#I got sad when I had to blur out so much of the background for better focus

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Not Without You ~Casey Novak xFem Wife!Reader (Alex Cabot x Olivia Benson)

Summary— Casey Novak angst. No more spoilers than that! Approach at your own risk!!!

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: MATURE AUDIENCES, 18+!!, death, angst, really sad shit, murder, blood, gore, multiple suicides, unhappy ending, grief character death, crying, mentioned suicidal tendencies, etc.

Enjoy (:

The precinct room was tense. Nobody was moving a muscle. Everyone frozen. You stood right under the doorway. Everyone’s eyes were on her, on Casey.

It was crazy how wrong this had gone so quickly. The perp was holding Casey in front of him with a knife to the ADA’s throat. Her eyes were bulging in fear and you could see her body shaking.

You had walked into the situation, unintentionally, showing up to surprise your wife for lunch. And you had walked in to the precinct to find everyone with their hands up and staring at Case.

Your heart was racing and your breath was bated. Your mind started to spiral, as Elliot started to try and talk the perp down.

The man’s words blurred in and out of your understanding, you were too busy relieving your entire life with Casey. It was too fleeting. It wasn’t enough. This couldn’t be it. You and her had barely had anytime together.

The perp started to get more agitated. It seemed that anything Elliot was saying was only making it worse…

Before you knew it, you heard a sudden slice followed by a squelched scream… and blood splattering across the room…

your heart dropped. Then another slice, no scream this time. Your eyes fluttered heavily, you started to feel dizzy…

Your legs collapsed on themselves and you feel tumbling to the floor. Nothing made sense. How did it all go so wrong, so quickly…?

Tears started to flow from your eyes. You looked up toward the bloody scene, your vision was blurred and hazy. EMTs were rushing to the two bodies that lies laying on the floor.

Everything began to muffle, the sounds fading into the background. You got the sudden urge to throw up, and you couldn’t stop it, vomiting across the precinct floor in front of you.

You jolted as you felt someone’s hand on your back. You looked up to your left with sobbing eyes to see Olivia trying to talk to you. But you couldn’t hear her.

She tried to pick you up and turn you away from Casey, but you fought back. You fought with your life and soul to get to Casey. Olivia’s hold tightened, not letting you move, so in desperation, you began to scream.

“No! God please no!” as you collapse to ground again and scream in agony.

She picked you up from the floor again and quickly filed you out of the main room and into a separate office. You fought and fought but you just didn’t have it in you anymore. She sat you down, sitting next to you, still trying to tell you something.

This was when you noticed how much you were shaking. You couldn’t stop it. Your breathing was shallow and you felt like you were being blocked from the air in your lungs. This realization only brought more tears. Shock and adrenaline were now in full course and running rampant in your system, and you were really starting to feel the overwhelming effect.

Your eyes started to feel heavy and it all became too much. The last thing you remember is leaning against Olivia’s shoulder before shutting your eyes indefinitely.

~~

When you woke up, you were in Olivia’s apartment. You jolted upright with wide eyes.

Olivia was in her kitchen, but as soon as she heard your gasped breathing, she came into the living room where you laid on her couch. She immediately sat down next to you, bringing her hand behind your back.

“Hey, hey… sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re at my apartment. I didn’t think… it would be appropriate to go to yours…” Olivia explained softly.

For a moment, for a nanosecond, you felt at peace. And then it all hit you.

Her dead body, the life leaving her eyes as blood spilt everywhere, her twitching hand as she bleed out, her mouth which you swore was whispering I love you…

You started shaking again, and your breathing went shallow and spiked. Tears flowed freely and violently as you rocked back and forth on Liv’s couch.

“Oh god Oh God Oh God…” you choked out, your lip trembling as you tried to stifle your violent sobs.

“It’s okay, let it all out…” Liv comforted you.

You suddenly felt the rage in your body kick in. You swatted Liv’s hand away and stood up, filled with anger.

“Y/N?” The brunette asked.

“I… I need to go…” you mumbled, “W-where’s my stuff?”

“At the precinct still… Wait Y/N?!”

Before Liv could say another word, you were out the door.

~~~

You walked into the SVU precinct for the second time in twenty four hours that day. The first thing you saw was the blood stain straight in front of you as you walked in. You gulped.

More feelings came bubbling up but you shoved them down.

You marched into the Captain’s office and demanded your things. Cragen looked at you sympathetically and asked if you were alright.

“I’m fine…” you grumbled, “now please give me my shit back.”

Cragen obliged and you were quick your things and leave. You made it all the way home and to your apartment hallway.

But then you saw your apartment. The one you and Casey had gotten together. The one you had planned to raise kids together in.

You shakily placed a hand over your mouth before letting out more uncontrollable sobs. Your legs were threatening to give out on you, but you managed to stumble your way to the bedroom, collapsing on the bed and losing consciousness again.

~~

You couldn’t get out of bed for the next couple of days. You were in and out of either feeling completely numb or being it with all the grief at once. You were questioning reality.

Was this even fucking real…? How could this have happened…? What the fuck were you going to do…??

Throughout those days, you heard many people knocking, coming and going. Not much on your phone anymore, because you had let its battery run out, but when it was on, everyone on the team was calling and texting.

You knew they only wanted what’s best for you and that they wanted to make sure you were okay… But you couldn’t face them. If you faced them, that would mean it was real. And you couldn’t risk that. That would break you. More than you are already, it would shatter you into the abyss.

~~

Months had passed and you had gone from your bed to your couch. Nowadays, it was mostly the numb feeling. You’d gotten rid or moved any and all reminders of your late past wife.

You spent your days sleeping and crying. People always said it got better, but your pain when you felt it, was like the day you lost her. People were bullshit. You didn’t want anyone ever again. You didn’t want this. Didn’t want life.

On a good day, you had just enough energy to make it to the bathroom. Today, you had been in the bath for hours, already having refilled it twice. You had your head laid back as your line of sight hit a bottle of pills on your counter. Your gut tugged at you.

You could be with Casey again…

You leaned far with your arm and grabbed the pill bottle. You spun it in your hands and thought about it all.

She’s gone… never coming back… why not just skip the torture and be with her again…?

~~

“Alex…” Olivia breathed out with a light smile as the blonde ADA strutted down the street and towards the brunette detective with her signature smirk.

Liv, Elliott, and Alex then walked the crime scene and got themselves familiarized with this new case. And when they had a second at the precinct, she pulled Liv aside.

“Hey Liv, I heard about Casey Novak, Y/N’s wife… How is Y/N…?” Alex asked with light concern.

You and Alex went to law school together. You had been really close. Until she went into Witness Protection. Since then neither of you had heard from each other.

“I… Alex…” Liv sighed, rubbing her temples, “I haven’t heard from Y/N in months…”

Alex’s jaw nearly dropped.

“What…??” She exclaimed, “Liv that’s… that’s…”

“I know, I know… I just got caught up in cases and I thought she didn’t want me there by the way it went down and—” Liv rambled.

“No Liv…! It’s— Where does she live…??” Alex said in a panicked and concerned tone.

Liv quickly gave Alex the address, Alex stopped by Cragen’s office to let him know she’d be gone for some time, before the blonde practically ran out of the precinct.

Olivia was quick to follow, having trouble keeping up with how fast Alex was going. But she got to the blonde in the parking garage, stepping in front of Lex’s car before she could drive away.

“Alex! What is happening…??” Liv exclaimed.

“Get in the car!!” Alex called out.

Liv quickly got in the passenger seat and sped away.

“Lex… talk to me please…” Liv softly spoke, interlocking her left hand with her girlfriend’s right hand.

Alex took a deep breath as she sped down the roads to your place.

“Liv… When Y/N and I were in school, she got really close to a professor, she was like a mentor to Y/N… In our last year… that professor died…” Alex breathed out.

“Oh… I’m sorry…” Liv gently said.

“No Liv that’s not it. What’s it is what happened afterwards… Y/N started behaving oddly, becoming more reclusive and anti social… and then…” Alex gulped, and flinched a little at recalling these harsh memories, “Liv, she tried to kill herself.”

Liv’s whole demeanor changed, her eyes going wide. She felt guilt wracking her body.

How could she have been so stupid…? How could she have left you alone for so long…? What if..??

The car screeched to a halt just outside the apartment, and the two women rushed into the building. They ran up the stairs and Olivia had absolutely no hesitation in barging down the door. The women rushed into the room and looked around frantically.

Alex listened for you, and she faintly heard the sound of water running. Her eyes widened and she exclaimed,

“Bathroom, Liv, bathroom!!!!” Alex cried out.

Alex stumbled the bathroom door open and stepped into the overflowing water from the bath that was everywhere. She yelped desperately in distress. Tears started to run down Alex’s cheeks, as she placed a hand over her mouth, the other hand still on the doorknob.

Liv came rushing behind Alex and was just as horrified at the sight as Alex was.

The overflowing water… the empty pill body… your lifeless body..

“We-we need a bus…” Liv stammered into her radio, taking ahold of Alex.

Hell knows they both needed the support…

“It’s not your fault, Liv. Not your fault…” Alex whispered.

“Like hell it isn’t…” Liv breathed out.

~~~

Casey Novak Masterlist

Olivia Benson Masterlist

Alex Cabot Masterlist

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝕴𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊

Sean Anderson x gender neutral reader

Summary: you feel insicure and out of place inside of this group of people and Sean does all that he can to express to you how much wrong you are.

It’s so sad that there are no fics for him :(. I felt the need to write one for him considering he is the first one I watched. He is so underrated.

Warnings: no pronouns used for reader. Insecure reader. Best friends to lovers. Soft smut. Soft dom Sean. Sean and reader are 18+ in this one.

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows on the ancient trees that surrounded us. The mysterious island had drawn all of you together. You sat cross-legged on a rough-hewn log, your fingers tracing patterns in the dirt as you listened to the crackling sound of the campfire.

Sean sat beside you. His eyes were fixed on the flames, their golden glow reflecting in his eyes. Sean was brilliant, his mind a labyrinth of knowledge and curiosity. You’ve always admired his intelligence, the way he dives headfirst into puzzles and riddles. But lately, there’s something more, a warmth that settles in your chest when he smiles, a flutter when his hand brushes against yours.

He'd been the one to decipher the code that led us here, and now, with his ankle wrapped in makeshift bandages, he leaned heavily against your shoulder. His pain was etched in the lines around his eyes, but he refused to complain.

Hank, Sean's stepfather, knelt by the fire, tending to the flames. His hands were gnarled from years of hard work, but they moved with a gentle grace as he adjusted the logs.

When Sean had twisted his ankle on the treacherous path, Hank had popped it back into place without hesitation. They never got along that well, but you could see both of them slowly warming up to each other’s.

Now, he strummed a ukulele, its sweet notes weaving through the night air while he tried to cheer him up. The melody was haunting, a balm for your weary souls. You don’t know if Sean felt the same way, however, as he pressed his face on your shoulder, groaning from embarrassment as you laughed together with Hank.

Gabato, the stranger who'd washed ashore with you, Sean and Hank, sat across from Hank. His skin was bronzed by the sun, and he looked deep in thoughts.

Then there was Kailani, Gabato's daughter. She perched on a moss-covered rock, her dark hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders.

She was everything you weren’t: bold, beautiful, and unafraid.

Kailani's fingers brushed Sean's as she reached for a piece of fruit, and your heart clenched.

You and Sean had always been close. He was a mix of handsome and nerdy, the kind of person who could talk no stop about something for hours only to stutter an excuse for annoying who was around him.

You had been there, by his side, helping him, supporting him. Hank had even mistaken you for a couple at first, which had left both of you blushing and stammering awkward denials.

Despite your close bond, tonight, you felt out of place, a shadow among these vibrant people.

The conversation around the fire blurred into a background hum as you retreated into your thoughts. You couldn't help but compare yourself to Kailani. She seemed perfect for Sean: adventurous, beautiful, and able to match his curiosity and excitement for the unknown. What did you have to offer in comparison?

You see the way Sean looks at her: admiration mixed with something deeper.

You glanced down at your entwined hands, a gesture that you two made without even realizing it many times but that you now have become accustomed to it.

Sean's grip was warm and steady, but you felt the weight of inadequacy. What did you have to offer in this strange company? You weren’t brilliant like Sean or strong like Hank. You couldn't spin tales that made everyone laugh like Gabato or beautiful like Kailani. You were just the quiet observer, the outsider.

Sean deserve someone who could match his intellect, who could share his passion for unraveling mysteries.

His gaze lingered on you face.

“You’re okay?” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly on my hand.

You forced a smile. “Yeah, just tired.”

His eyes narrowed, and you knew he saw through my lie. But he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned back against the log, his expression thoughtful.

“Hmm.” Sean’s voice held a hint of skepticism. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Yes, I know”

Then Sean squeezed your hand, and you looked into his eyes. They held warmth, understanding. You blinked back tears, your heart swelling.

⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈

The night was a velvet shroud, cradling the island in its cool embrace. The fire had dwindled to a mere whisper of its former glory, and the forest rustled with secrets. Everyone else slept, their breaths soft and even, but your mind churned like the restless waves beyond the shore.

You laid on your makeshift bed of leaves and moss, staring up at the canopy of stars. Sean's breathing was steady beside your, his face relaxed in slumber. But you couldn't find rest. The weight of your insecurities pressed down, threatening to suffocate you.

And then, as if sensing your turmoil, Sean stirred. His fingers brushed your cheek, gentle as moonlight. He murmured your name softly, his voice a fragile thread. "Are you awake?"

The night air was cool, carrying whispers of pine and moss. Sean stood up from his position, his expression both nervous and determined. You blinked at him, your heart doing a clumsy pirouette.

“Hey” he said, his voice soft yet resolute. He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Do you want to take a walk? Get some fresh air?"

He chose you and not her

You started to get up from your position. “Where?” Your heart was beating faster the more your brain started to understand the intimacy of the situation.

Sean’s eyes sparkled. “Deep into the woods,” he said. “I found a spot earlier where I saw something beautiful that I wanted to show you”

He stood before you, his hand outstretched, inviting you into the unknown.

“But your leg,” you blurted out, noticing his leg free from the bandages you used on him.

He waved off my concern. “It’s fine now. Hank worked his magic. I feel hardly any pain now. Besides, I want to show you something.”

Your heart fluttered. He wanted to share a secret with me. You pushed aside your insecurities and took his hand.

Outside, the forest enveloped you two. The moon peeked through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. Sean led you deeper, his steps sure. You stumbled once, but he caught you, his touch warm and steady.

“Where are we going?” You asked again, voice barely audible.

Sean's eyes sparkled, and he pressed a finger to his lips, urging silence. You were like two conspirators, sneaking out for a midnight rendezvous.

As you ventured deeper into the woods, Sean's steps were catlike,each one calculated to avoid twigs and fallen leaves. You tried to mimic his stealth, but your foot caught on a stubborn root, and you stumbled. Sean caught you, his lips curving into a half-smile.

"Graceful," he teased, and you swatted his arm playfully. "You're lucky a giant lizard didn't hear that."

You shuddered, remembering this morning's close encounter. In a way it made Sean remember that close encounter he had with that dinosaur when he was alone in the center of the earth, a story that you loved to hear from him from time to time and that he loved to tell you whenever you asked.

You were so cute to him whenever you showed curiosity towards him.

And now, in the heart of the forest, Sean stopped. His gaze fixed on a cluster of vibrant blue. Butterflies, dozens of them, flitted among the ferns, their wings shimmering like shards of sky.

"Look," he said, his voice hushed. "They're like living gems."

You watched, mesmerized, as the butterflies danced. Their flight was erratic yet purposeful, weaving intricate patterns in the moonlight. One landed on your outstretched palm, its wings brushing your skin. You held it gently, your eyes alight with wonder.

You reached out, your fingertip grazing the butterfly's iridescent wing. "They're breathtaking."

Sean leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "You know what else is breathtaking?" he murmured. "You."

Your heart stuttered. "Me?"

"I've always liked you. More than liked you. Given the place where we ended up thanks to me I thought it would be better to tell you.“

"But Kailani—" You begin, your voice faltering.

His gaze lingering on your face. His fingers brushing yours.

“Is that why you’ve been quiet tonight?” he said softly.

Your gaze dropped to the ground, unable to look him in the eyes “I just… I feel inadequate sometimes.”

“Inadequate?” Sean’s voice held a mix of confusion and concern.

You nodded, your throat tight. “Yeah. Like a ghost that nobody notices” His thumb brushed your knuckles. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re amazing, Sean. You’re smart, funny, and everyone loves you. And then there’s me, just ordinary.”

His laughter was soft, a gentle melody. “Ordinary? You’re extraordinary.”

You scoffed. “Right. I’m not as smart or outgoing as you. I stumble over my words, and I’m not exactly the life of the party.”

“You don’t need to be.” His eyes held mine. “You’re enough. More than enough.”

You leaned into his palm, your heart aching with gratitude. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you listened when I kept rambling about that coded signal my grandfather left. You remember all the time that we spent together trying to decipher it? You always cheered me up when I was about to give up from frustration. You notice the little things like the way I take my coffee, the songs that make me smile. And you make the best hot chocolate on chilly nights.”

“That’s just—”

“No, it’s not ‘just.’ It’s everything.” His lips brushed mine, a soft promise. “You’re my anchor. The one who I want to be with all the time”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I love you, Sean.”

“And I love you.” He ducks to kiss you. It's gentle and sweet and romantic, a kiss that tasted of moonbeams and promises. His mouth moved against yours, gentle yet urgent. It was a kiss that held all the words you needed to hear, the reassurance, the longing, the desire to banish your insecurities.

He nudges you to walk backwards until your back hits a tree. Your lips remained sealed in this kiss that was tentative at first but grew deeper and more fervent. Sean's hands moved to cradle your face gently, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened, fueled by a passionate urgency. The wild world around you completely vanished, leaving you two enveloped in your own cocoon of warmth and longing.

Sean trailed kisses down your neck, and sucked on a sweet spot which caused you to let out the sweetest moans Sean has ever heard.

"Tonight's all about you”

Sean loved the way you gasped, the way your fingers curled in his shirt as you pressed yourself into him, hips dragging down onto him.

Your laughter, your scent, the feel of your hand on his upper arm, he had become utterly smitten with you and he knew there was no turning back, nor did he want to.

Lips seeking skin, tongue flicking out to pull little gasps from your lips. Soft and yielding as he pressed between your legs, pulling them around his waist. His name torn from your lips as he whispered against them, “precious, wonderful, so good,” he moved slowly, taking his time as he told you just how good you felt.

Loved slowly exploring your body with his, finding new ways to make you gasp his name, new ways that would cause you to arch into him, dragging him closer, his curiosity was insatiable.

As he started pushing in, your eyes filled with tears, of love and euphoria. You whimpered from the intrusion and he just kissed you sweetly to distract you from the pain. Sean noticed the wetness flowing down your cheeks, and kissed them lovingly.

Heat rose to your cheeks, you moved a hand covering your face, stifling an embarrassed chuckle. Sean tutted, pulling your hand away and pressing his lips against yours, hips never ceasing as he felt you tighten around him.

Gods, he was addicted to your small whimpers, the taste of you, all of you.

He smiled, hand catching your jaw, “ready?” you nodded, the coil in your belly tightening, snapping as he went in harder, faster.

It ended like this, you first with him losing his rhythm, driving into you until he let out a groan that he suppressed by biting his face in your neck.

“I love you.” He grinned as you responded with giggles, the sound that always made his heart flutter.

Thank you for reading and for all the likes on my other stories <3

[kit-williams]

Sickeningly Sweet

The culmination of mine and @sculptorofcrimson's mega post about Valdor... you should probably read that to get an understanding of what is going on.

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon

As always thank you @squishyowl for the divder

tw: smut. yandere valdor. mindbreak or at least mind broken

This was written in like an hour

She hardly recognized herself in the mirror anymore... the slightly golden tinge to her eyes stared back at her with such sadness that was uncommon for her given her background... she made the most of everything... she really tried with this... as she could feel the way the comb just glided through her long brown hair... something happened when she got scared.

He had stumbled back when she let out that final desperate scream before she devolved into sobs... her eyes and her hair changed not long after that... but now no one came to visit... no one came to check up on her... she felt so sad and empty for the first time in her life... she covered her face and let her tears fall for herself for a moment before she knew he was there licking them away like a dog. And she once more felt the weight of the laurel upon her head.

The days felt so numb... and at times she felt like a doll being preened over and kept clean and loved... but she felt so achingly lonely. Ever since Valdor had come into her life... everything went insane... suddenly the Inquisition was doing its best to interrogate politely ask her what was going on. Suddenly there were machinations that she wanted to be ignorant about thrust into her face... then the Enemy was moving around, as Valdor had told her about some of the things that attacked the ship. They knew he was guarding something... he swore he wouldn't let them get her Him.

Her last attempt to pull away to get away from the golden nightmare ended in so much death and it was all her fault. She wept again... and once again his tongue lapped up the tears. Time was a blur for her as she tried to stop eating but while it kept him at bay for some time... she should have remembered he wasn't fully against hurting her and the subtle threats he wove got her to eat once again....

She hardly noticed the change in room as Valdor shuffled her around again... but all she could do was look up at him pleadingly to not kill them... silently praying to the Throne that she wouldn't have to watch him butcher people who were simply trying to treat her as human because that is what she was! But time still blurred for her and she couldn't take it any more... the crushing silence he held only to hold her so devotingly and whisper such praises... perhaps that is why she turned so inwardly with her own fingers as company. And still he watches even as she finishes even as she licks her own fingers clean... she can't even feel something alone.

How long has it been? She wonders as she hardly leaves her room anymore and feels herself wilting as the thought of that... "Valdor." Her voice cracks from disuse and there he is.

"Yes my Emperor?" He says with that calm voice.

"I feel lonely." She admits letting the tears flow. When he kneels and leans in to lick up her tears once more she presses her mouth to his and pushes her tongue against his. "Please... Valdor... Please... I need." She begs as she wraps her arms around his neck not knowing exactly what she was begging for. Perhaps for something carnal... as she remembers when he first appeared she felt that lust as who wouldn't?

"What do you need of me my liege." She feels his breath against her cheek and ear as her mouth moves desperately against his chin and throat... eyes closed tight to not break the illusion of her not thrusting desire onto him.

"Please touch me." She mewls at him and once more feels his mouth against her own as she moans eagerly into his mouth. The tunic she had been given now coming into play as his warm finger just brushes against her sex. She jolts at the contact moaning as she feels the digit sinking into her.

Pulling open her top she plays with her own breasts just to feel something just to feel the high in this as she keeps her eyes closed or stealing timid glances... but his gaze at her is terrifying in a way... so overwhelming.

However the slow pumping of his digit wasn't doing enough for her right now. "Valdor please I need you." She whimpers rubbing a foot against his inner thigh trying to encourage a reaction from him as she looks up at him with those eyes.

The ghost of a smile on his lips as his eyes hold some predatory look in them... as if she was a rabbit caught in a trap, "My liege is in need and removing my armor will take time... let me please you now." He pulled his finger out and tasted it... she watched him close his eyes for a moment savoring it before leaning in and licking the lips...

His name was a ghost on her lips before she suddenly screamed it out as he dove in with a hunger that sent a jolt of life into her. Her thighs squeezing his head and her fingers gripping the dark hair of his mohawk. She didn't see or chose to ignore the way he watched her writhe against his mouth... the way his eyes focused on her own as they flashed a bright gold... each lick pouring life back into this shard of the Emperor that was becoming like tarnished gold... dull and lifeless.

His tongue cupped and pressed against her bud as he wrapped his dearest liege shard in the finest golden chains of his devotion... she craved such companionship... it was something he had to discourage at first as who else but a loyal servant could bring their liege such pleasure. His tongue moves deeper and she screams with such desperate pleasure, "Valdor! Valdor please! I'm so close!" She sobbed as her faithful servant held her thighs gently just watching her come undone with a final shriek.

He made sure not a drop of her was wasted... she flushed as she could hear the wetness of his licks and laps as he cleaned her with such devotion. He knew her routine having seen her with a paramour before he knew for certain she was his Beloved... it was all a bonding ritual that would bring him into their good graces again. The concern that entered her gold eyes... "Do you need to be taken care of?"

"Do not worry about me." He said watching her nod as she got as comfortable as she could to snuggle in the afterglow of that sensation. And as Valdor played his role in her post coitus bonding ritual he knew... he knew his Beloved shard would be less... and less... and less... and oh so very less likely to pull away from him again like they tried to.

[aimbutmiss]

Shanks woke up way too early that day, having barely slept from excitement. He was practically bouncing on his bed as he waited for his cabinmate to wake up, but Buggy was pretty much out cold. His patience was running thin as he watched his friend breath in and out in his state of deep sleep. What did Buggy get him as a gift, he wondered. He did disappear for a bit at the last island they stopped by... Just thinking about it made him giddy.

Buggy finally stirred out of sleep, yawning as he stretched his arms. Shanks immediately jumped on him, not able to control his excitement.

"Good morning, Bugs!"

Buggy rubbed his eyes groggily. "You're too loud so damn early..."

"It's not early at all! And sorry, heh." Shanks finally lowered his voice. He waited for his friend to say something, but he just pushed him away and got up.

"You stink." was all Buggy said as he made his way to the bathroom.

So, no immediate birthday wishes. That was fine. Buggy was never a morning person, and he was still sleepy and grumpy. He'd come to after washing his face.

Except, he didn't. No one else did either. It was like any regular day on the ship, and no one wished him a happy birthday.

Shanks went on his day like usual, doing his chores except with a big frown. He tried peppering in hints about the special occasion in his conversations, but no one seemed to pick up on it. As the day went on, his sadness grew and grew. Did no one care about him enough to remember his birthday? He was turning 14, yet all the excitement of it died in him. Roger cared every year to throw parties for him and Buggy, why would he suddenly forget? It didn't make any sense. And even if no one remembered, he always believed Buggy would. But here he was, going about his day like usual and ignoring him.

Shanks had never felt so unwanted and unloved before.

Towards the evening, Rayleigh came into the cellar as Shanks was cleaning up. He made a move to leave but Rayleigh halted him with a touch.

"You can't leave yet. I have something to tell you."

Shanks' eyes grew bigger and he bit his lips in excitement. This was it! Of course, Rayleigh would remember. The man loved to act tough but he was a big softie on the inside.

"You missed a spot. Mop it better."

...

"Okay..."

Shanks felt tears sting in his eyes as he turned around to mop the floor. The sound of Rayleigh's steps as he went up the stairs blurred in the background. Maybe he had always been a stupid chore boy to them. No one cared. And maybe, Buggy really meant it when he said he was a bother... He sniffled as the wet mop dragged on the wooden surface.

He wanted to run away, but he had no where to go to in the middle of the ocean. God, he hated this. He really didn't want to pity himself, but the tears weren't stopping. He heard footsteps and turned around to see Buggy at the entrance.

"Oi, idiot-" He stopped when he saw Shanks' teary face. "What's wrong?"

Shanks angrily wiped away his tears and turned away to hide his face. "It's nothing. Just leave me alone."

"Don't give me that, you asshole!" Buggy stomped over angrily and... held his face? He gently wiped away the tears with a swipe of his thumb.

"What are you doing?" Shanks asked between sniffles.

"Giving you time to cool off, so you don't embarrass yourself when we go up."

Shanks' brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Everyone's waiting for you, so just calm down and breathe. You wouldn't want them to know you were crying, right?"

Shanks took a second to do as his better half said, still not quite understanding but feeling better with Buggy by his side. Once his face was less red and the teartracks were nowhere to be seen, Buggy held his hand and led him up the stairs. A big commotion happened when they emerged from the door.

"SURPRISEEEE!!!"

Shanks looked around in confusion, the sound of confetti popping startling him. There was a big, red cake in the middle of the deck with everyone huddled around it. The huge banner hung between the polls read "Happy Birthday Shanks!"

Roger made his way over to Shanks and gave him a big, squeezing hug. "My boy's a man now! Can't believe you've grown this much. 14, huh? How time flies."

He pulled away with a smile but it dropped immediately once he realised the boy in his arms was crying. "What's wrong, boy?!"

Rayleigh watched the panicked captain with a pained expression, sighing with crossed arms. "I don't think the surprise party was a clever idea like you thought, Captain."

After the misunderstanding was cleared, the party commenced in full speed. Music was playing, gifts were being exchanged, Shanks even got to blow the candles and make a wish. He wished for the same thing he did every year, looking over at Buggy and closing his eyes before blowing out the flame.

Later down the evening, Buggy approached Shanks, who was shoving cake in his mouth like his life depended on it.

"I can't believe you cried again after I tried so hard to not embarrass you."

Shanks turned to Buggy with a smile and frosting covering his face. "I don't care about that! I was just so relieved... I really thought you had forgotten."

Buggy shook his head. "As if I ever could, you dumbass."

He pushed a small, red box into his hands. Shanks eagerly opened it to find a small friendship bracelet, matching the one his friend was wearing. He immediately put it on with a smile. "Thank you, Buggy!"

Buggy rubbed his nape as red spread across his cheeks. "It's nothing big, but a lot of my budget went into the other thing so I didn't have many options..."

"Other thing?"

Buggy motioned to the box again, which was empty except for a piece of paper. Shanks turned to him in confusion.

"It's my Vivre Card."

Shanks stared at him in pure surprise, his eyes widened like saucers. "Seriously?!"

"Yes, seriously." Buggy smiled shyly. "I still can't believe you genuinely thought I forgot... I'll never leave you alone, especially not on your birthday. And if I do, you can always find me with this."

Shanks got teary eyed once again, staring at his friend with vulnerable eyes. "Really, never? You promise?"

"Oh my God, don't you dare cry again!" Buggy yelled, but didn't waste one more second to reply. "I promise."

It had been 25 years since then. Now Shanks, age 39, sat alone in a corner of his ship, somehow having managed to ran away from the party his crew threw for him. He stared at the Vivre Card on his palm, motioning somewhere far into the horizon, wondering where his friend was and how he was doing.

Never, huh...

Oh, how he wished Buggy had kept his promise, and he didn't lack the guts to follow him.

Maybe next year, he thought to himself, like he did year after year.

[bl00dst41ned]

*.·:·.✦ my little secret (jude bellingham ‘series’ pt.1) ✦.·:·.*

pairing: jude bellingham x female oc (Mariah)

summary: in which Jude chooses the wrong time to break up with Mariah

author's note: saw @mwahuniverse’s post. here it is. might be a three to four-part series so if you want to get tagged for the other ones, comment or drop it in my asks (part 2 is already ready and out Friday or Saturday hehe)

series masterlist

word count: 654

Two lines.

It felt like Mariah’s eyes could not get away from these two lines on the pink stick.

These two lines, as simple as they looked, were about to change the entire course of her life.

Not believing the sole test even after staring at it for minutes, she quickly picked up the other tests:

Two lines

“Pregnant”

“Pregnant, 2-3 weeks”

The young woman’s vision blurred as her eyes filled with tears that she tried to dry with her hands. But the overwhelming feeling took over, tears now strolling down her cheek.

Not tears of sadness, but of happiness. Happiness from growing life in her belly. Happy to start a family with the person she loved, Jude.

Speaking of him, Mariah checked her phone, seeing that her boyfriend should be back. She rushed to hide the tests and order some of their signature meal they only eat together.

Behind the door could be heard keys jiggling before it opens. Jude doesn’t have time to walk in that he is greeted with an overly cheerful Mariah. He gave her a quick kiss on the temple before heading to the living room with his girlfriend on his steps.

“I have something to tell you” Mariah started with a smile as they sat on the sofa.

Weirdly, Jude sat as far as possible for her, something he started to do for a few days now. Mariah had picked on his change of behaviour but decided to ignore it.

“Wait, let me start” Jude interrupted in a stern voice, which caused Mariah’s smile to slowly fade.

“I think we should stop this”

“Stop what?” Confusion laced her voice.

“Us”

His words hit her like a car crash. Nothing could have prepared her for this moment. Jude, the man that she loved, just broke up with her for no apparent reason. Broke her heart when she thought their love was sealed by the little seed that was about to grow in her belly.”

Her breathing got heavy and palms became sweaty but she tried to cover it.

“Wh-why ?” She managed to ask in the least shaky voice she could let out.

“I just don’t feel like doing it anymore, I kind of lost interest” He nonchalantly responded, breaking Mariah’s heart even more.

“Yeah, we should end it now, you go your way and I go mine”

The more he spoke the more it felt like he stamped on her heart. As much as she tried to keep face and not show anything, her body decided otherwise since her hands lightly shook from trying not to burst out crying.

As Jude kept on ranting as if he didn’t care how Mariah felt, her phone buzzed repeatedly.

She opened her phone seeing a DM from an unknown girl, named Leslie

missleslie

*sent one attachement*

tell my man I can’t wait to see him again 😘

Mariah opened the attachment seeing a mirror photo of her, Jude laying in the background on his phone. The same phone, set on the coffee table. With the same outfit he wore right in front of her. The same Jude that just broke her heart had spent the day with another girl.

“Who’s that?” She turned her phone around showing the picture to him.

He let a light smirk grow a bit before he just sat back unfazed

“What d’you want me to tell you?”

After all their time together, Jude had always cared for her, making sure nobody, not even him, hurt her feelings. But now it felt like all of it had gone away.

“Just go, bro”

To which he did. He walked out of her apartment without a word or even a look. He just left her.

Once the door closed, Mariah took out the test, looking at each of them intensively. She bursted in tears, not able to control them.

She cried and cried until there were no tears left to cry.

like and repost for support (hope you enjoyed it)

masterlist for more

[datura-tea]

holy shit this year marks 10 years of this blog and moz!! i can't remember the exact date i started posting here - my archive says i have one post from november 2013 but let's disregard that - but i do remember it was around late 2014/early 2015 :)

^ one of the very first moz art pieces i ever drew, for fallout week 2015!!

memories and art through the years under a read more bc it got long

2014 → baby's first rpg!! i started playing fnv on my cousin's jailbroken xbox late 2013 and finished mid 2014 and i loved every minute of it. i remember waking up at 8am and playing almost nonstop until 2am the next day haha!

i didn't play moz on my first playthrough - but i did start creating a character that would eventually become her: a shorthaired ex-boxer who punched her way through obstacles when diplomacy failed. i remember she spent a lot of time with boone. i liked him then, because he saved my ass more times than i can count. but i digress. this is draft 1 moz essentially

2015 → this is the year that i was doing my thesis so i could graduate but i was so depressed and stressed about it that i distracted myself by replaying fnv on pc, where i played through the dlcs for the first time. i fell in love with the dlcs' oversarching story; particularly ulysses, who i became obssessed with, especially since i couldn't find any content of him at the time. in the game, i played as moz; i had most of her personality and choices down, but her backstory was still up in the air.

fun fact: this was an existing sideblog that i remade to be a fallout blog so i could look for ulysses content, and when i couldn't find any, i made some myself, featuring moz as my main courier six. originally, i didn't ship them, but eventually i ended the year as a courier/ulysses otp shipper.

this was the year i started drawing digitally - my uncle let me borrow a drawing tablet and i used an old copy of photoshop i pirated hehe

2016 → i graduated this year!! and promptly fell deeper into my depression. this was the year that it got so bad that i had to be medicated. through it all, this blog and moz and ulysses and my fandom friends were with me. and for that i am truly grateful :) this was the year i figured out how to lock transparent pixels so that i could color my lineart lol

2017 → i started hammering out moz's backstory this year i think. there's a lot of sketches of her and her family in my files. i experimented with shading and backgrounds here but that experimentation was pretty short-lived

2018 → i started using references seriously!!!! i did a lot of oc on oc kissing this year, featuring mostly moz and many friend ocs haha

2019 → didn't draw much this year. actually this year was a blur and i can't remember much from it except from it being the year of my terrible no good bad copywriting jobs... anyway i did manage to continue my courier/ulysses brainrot and make this piece, which i'm still proud of

2020 → pandemic time. i spent a lot of time asleep at home and i think this was also the year i started doing commissions?? shoutout to anyone who has ever commissioned me - thank you so much, i truly appreciate it!!

2021 → i switched from my old-ass pirated photoshop to clip studio paint and never looked back. also i did a bunch of commissions for my grandmother's surgery, which failed, and i distracted myself from the sadness by drawing my ocs over and over and playing disco elysium

2022 → by this year, i've got moz down pat and have started vaguely developing other ocs instead. but she's still always at the back of my mind

2023 → i bought new brushes from true grit texture supply and immediately found new favorites that i started using for everything. i tentatively started incorporating background elements in some pieces!

2024 → while it's still too early to say where this year will lead me art-wise, i will say that i started experimenting in realistic paint studio (which i bought in 2021, the same time as clip studio paint) a few days ago and i'm liking the results so far. we'll see!

all in all, these last 10 years have been quite a ride, but i'm glad i stuck around and i'm glad you guys stuck around too!! much much love 💖💖💖

[stories4thepack]

An honour (part 2)

Wednesday x fem!reader

Warnings: slight blood, mention of death, sump Wednesday, dead reader, flashbacks

Wednesday cannot cope without you. So what happens when you pay her a visit?

You were gone...

Wednesday had held your body for what felt like hours, sorrow tearing her from the inside out. She wanted to cry but couldn’t. She felt numb. The pain so much worse than what she had already been through that night.

Nothing could hurt more than losing you.

“Wednesday,”

Enid muttered from behind her, snapping Wednesday out of her thoughts. The Raven hair had her hands on her typewriter but had been staring at the empty page for- she checks the clock on the wall- 87 minutes. It was maddening that the only thing on her mind was you.

“Wednesday, her funeral was beautiful. She had a ring of flowers on her gravestone and Yoko had placed a photo of the group into her coffin. Her playlist was playing in the background, you know, she listened to a lot of sad music, so it was quite suiting-”

Enid sobs, cutting off the rest of her words. And suddenly, Wednesday was kneeling beside you, your coughs cutting off your last few words. Wednesday could see the blood pouring out your mouth, the wounds that sunk so deep into your gut, your weak smile as the last thing you looked at was Wednesday.

“It's been an honor.”

Your weak voice cut through the silence in Wednesday’s ears, repeating until suddenly she couldn’t take it anymore. She stood from her chair, snapping out of her memory.

“I'm going for a walk.”

Wednesday muttered, storming past the crying werewolf, slamming the door shut behind her. The walk out of the school and into Jericho passed by in a blur. All she could do was picture the blood covering her hands, and the sudden drop in your chest as you gave your final breath. She hadn't even realized where she was going until she stood in front of your grave, the earth pilled in a lump above your coffin. Freshly buried. Usually a new dig site excited her, but she couldn’t feel anything, knowing it was you beneath her feet.

She hadn’t gone to your funeral. She couldn’t bring herself to do so…

She didn’t want to be met with a hundred sympathetic eyes and hear the dozen apologies from her classmates. She didn’t want to see the tears rolling down the pupils’ cheeks, most of whom treated you like dirt anyway. They shouldn't be allowed to mourn; they should be the ones 6 feet-under. Not you.

At first, she couldn’t move, afraid that her brain would torture her with more images of your hands lying limp in hers.

“I never got to thank you.”

Wednesday finally spoke, staring at your name carved into the gravestone. Somehow, she managed to keep her voice monotone and steady, even though she felt like screaming on the inside. She was an Addams, and she would never show that kind of extreme emotion. But she hoped that if you really were listening from the warm heaven of hell, that you heard the emotion she kept hidden inside herself.

“I never got to tell you so many things. You were not meant to be the one to die.”

She hadn’t realized it was raining until her blazer was soaked through to her skin, weighing her down. She hadn’t brought an umbrella, but she didn’t want to worry about that. She just wanted you to hear her voice, to hear what she never got to tell you.

“You somehow got close to me, somehow made me care.”

She walked around to your gravestone, kneeling beside it, her voice so much quieter now.

“I wish I could see your smile, hear you laugh, listen to another one of your torturously terrible jokes.”

She placed her hand on the side of the stone, tracing your name with a gentleness even she didn’t know she was capable of.

“I am so sorry.”

And suddenly, the rain was no longer pounding on top of her, she looked up and saw a black umbrella held above her. Frustration filled her body, not wanting to be interrupted in a moment of weakness.

“Enid, I do not need you to come here to be with me for ‘emotional support’!”

She hisses, standing from your grave

“Guess again,”

Wednesday spun around, her eyes wide when she saw your face. The bright, life filled glow returned to your eyes, your annoying, cocky smile on your face.

“And I don’t want you apologizing, I threw myself at the Hyde, I died because of it.”

Wednesday’s hand went to your face, feeling the warmth beneath your skin as you tilted your head to rest your cheek in her palm. Your eyes never strayed from hers.

“Mutt”

Wednesday said, her body was beginning to shake for so many reasons: the cold, her shock, but mainly because of her longing to be in your arms.

Which is exactly what happened, as you pulled her into your chest with your free arm, resting your chin on top of her head. The umbrella swaying slightly in the wind above the two of you. You kissed the top of her head, silently hoping that she would be alright with the contact, but the way she snuggled closer to you made you feel alright about breaking her rules.

“How are you here?”

Wednesday asked, pulling away from your slightly damp frame, the water from her clothes soaking into yours. You smiled, shaking your head and shrugging.

“Your having a vision”

You comment, gesturing behind her to Wednesdays body seizing up on the floor, her eyes tightly closed but a faint smile on her lips.

You looked into her eyes as she turned back around, and suddenly the images of that night flashed before your eyes, making you cry out as you clutched your gut. Wednesday immediately grasped your arm, moving it away as she lifted your white shirt to check for wounds. Thick, dark scars littered your skin as a reminder of how you had died.

“Sorry, I just, it hurt. That night hurt so much,”

A tear slides down your cheek and, ignoring her better judgment, Wednesday wiped it away with her thumb. Summoning another smile onto your face

“And it didn’t just hurt physically. Wednesday, leaving you. Hurting you. When I looked into your eyes, I thought I would never see you again. It tore me apart. I am so sorry.”

And your crying, for the first time, Wednesday was seeing you cry, and she was the reason. She grasped your hand, intertwining your fingers as you had in your final moments.

“There is so much Wednesday, I wanted to tell you.”

“You do know that you are right here with me, you can just say those things now.”

You chuckled at the calmness trying to cover Wednesday’s shaky voice. You were the only one who could see behind the death stares and gruesome murder novels. You went silent, grip tightening slightly round Wednesday’s hand.

“I want to show you...”

Wednesday gave one, curt nod at your words before your lips were on hers. Kissing her with gentle passion, as if you were testing the waters to see if it was safe. It was when Wednesday firmly kissed you back, that you really sunk into her. You hand was on the back of her head, fingers twirling through her hair as she clawed at your back desperately. The umbrella fell from your hand as it went around the Raven hairs waist, allowing the rain to pour down on you as well. It was a good few minutes, before you pulled away. Your cocky grin on back on your face.

“You have no idea how much it broke me thinking that I would never be able to that!”

“I think I know very well what it’s like.”

Wednesday stated, kissing you again, capturing your lips in desperation. The rain began to soak your hair, your skin showing under your drenched shirt. You pull away, wanting to look at the girl you loved one last time.

“You are so beautiful, like an angel…”

Wednesday scowled, glaring at you as you complimented her.

“Never call me that,”

“I’m sorry my Raven.”

“Better”

She muttered, both your eyes drawn to the sound of Wednesdays body coughing from the floor.

“I say we have another minute at most.”

You muttered, smiling at her before kissing her briefly. Your eyes begin to loose the brightness that Wednesday had longed for ever since you died.

“I don’t want to loose you again!”

She states, hand clutching yours tightly. You chuckled, the sound making Wednesdays cold heart flutter. You brushed her cheek with the back of your hand, your body slowly growing colder under her touch.

“You’ll see me again.”

“And how do you know?”

You looked at Wednesdays body, her chest rising at a steady rhythm. A few seconds left.

“Because you will never let me go that easily.”

You kissed her head, before slowly slipping your arms from her hands. Your heart breaking as you did so.

“Your a mutt.”

Wednesday states as you pull your hand from her grasp. You chuckled again, face slowly growing pale.

“But I’m your mutt!”

You smile before Wednesdays eyes snap open, the rain already soaked her face, Thing sits beside her, attempting to hold the umbrella over her body, struggling without another hand to help him out.

“See you soon Wednesday…”

You muttered to yourself as you watched her wake from her vision. Already missing the gentle touch that she had reserved for you.

Only for you….

[kodaloveschris]

Rekindled Bonds

**Also I know Chris and Matt would never do this to him in real life**

Nick's heart felt heavy as he sat alone in the dimly lit room, the muffled sounds of celebration seeping through the walls. The faint echoes of laughter and clinking glasses mocked him, reminding him that his brothers, Chris and Matt, were out at some party, leaving him behind once again. This time, though, it stung more than usual. It was his 21st birthday, a milestone that was supposed to be celebrated together, like they always had.

He glanced at his phone, the screen lighting up with notifications—pictures and videos of Chris and Matt having the time of their lives, surrounded by friends and laughter. Each new post was a twist of the knife, a reminder that he wasn’t part of their world tonight. Nick sighed, feeling the weight of their absence press down on him. He tried to shake off the feeling, reminding himself that they were just having fun, that it wasn’t personal.

Yet, deep down, he couldn't help but feel the growing distance between them. It wasn't just tonight; it was the countless times they had brushed him aside, the moments they had shared without him. He missed the days when they were inseparable, when nothing could come between them. His mind drifted back to their childhood, to the countless birthdays they had spent together, the three of them against the world. How had things changed so much?

The room felt colder as he thought about the past, about the bond they used to share. He reached for his laptop and opened a folder labeled "Memories." There, hundreds of photos and videos documented their lives together. Nick found himself scrolling through old photos, memories of happier times. His finger hovered over a picture of the three of them, arms around each other, grinning at the camera. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring the image. How had they drifted so far apart?

His phone buzzed again, this time a call from Matt. Nick hesitated, then answered, trying to mask the hurt in his voice.

"Hey, Matt."

"Nick, where are you? We miss you!" Matt slurred, clearly drunk.

Nick's heart clenched. "I'm at home. Didn't think you'd notice."

"Of course, we notice! You're our brother!" Matt's voice was laced with a mix of confusion and hurt.

"Then why did you leave me behind?" Nick's voice cracked, unable to keep the pain at bay.

There was a long pause on the other end. "We didn't mean to," Matt finally said, his voice softer. "We just... got caught up."

Nick's tears spilled over, the years of feeling left out crashing down on him. "It's not just tonight, Matt. It's been happening for a while. I miss us. I miss being your brother."

Matt's silence was deafening. Nick could hear the background noise of the party, the laughter and music that he wasn't a part of.

"I'm sorry, Nick," Matt whispered. "We'll make it up to you. I promise."

But Nick wasn't sure if promises were enough anymore. He ended the call, feeling more alone than ever. As he lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he wished for the days when they were just three brothers against the world.

Eventually, Nick’s eyes grew heavy, but he was jolted awake by the sound of the front door opening. His heart skipped a beat, wondering if it was his brothers coming back for him. He quickly wiped his tears and laid back down, listening intently. Footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder until the door to his room creaked open.

Nick squeezed his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. He heard Chris and Matt whispering softly.

"He's asleep," Chris said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Should we wake him?"

"No," Matt replied. "Let him rest. We'll make it up to him tomorrow."

Nick's heart ached at their words. He heard the door click shut and the sound of their footsteps retreating. As he lay there, he couldn’t help but feel a mixture of relief and sadness. They had come back, but it still hurt to be left behind.

The next morning, Nick awoke to the smell of breakfast wafting through the house. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, hearing the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen. Curiosity got the better of him, and he made his way downstairs.

As he entered the kitchen, he was greeted by the sight of Chris and Matt bustling around, cooking a feast. They turned to him, their faces lighting up with smiles.

"Morning, birthday boy!" Chris said cheerfully.

"Happy belated birthday, Nick," Matt added, placing a stack of pancakes on the table. "We wanted to make it up to you."

Nick's heart swelled with emotion. He couldn't stay mad at them. They had made a mistake, but they were trying to make it right. He smiled, feeling the warmth of their love.

"Thanks, guys," Nick said, his voice thick with emotion. "I really appreciate this."

They sat down together, enjoying the breakfast they had prepared. The tension from the previous night melted away as they laughed and shared stories. It felt like old times, like the bond they had was as strong as ever.

After breakfast, Chris and Matt revealed their plans for the day. They had organized a surprise outing, just the three of them. They visited their favorite childhood spots, reminiscing and creating new memories. They spent the day at the park, played games, and even had a mini birthday celebration with a homemade cake.

As the day drew to a close, they sat together, watching the sunset. Nick felt a sense of contentment wash over him. They had their ups and downs, but at the end of the day, they were brothers. Nothing could change that.

"Thank you for today," Nick said, looking at Chris and Matt. "It means a lot to me."

"We're sorry for last night," Chris replied. "We never meant to hurt you."

"Yeah," Matt added. "We love you, Nick. We promise to be better."

Nick smiled, feeling the sincerity in their words. "I love you guys too."

They sat in comfortable silence, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Nick knew that they would face more challenges in the future, but as long as they had each other, they could overcome anything. And for the first time in a long while, he felt truly hopeful about the future.

[oli-reads]

𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 "𝐀 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥'𝐬 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫" 𝐛𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

“I’ve already learned my lesson here: when you catch someone lying about a murdered girl, you go ask them why.”

Title A Good Girl's Guide To Murder

Author Holly Jackson

Genre Mystery; Thriller; YA

Pages 433

THIS REVIEW HAS A COUPLE OF SPOILERS, NOTHING TOO SIGNIFICANT.

Hello fellow readers! What I have in my paws today is a review of "A Good Girl's Guide To Murder" by Holly Jackson! This is a YA mystery-thriller with a lot of twists and turns, investigation entry logs, maps, etc, which allow you to get into the whole investigative vibe!

Reading Flow ★★★★★

Writing ★★★★★

Plot ★★★★

Characters ★★★★

Spicy none

“But sometimes remembering isn’t for yourself, sometimes you do it just to make someone else smile. Those lies were allowed.”

Goodreads rating 4.33★ My rating 4.5★

This one had me hooked asf. I went from not wanting to put it down, to reaching the final chapters and not wanting to continue it because I was enjoying myself too much to finish it. 😂

*SPOILER ALERT* I really enjoyed the whole plot and was excited for most of it but I was a little sad and confused with Barney's death. I don't think it was necessary and it actually bummed me out quite a lot.

Aside from that I really was at the edge of my seat at the end of each chapter as the investigation got more and more captivating, I just HAD TO KNOW what happened and so I found it a very easy-to-read book because it flows naturally. It mentions various subjects like mental health, substance use, sexual assault and at some point even racism. It has romance happening in the background but it's never the focus and aside from the characters interactions you don't see much mention of it.

“He kissed her, and she glowed with that feeling. The one with wings. “You bring the rain down on them, Pip.” “I will.”

This book will have a tv show adaptation some time soon! Shooting has already wrapped up yet we don't have a date yet. I'm both excited and scared for this because, well, we know how hard it is to capture a book's magic and expectation, but at least it's not a movie. I think it has more potential if we have several episodes to explore the story.

“women can be just as dangerous as men.”

Anyway, if you made it this far thank you for reading this review! I'll leave you with the synopsis if you'd like to take a look, as well as it's Goodreads link. See you soon! 𓃠

If you'd like, follow Oli's instagram page!

SYNOPSIS

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40916679-a-good-girl-s-guide-to-murder

Everyone in Fairview knows the story.

Pretty and popular high school senior Andie Bell was murdered by her boyfriend, Sal Singh, who then killed himself. It was all anyone could talk about. And five years later, Pip sees how the tragedy still haunts her town.

But she can't shake the feeling that there was more to what happened that day. She knew Sal when she was a child, and he was always so kind to her. How could he possibly have been a killer?

Now a senior herself, Pip decides to reexamine the closed case for her final project, at first just to cast doubt on the original investigation. But soon she discovers a trail of dark secrets that might actually prove Sal innocent . . . and the line between past and present begins to blur. Someone in Fairview doesn't want Pip digging around for answers, and now her own life might be in danger.

[3terna15unshin3]

Then Because She Goes

When you leave, I cry on the inside

★ Chapter 11 of 15, 5082 words

★ Matty Healy x Original Female Character

★ warnings: !!! mature content, minors please do not interact !!!, smut, thigh riding, edging

<< 10

9 June, 2019

“Fuck,” Este cursed, as a loud sound in the flat below hers caused her to spill a drop of tea on her pants. She quickly wiped it away and got up to grab her beloved Tide pen—drawing on the spot to prevent any staining.

With a film on the TV, it was a quiet morning and a relaxing day off for her. She stayed in comfy clothes, hair tucked away messily in a clip, not worrying about work or bills needing to be paid or how desperately her room needed tidying. Her body had been stationary for most of the morning. It was a deserved laziness, in her opinion. But, a buzz from her phone signalled an incoming text, interrupting her and her tea once more.

matty <3

Sun, 9 Jun at 10:59 AM

Attachment: 1 Image

Thinking of you x

It was a photo of a small yellow origami star. He held it delicately between his thumb and middle finger, raising it up in the air in front of his hotel window. Este could see the architecture of the city he stayed in in the background. Germany, I think, she considered, though she couldn’t remember which city.

Sun, 9 Jun at 11:00 AM

Xx

:((((((((

Why the sad face

You’re getting all sappy on me and i miss you

Am I being too sweet for your liking??

Yea like chill for a sec

I’m smiling at my phone and everything

Soz x

But you’ve got me doing little crafts alone in my hotel room just because they remind me of you so maybe you should chill

Or maybe be less chill bc why are you never sappy or sweet with me ????? Hm???

hey I’m sweet !!!!!!!!!! Don’t be rude

The star thing is like painfully cute tho how do you expect me to top that

--- 22 June, 2019

Este ★

Sat, 22 Jun at 18:35 PM

Hey, I know it’s been hard lately and that you’ve been busy writing but this poem makes me happy and I think you need some hope at the moment

Attachment: 1 Image

Maybe you’ve heard of it already or will think it’s too simple but it's what I want to say to u :)

Matty’s heavy eyes stared at the bright blue light of his screen. The band were closing out on their sixth month of touring, and his head had gotten a bit cloudy. Desperate to get Notes On A Conditional Form out as soon as possible, any free moments they had were spent writing and recording. He poured so much of himself during every show and even more into every song written that not much was left when he was on his own. It was nonstop. Slumps like this were bound to occur while on the road, and now that Matty had healthier ways of coping with them, they weren’t as big of a deal. But they were still there, eating away at his energy—blurring the lines of his self esteem and self hatred.

The poem Este attached was “The Orange” by Wendy Cope. He hadn’t heard of it before. So, he read the words quietly to himself.

“At lunchtime I bought a huge orange—the size of it made us all laugh. I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave—they got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy, as ordinary things often do. Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park. This is peace and contentment. It's new.

The rest of the day was quite easy. I did all the jobs on my list and enjoyed them and had some time over. I love you. I'm glad I exist.”

Este was right about it being simple. But it was its simplicity that made Matty feel it deeply in his stomach. If he’d been sent such words by any other person in the world, it might have felt patronising—but coming from her, it made sense. There wasn’t anything that he loved more than things, art, that commanded him how to feel. Este knew that. And the words she sent commanded him to find light in the simple things. To bask in the innocence of life. To realise that if he isn’t happy, he’s just human. Fleeting moments of beauty are what matter. It was exactly what he needed to hear.

Este ★

Sat, 22 Jun at 19:00 PM

Please never stop sending me stuff

Reading the line “I’m glad I exist” felt so important

Because I am

Especially with you around x

--- 1 July, 2019

Luckily, flying from Stockholm back to Manchester wasn’t very far. So, it was easy for Matty to get on a plane to catch Este’s 28th birthday between his shows. He was a day early, but it was the only chance he had to come see her—so he took it. And somehow managed to keep it a surprise.

With Cate’s help, Matty followed through with his plan to Uber to their flat as soon as he landed; to drop off his stuff, grab food, and set up birthday decorations before walking over to Greenhouse to see Este. A bouquet of variously coloured tulips with brown paper surrounding it was cradled in his arms as he made his way. The sun peeked through the partly cloudy sky, beaming down on his tired state. He shook the nerves out and reached for the door handle.

The familiar chime caught him by surprise, as the seven months it had been since he’d last stepped into the shop forced him to forget that they were there. It brought Este’s attention to the front from her spot in the back corner where she was shelving. Sam poked his head out from the back room in curiosity.

“I heard an ‘Este Manansala’ turns 28 tomorrow…” Matty announced sarcastically before she realised who he was. The look on her face once she did was priceless.

“Oh my god. Shut up,” muttered Este as she weaved through the cramped furniture to embrace him excitedly. A giddy and uncontrollably happy laugh came from her belly had Matty leaned back while they hugged to lift her feet off the orange carpet.

“Happy Birthday, love.” he whispered in her ear before putting her down. Este tried to wipe the dumb smile on her face but failed. She kissed him instead.

Matty tasted like cigarette smoke and smelt of the flowers he held. The month between their last kiss didn’t stop her from recognizing the familiar shape of his lips when they were against hers. It lingered long and deep. They sighed into each other with satisfaction.

“What are you doing here? You’re mad,” reacted Este when they pulled away.

“To take you out on your birthday.” His hand remained on her cheek as he responded, enjoying the feeling of her soft skin. “And by ‘take you out’ I mean take you to the food I’ve put on your dining room table.”

“Have you already been by my flat?”

Matty nodded. “Went straight there after I landed. We boarded early, so Cate said I almost caught you before you left.” He laughed at the dumbfounded look on Este’s face as she struggled to accept the fact that he was real and face-to-face with her. His arms extended to shove the flowers into her grasp. Tulips were her favourite.

“Are you going to introduce me?” His finger pointed at Sam. “Or will you just stare at me with your mouth open right in front of your boss?”

She snapped out of it and turned to face the blond shop owner.

“Gosh, I’m sorry. Sam, this is Matty. My, um, my—”

“Nice to meet you, mate. I’ve been in here a couple times over the years and seen you then, but I’m glad to be formally introduced, I guess,” interrupted Matty.

It was a bit odd that he cut her off so quickly, as the timing allowed her to almost hear his fear of the topic—audibly in his voice. Her smile faltered slightly as the two men made small talk, and she spiralled silently about what she could’ve said. I should’ve just stopped at ‘This is Matty,’ instead of trying to explain who he is, thought Este. Did Matty think I was going to say he was my boyfriend? Do I want him to be my boyfriend? Does the idea of me thinking he’s my boyfriend scare him?

Her ears perked and she snapped back into the conversation when Matty mentioned that they should be taking off soon.

“Food might be getting cold by now, E. We should get going,”

“Matty, it’s half two.” She looked over at Sam for confirmation that she couldn’t just leave in the middle of her shift, but was met with a smug smile instead.

“Go on.” he encouraged with little explanation.

“Who’s going to look after the—“

“Oliver’s on his way. He wanted extra hours this week anyway.”

Guilt settled into Este’s chest. “You didn’t have to call him in and make him rush over just for me, Sam. I feel terrible,”

“I didn’t call him in. I put him down for a three o’clock start when I made his schedule last month.” Sam reassured, as he came around the counter to stand in front and lean on it. He crossed his arms, waiting for Este to accept that he had been in on the plan to let her off early.

But, she didn’t let down. “Then why would you schedule me as well?”

“Jesus Christ Este, to surprise you! Now please leave, I’m begging. I can’t take this any longer,” Sam said while laughing in her face and forcing her towards the door. “Happy early birthday.”

“How long have you had this planned?” asked Este, turning to Matty and waiting for a response.

“A while. Any more questions, or can we go?”

-

Este’s arm tangled within Matty’s as they walked the few blocks back home along the pavement. Her work bag was slung over his shoulder as she held the tulips and sniffed them occasionally for the comfort of their fresh smell. Now that the shock had disappeared and she had the time to fully take in his appearance, Este smiled at his outfit. The Vans tied round his feet were paired with a bright and fitted graphic tee, tucked into high-waisted green trousers.

“You’re staring at me.”

A giggle escaped her lips as her and Matty turned down her street and approached her flat. “Am I not allowed to?” she argued.

He shrugged, with a smile. “I don’t mind. Just want to know why.”

“Dunno, really. You’re just pretty. And I like your outfit.”

Her keys jingled when she pulled them out of her pocket to let them into the building. As they stepped in and through the next couple of doors, soon finding and pressing the ‘up’ button for the lift, Matty said, “You know, you’d think I’d be weird about you calling me ‘pretty’, but it actually felt quite nice.”

“I can call you ‘pretty’ more often, if you want. I think of it all the time, so I’d just have to start letting you know when I do,” Este suggested, turning her doorknob and entering her place.

There was a banner of letters that spelled out ‘happy birthday’ delicately strung across the wall that sat above the dining room table. The decoration was slightly crooked, but colourful and iridescent—so the sun pouring in through the window bounced off of them and shone glittery reflections all over the room. Floaty balloons were trapped against the ceiling with their strings hanging downwards at different lengths. A vase of water was the centrepiece, ready to be the home for the tulips that Este still held as she looked around. Her eyes travelled to everything else littered on the table; noticing the handful of tall tapered candles whose colours matched that of the flowers, confetti scattered across the surface of the stained wood, a bottle of wine, and a couple of takeaway bags.

A nervous Matty stood behind and waited for her to say something. When silence remained, as she continued to search for ways to thank him, he filled the space by slinging his arm around her shoulder and rubbing it gently.

Bringing his face next to hers, Matty asked, “Do you like it?” and pecked her temple.

“Does the general public know that you’re this soft of a bloke?”

He shook his head at her inability to take things seriously. “They’ll catch on eventually.”

Este laughed and turned to him, grabbing his chin, pulling it towards her to give him a kiss on the cheek back. “It’s perfect. You have a good eye,”

“Cate helped pick everything out. I’m not the best decorator. But she was busy dealing with the helium tank to fill all the balloons so I ended up laying everything out by myself in a rush. That’s why it looks a bit shit.” Matty explained, pointing at the crooked letters on the wall.

“Stop it,” she insisted, unwrapping the tulips to dip their stems in the vase and complete the decor. “There’s nothing ‘shit’ about you. It would’ve been enough even if you’d shown up empty handed and sat on the sofa with me all night.”

Stepping closer to the table to copy her, Matty unpacked the food he’d ordered for them. He uncorked the bottle and poured a glass of wine for each of them. She sat down, getting comfortable and increasingly hungry as her stomach rumbled. Hearing its noises and laughing, the two of them dug in.

Once their plates were scraped clean, Matty threw out a “Room for cake?” while a smile sat on his face, knowing they were both too stuffed to even sniff something sweet.

She cradled her full belly, slouching in her chair. “I can’t bring myself to turn down cake but I’m frightened that like, anatomically, it won’t fit in here.”

Matty got up and walked to the fridge to fetch it anyway. “Let's just do the whole ‘sing and blow out the candles’ thing. We can eat it later.”

The white box was set on the table. He let her open the lid and slide out the dessert herself. It was a small heart-shaped cake with light green and white piped icing, reading ‘Happy 28th Este’ across the top. Bright maraschino cherries lined its edge. She grinned at how perfect and delicate it was. A 2 and an 8 candle were peeled out of their package by Matty, who stuck them into the icing, getting a bit on his finger in the process and licking it. Once a match was struck and the wicks were ignited, Matty sang the classic song to her gently.

“Happy birthday to you,” he finished with the last line, maintaining eye contact from across the table.

Este’s brown irises glowed a honey colour from the warmth of the flickering fire, while her cheeks ached from the smile plastered onto it that refused to leave. Looking down to the cake to avoid confronting Matty’s phone that now pointed up at her as he took a picture, she paused to make a wish. He admired her through his screen. A couple of seconds passed before she finally blew out the flames.

As expected, they couldn’t bear the idea of eating a slice. So, they packed it up into its box and placed it back in her fridge, continuing to clean their lunchtime mess, collecting the dishes in the sink and tucking their seats in. But, Matty knew that the corny birthday celebrations weren’t over just yet—he still had her small pile of wrapped presents sat next to his bag, which he then picked up and brought over.

“You really didn’t need to get me anything. All of this is so great already,” she complained, guilty that she hadn’t done anything for his birthday, and gesturing to everything he’d done so far.

They found comfort on her fluffy sofa as he shook his head.

“It’s just something small. Don’t worry.” reassured Matty, who set the three rectangular gifts in her lap. They were similar in shape and size, individually & messily wrapped in patterned paper. He watched as Este’s apprehensive fingertips ripped through the material and revealed what was beneath it.

Of course they’re books, she thought, smiling at how predictable the two of them were. But, what she saw next caught her by surprise. As the other two got unwrapped, Este came to realise that they were all books she had been desperate to read. The shock came from the fact that she hadn’t ever mentioned the titles to Matty, and that as she flipped through them, they were written in. Sticky tabbed, underlined, and starred lines jumped out to catch her attention. Her mouth remained agape for a minute.

“How did you know that I’ve been wanting these?”

“Just looked at that app you showed me during Big Weekend. Came in handy,” he explained. “I picked the five from your ‘to read’ list that seemed the most interesting to me but only ended up getting to finish these three.”

“See, I told you it’s useful.” She laughed in disbelief as she inspected each novel. “Did you really read all of these and write in them for me?”

Matty nodded, grabbing one and looking through it himself. “They’re all great. Helped quiet down my thoughts, I think, since they’ve been too loud lately. Plus, they’re kind of like letters—everything I marked as important or stand-out, and every note I wrote in the margins was done with you in mind. Written for you. It made it fun,”

Este pulled him in for an embrace, squeezing him with delight. A couple of repeated pecks landed on his cheek.

“This is so thoughtful of you, Matty. I don’t know what to say,”

He kissed her once she finished speaking. Her lips had a minty flavour to them.

“So what did you wish for? When you blew out your candles?” Matty wondered aloud, while turning sideways and crossing his legs over one another, to face her fully.

Este copied him. “It won’t come true if I tell you,” she defended, “But there is something I was thinking of getting for my birthday.”

“And what’s that?”

“Do you know of a good piercer around here?”

-

Less than ten minutes later, Matty and Este found themselves walking side by side into the heart of downtown Manchester. Affleck’s was their destination; and the journey was short and sweet. She’d explained to him that she loved the adrenaline of getting pierced and was in the mood for some change. Since The Studio, the piercing and tattoo parlour within the beloved market, took walk-ins, they wasted no time before heading out of the flat with determination.

It was the early evening on a Monday, so there weren’t many people around, and there wasn’t a wait to get seen by a piercer. A couple of waivers were signed before Este winced in pain from the needle going through the cartilage between her nostrils.

Matty held her hand while it happened and hissed painfully alongside her as she squeezed his fingers to brace herself. The minute he complained that she was hurting him, Este gave him a death stare as the needle still sat in her nose and the piercer prepared the jewellery for insertion. Clearly her pain was a bit more intense than his. He got the message.

After it was done, she was handed a mirror to take a look. Este liked the symmetry of the new silver hoop that went through her septum; how it balanced out the weight of the plethora of jewellery stacked on either of her ears. She grinned at her reflection.

“I love it, thank you so much!” said Este, to the piercer. She then looked over to Matty, waiting for his opinion. He reached out to flick a piece of fluff out of her hair, lovingly.

“You’re like my little bull.”

There were stars in his eyes.

With their mission accomplished, they wandered around the rest of the shops without any intention of buying anything else. Her arm was linked with his. They pointed at mannequins clad in heinous clothing to make fun of them and people watched.

“Want to see something funny?” asked Matty as they approached a stairwell far too familiar to him.

“Depends on what it is.”

He dragged her up the first flight and Este’s eyes scanned over its walls. Every inch was covered in posters. A certain one caught her eye, and she instantly knew what he was referencing. Young Ross, Adam, Matty, and George were displayed on an angsty black and white poster near the floor, casually accompanied by ones of David Bowie, The Smiths, and Bob Dylan. Este couldn’t help but laugh at how different Matty looked in the dramatically contrasted shot.

“My god, look at the state of your hair!” she teased.

“A lot of people actually want me to bring the shaved sides back, you know.”

She stepped back and held her phone up, gesturing for him to pose for a picture next to the silly anecdote, still laughing. “I can’t even recall how many times I’ve walked up these stairs without even noticing your little face down there.”

Matty kept a straight face and held up his hand in a thumbs-down position for her photo. “I like to come here whenever I’m in town and have the time to. Seems to get smaller every time.”

“Okay, granddad.”

-

Their legs grew tired of sauntering around with no objective, so soon enough, they collapsed back onto Este’s sofa. She lazily put something random on the telly and sprawled her legs across Matty’s lap—laying down while he sat upward. Rhythmic circles were traced onto the skin right above her ankles by his fingertips as they happily relaxed in the privilege of doing nothing, but together. The lack of plans helped them appreciate every minute passing; how they somehow seemed to pass by slower and feel sweeter as they sat in each other’s company.

In need of the toilet, Este forced herself to leave the nestled position they’d spent the recent hours in. The chill enveloping Matty after her body warmth was no longer draped across him made him frown. But, she came back quickly, and wasn’t even gone long enough to need to ask him what she’d missed on the episode of Bake Off that flashed on her TV screen.

Returning to Matty and the sofa, she decided to sit on top of him. Her knees were on either side of his hips. He smirked at her forward and suddenly bold demeanour as his hands found themselves on Este’s arse. They were comfortable there.

“Have a good wee?” Matty asked with a laugh.

“Yeah, great actually. Thanks.” Her fingers combed through the long and shaggy section of his hair, near the front, to part it down the centre and tuck the curls behind his ears. Seeing more of his face was the goal in her action. “You look pretty.” she repeated, from earlier. Matty’s smirk morphed into a closed-mouth smile at the sound of her niceties.

“I feel pretty with you on top of me.” he retaliated, suspending the suggestive mood she initiated.

Este’s hands remained on either side of his neck when he brought her lips down to meet his. They moved against one another delicately, but both wanted more. It was only a matter of time before the lust between them escalated the heat of the moment. So, she deepened their kiss, pulling Matty in closer and shifting her hips to feel more of him and humming in the process. She winced when his nose brushed against hers and her fresh piercing, but it didn’t stop her.

The friction she created over his bulge made him groan. He pinched the skin at her waist with greed as his hands crept beneath her top. It only encouraged Este to continue with her fluid movements, his pants growing tighter.

As much as Matty wanted to revel in the pleasure of his girl hovering above him—one of his favourite places for her to be—he considered the fact that it was her birthday. Her day. The thought made him want to try something new.

“Can I make you feel good?” he whispered, breaking their lips apart for air and to squeeze his question into the muggy air.

She nodded against him, beginning to climb off of his lap to lay on her back; assuming Matty wanted to go down on her. But, he stopped her before she could. Instead, he just sat up straighter, nearer to the edge of the cushion beneath them, and used his hands to position her straddle over only one of his legs. He wanted Este to ride his thigh.

They didn’t bother taking off any of their clothes. His hands guided her back and forth, her eyes fluttering shut in indulgence as the seam of her shorts and the pressure of his leg pressed against her clit. She bit back a moan with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

“Let me hear you, E.” encouraged Matty. Obliging, the next roll of her hips dragged a string of profanity out of her throat. “That’s better.”

The tightness in her lower stomach grew. Hot breath cycled between them as they breathed through their mouths during the lulls that found their lips no longer tangled together. Este could feel his hard-on when the top of her thigh came forward to graze it, growing wetter and closer to her climax by the second. She was a mess, and putty in Matty’s hands.

His eyes were glued to her. The way she moved and moaned his name with determination drove him insane, and made it hard for him to ignore the throbbing in his pants. Her face dropped into his neck, scratching at his skin softly with her teeth as she whined.

“Harder,” Este muttered, clearly getting close. He listened to her command and used his hands to bring her heat along his leg with aggression. The increased force made her cry out into him, head still hidden beneath his jaw.

Matty let her moans heighten in pitch, feeling her start to shake against him. But, suddenly, his hands slowed down her movements. “No,” he told her, “Not yet.”

Cruelly, he deprived her of the feeling she was chasing. A gentler and slower pace continued, much to Este’s dismay, as she quietly begged for more.

“Matty, please,” fell from her lips with desperation.

In response, he began building up the pressure, but at a snail’s pace. Her hips buckled forward in attempts for any pleasure she could get.

“Ask me one more time, baby.”

Her thick hair fell around her face, sticking to her sweaty skin as her head spun. “I need to come. Please, let me,” she forced out to him between her heavy breathing, and as soon as Matty heard her words, he tightened his grip and encouraged her hips to move faster. The sudden boom of resistance on her sensitive core drew more noises from her mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Este could almost see stars. Only a couple seconds of him grinding her against him and uttering filth into her ear finally brought her to her orgasm, the convulsed muscles in her abdomen releasing their pressure. A wet patch soaked through her shorts and onto Matty’s when she moaned his name. The two of them slowed to a stop to catch their breath and kiss hungrily once more. A giddy expression couldn’t be wiped from her face if she tried.

When she gained a bit of her composure back, still sat on Matty’s lap, she took note of the almost concerning amount of sweat that encompassed their skin and the now dirty clothing they were wearing. “I think I need a shower,” Este decided.

Matty scoffed. “You’re going to leave and take a shower? When this is what you did to me?” he pointed to his crotch in disbelief. He was painfully hard.

Giggling and with a shrug, she responded, “Then come with.”

--- 2 July, 2019

That night, they washed the perspiration off of each other (after the shower head Este promised) and threw on comfy clothes. Both exhausted, they planned on climbing into her bed—but when Matty caught The Goonies popping up on the TV out in the lounge, they ended up staying awake.

Not for much longer, though. They must have only seen ten minutes of the cult classic film before dozing off and spending the night with their jumbled limbs squished together on the sofa. Aching muscles were a theme of the morning that followed.

It was reasonably early when they woke. Matty remembered to wish Este happy birthday the minute he learned she was conscious, showering her face in playful pecks. She didn’t want to do anything more with her day though, and thought yesterday was kind enough for him to plan. A quiet day in with Matty by her side was what she wanted. So they did exactly that, and stayed round her flat to do more nothings. It was peaceful. It was needed.

The annoying thing was that Este didn’t allow him to smoke in the house. When it was a joint, cracking a window was fine—as she frequently did so herself—but she forced him to take his cigarettes outside. As Matty needed another one, she followed him down, to soak up all of him she could get.

But, in the back of her mind, Este knew she was looking for a moment to be serious with him. Have a conversation about what had been fogging her conscience since he surprised her at Greenhouse the previous day.

Leaning against the wall of her building while he took a drag next to her, she mustered up the courage.

“So,” she started quietly, “Do you see other people?”

12 >>

[gradstudentdrone]

Grief Diaries, Day One: The Enormity of Grief

Hello Tumblr, I am back.

When I started this blog, I was 30 (!). I was a grad student - hence the name: grad student drone; I was trying to finish my dissertation; I wasn't yet married to MOTL and thoughts of children were completely out of my radar. I blogged fairly regularly, then intermittently, and then rarely. The last post I made was in October, 2017. At that point, I was a year plus into a tenure-track job, I had one kid and was knee-deep in my first year of therapy, after suffering from a debilitating bout of postpartum depression. I thought I'd blog again, but always had something else to do: whether it was hustling to get tenure, realizing that the hustle was misplaced and that the rules were rigged and that academic meritocracy was a myth (all of which I speak about with awesome guests in my podcast, Academic Aunties), trying to survive a pandemic, and - quite honestly - trying to find an identity outside academia. The years since were also full of lots of love -- MOTL and I now have two kids! -- but also a lot of heartbreak, including pregnancy losses and the loss of loved ones.

And it is loss that brings me again to this blog. You see, exactly a month ago today, on June 30, 2024, I lost my dad, Leonides Fulgueras Tungohan, who was 73 years old.

Here he is, at 28, posing with a cig, with shaggy black hair, a precursor to today's shaggy, K-pop hair styles:

The loss was unexpected: my dad had health conditions, including gout and diabetes, but he wasn't terminally ill. Our last conversation was me, kissing his cheek, and telling him "I love you" and asking that he "drive safe" after he and my mom drove away from our house following my kids' dance recitals. My last sighting of my dad was when he was walking behind my mom while my mom and I Face-Timed, wincing in pain as he tried to walk to the couch. "Your dad is having another gout flare-up," my mom explained. I didn't think anything of it. When my dad peered into my mom's computer screen and saw that my kid, SG, was there, he brightened up, as he always did when he saw my kids, and said hi.

To say that these final moments haunt me is to make a huge fucking understatement. In fact, it would be no exaggeration to say that the last month has been a blur. It has been a month of complete and utter heartbreak.

I vacillate between two modes: debilitating, heart-wrenching, absolute sadness or run-of-the-mill sadness. When I feel the former, the enormity of my loss sometimes hits me, so hard, that I have to grip something -- a ledge, a chair, a table -- to keep from falling. When I feel the latter, I'm only kinda sad because I get caught up in day-to-day tasks, such as putting my kids to bed or doing the laundry. In these everyday mundane moments, my sadness is like a low hum -- it's there, in the background, but not so painful that it becomes debilitating.

Whether it's the former or the latter, there isn't a second in the days since June 30 that I am not sharply, keenly, viscerally aware that my dad is no longer here. It takes monumental effort to tamp it all down because when I allow myself to feel the full range of my grief, I collapse. And I can't collapse, not when I still have to live, not when there's so much shit to do, because what is most cruel about death is that with death comes a lot of work. Work that tends to fall on women. Work that tends to fall on eldest daughters. Work that is layered on top of the other work that we've got to still do, from paid work to social reproductive work.

One of my lowest moments in the last week was needing to find space to grieve, by myself, without interruption. And so I bought a ticket to watch a movie - Fly Me to the Moon - by myself. Sitting at the very back, watching couples and friends in front of me murmur and laugh among themselves, I could finally, in the dark, just be.

Having a space to just be is also why I am returning to this blog because it provides me a space to process and find a bit of a reprieve from all sorts of expectations. It's also a way for me to remember my dad, to think of him, to place my memories of who he is in written form. This is also going to be an experiment for me because I want to see just how the next year will be for me. A friend, S, who also lost her dad a few years ago, told me that grief is all-consuming in the beginning but that eventually, you make peace with it and that grief will almost be like a friend, who is always just there, whose presence you just get used to. So my commitment, on day one of my grief diaries, is to track whether I will ever make peace with my grief. Will grief be a friend who is always just there? Because right now, grief is (still) all-consuming and doesn't seem to want to give me a break. Grief isn't a friend yet. Grief and I haven't made peace yet. I have complicated feelings about grief: I want grief to just leave me alone, to stop suffocating me in its pervasiveness, but I also want grief not to ever leave. Because I fear that if grief leaves, does that mean my dad and my memories of him does too?

Along the way, I might write about work and my efforts to truly pivot away from prioritizing work over everything: if there is anything I now know, with absolute clarity, is that life is fucking short, and we all need to prioritize what matters. I might also write about my kids as they deal with the loss of their grandpa, about how my family and I reconfigure our lives to see what happens next. I will also write about the (gendered) work that accompanies death and dying and how the business of death is so grossly capitalist. Hey, I'm a researcher! I can't turn that part of my brain off!

We will see how this year goes. And if you're also working through your own grief, and want to process things with me, maybe we can do it together?

[thegreatunifier]

stop (now a sad? one >:3)

It was all he could do to keep his wits about him. The sounds of battle ad war raged around him, beating against his skull like a war drum and yet he pushed past the pain, past the pressure and the exhaustion because there was something a hell of a lot more important that needed his attention. "Come on.... Come ON!" He pushed himself faster, his wings beating harder and harder to catch up to the being that was 100 feet below him and the distance was not lessoning. He couldn't be late, he wouldn't be too late. He had to get there in time or else....

There was no room for 'or else'. He gritted against the muscles screaming in his back, in his wings in his shoulders. Every cell cried for relief, just for a moment but he ignored it. 70 feet.

50 feet.

30 feet.

"Wiccan!" He was so close, and yet Billy had failed to regain consciousness. The energy blast had barely skimmed Teddy's shoulder but it was just enough to slam into the back of Billy's head right as the spell he was casting left his lips. He had already failed once. He wasn't going to do so again. 20 feet.

10 feet. He caught the very dregs of Billy's cloak and hurled him up and against his body with only one moment more to angle himself out of a direct nosedive. Pain exploded along his head, shoulders, back, the world nothing but blurs of color before it slowed and finally stopped. All he could hear was his heart, the breath tearing from his chest and for another long, agonizing moment, it was all Teddy could do but just let the pain wash over him. The second he felt his healing ability kick in he was moving, rolling so that Billy was laying down against the ground, shielded by Teddy's body. "Come on, Bee. You gotta wake up now okay?" His hand slid to the back of Billy's head and was only slightly relieved that there wasn't any blood. But a blast like that, with how hot he personally knew those chambers were, didn't mean much. It could have cauterized on contact, doing nothing to aid the wound behind it. "Bee...Billy. Please, love wake up. Please..." He shook him as much as he dared, ignoring the sounds of the raging and dying around him. This couldn't be it. This wouldn't be it. This was not how he was going to lose his husband.

"Not today, Death you bastard. Not Today. Come on, Billy..." He shook him once more, barely tapping the skin of Billy's cheek only to see the black eyelashes flutter and finally open. Every ounce of air left Teddy's lungs in a gush, and his head fell down to rest on Billy's shoulder. Thank the gods... Oh, he didn't care what he had to do to repay them, he would. Thank the Gods. "Unngh, what... What happened?" Billy's words were slurred, but they seemed to clear the more he came into awareness. Teddy pressed a kiss to Billy's neck, his chin and finally his lips before he pulled back enough to look into his eyes. "Someone got a lucky shot." He couldn't help the smile, the all out relief that made the pain, the fighting and world around them fall into the background. "But you're okay. Just might have a nasty bump after this." He leaned back, wings still curled around them both as Teddy helped Billy sit upright. Billy's hand moved to the back of his head, hissing when he felt the now obvious line of bald skin. "And a new hairstyle apparently." He looked up into Teddy's eyes, suddenly realizing how close the king was to breaking. "I'm okay, Tee. But we need to move, there are people who-" "No." The command came out harsher than he intended but he didn't back down. He saw the familiar stubbornness flash in Billy's eyes, but Teddy didn't let him continue the thought. "No, we're done. Lauri-Ell can handle things from here. You and I need to go."

"But Teddy we can't I mean, look around-" "Billy, stop." Teddy cupped his husband's cheeks, holding him still so he had nothing else to do but to look at him. "I'm exhausted, you damn near almost fell head first into the crust of this planet and I am not going to allow you to kill yourself when we have people who can help finish this." He rarely pulled rank, hated doing it, especially when it came to Billy. But the image of his lifeless body falling faster than Teddy could catch him would not leave his minds eye, and he doubted it would for a long, long time.

"Please... Our forces are pushing them back. I was about to tell you when someone got a lucky shot past me, okay? Let my Accuser handle this and let's go home." He could see Billy struggling, fighting against what he knew he could do and what he knew he should do. And just when Teddy thought he was going to have to haul his stubborn husband over his shoulder and take him home himself, he saw Billy slump in defeat. "Okay. Let's go home."

[lycanlovingvampyre]

MAG 136 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: putting up a new fence.

MELANIE: “Well. I’ve kinda got to… uh. (inhale) I’ve got somewhere to be. Do you mind if – if she hangs around with…?” JON: "Uh, I suppose – Not at all. She’s very welcome." I think it's super cute that Daisy doesn't want to be alone. Yeah, the reason for this is quite tragic and sad... I think this was the episode that made me go "Oh shit, I really like Daisy now!" to 100 %! I love everything about this episode!

JON: "If you don’t mind me asking – where are you off to?" [UNFORTUNATELY FOR BOTH OF THEM, THE ARCHIVIST’S SIGNATURE STATIC RUMBLES LOW IN THE BACKGROUND AS HE SPEAKS.] MELANIE: "Therapy. (surprised inhale) Wait…" I read a post about this once, that the Eye won't chose random information for Jon to suddenly drop into his mind. It's always something bad or intrusive (like suddenly knowing how Gertrude stopped the Sunken Sky. Or how one of Basira's school teachers died). Wouldn't be surprised, if this also got a grip on questions which could reveal a "dark secret". Like here, it wasn't a coincidence that compulsion slipped out with the question. It's the Eye choosing to act on it's own because there's juicy personal information to acquire. There's nothing Jon could have done to stop that, aside from just not asking this question. But that's why he's the Archivist, he always asked this kind of questions.

MELANIE: "It’s fine. I would probably have told you eventually anyway." Uhhh, am I the only one who thinks this line sounds a bit weird...? Especially the "It's fine". This doesn't sound like Lydia at all... Could this actually be Alex??? (Wouldn't be the first time we suspect him impersonating Lydia/Melanie - MAG 103).

"One of my earliest memories is cowering behind my mother, watching Labyrinth of the Minotaur on our tiny television, seeing the clay of the creature move and come alive in stop-motion. It terrified me. It thrilled me. It’s a moment that’s never completely left me. I’ve always had two passions: engineering and special effects. So naturally, the course of my life gradually led me towards working on animatronics. I don’t – care about the other stuff, not really. A squib’s a squib no matter how much you dress it up, and… (inhales) makeup never really wowed me." 1.) Not really-counter of S4: 4! 2.) I totally know that feeling. For me it was Jurassic Park. I guess this is also why I've always loved Stan Winston's work the most out of all practical FX studios and artists I follow. I have no idea about engineering, but I'm good at sculpting and crafting. Naturally, SFX make-up always fascinated me as well and they often work closely together (part make-up / part costume / part animatronics). It's just so damn expensive to make myself, the prices for silicone and resin skyrocketed the last couple of years. I want to make an animatronic mask soooo badly... Luckily my spouse is an engineer and I have a few of tutorials from the Stan Winston School membership, so one day! *fingers crossed*

"His earlier stuff I certainly enjoyed, but… for all my fondness for that – animated Minotaur, his stop-motion work never really grabbed me like his animatronics." You know why stop-motion looks so jerky? Lack of motion blur. That's when go-motion came into play. They'd move the model slightly during exposure of that frame, recreating motion blur by doing this. The dragon Vermithrax in Dragonslayer was the best example for this, but it already went quite high-tech to achieve this. (ILM, Phil Tippet btw.)

"The way Neil tells it, he split from his partner Gabe in 1972, and sculpting for stop-motion had never really had the same charm after that." Gabe... Short for Gabriel. Sculpting, like with Clay^^ Lagorio was like "Yeah, the Spiral is too random for me, I need precision!!"

"I think we bonded on that shoot, sheltering from the rain for hours at a time, watching a soggy animatronic jaguar gradually start to rust." Everybody knows the story of the T-Rex in the rain, right? If not, so they build the T-Rex without the information that it's supposed to be raining in that scene. Well... the foam latex skin acted like a sponge and it got too heavy! This caused the T-Rex to shiver, so they had to dry her in-between shots (there are pictures of people whipping towels at the dino XD). This is also the reason why the roof of the car broke and came down onto the children. This was not planned! But the T-Rex got too heavy so the calculations weren't correct anymore and so it hit that glass roof with way too much force, oof.

OMG wait! Is that my favorite ambiance track there?? OMG it is! I totally missed that it was used here! Episode got even better now!

JON: "Mm, they were… Well, let’s just say it’s not a complete shock there was something unnatural to them." Mr. “watches documentaries for fun” saw a few of Neil Lagorio's movies! Not surprised since he read a lot as a kid, why wouldn't Jon be into fiction?

DAISY: (sigh) "She’s Web. Spider’s sneaky like that. Like that lighter you’re always using; where’d you get that?" JON: "Mm. Good point. We should keep our eyes open. Anyways –" Hahaha, there's even static during "Good point". I can't wait to tell my story about the lighter, it's hilarious.

DAISY: (sigh) "Yeah, well – (sigh) What do you think? You think I’m weak, just – (sigh) – ‘cause I’m not already chasing the next kill? You think I’m less me?" JON: "I – (sigh) I don’t feel like I’m exactly in the best place to judge the… intersection between free will and humanity. (stuttering inhale) I’m still trying to figure that out myself." Those two <3 I'm happy Jon has someone this season who gets him. Who he can talk to. I love their friendship so much...

JON: "My – (large sigh) My memories of the coma are not clear, but I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die. But ever since then, I – I don’t know if I made the right decision; I’m stronger now, tougher, I can – (he cuts himself off) If I do die, now, or get sealed away somewhere forever? I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. And I don’t want to lose anyone else, so if I can maybe – stop that happening, and the only danger is to me, I – I’ll do it in a heartbeat; worst case scenario, the universe loses another monster." DAISY: "That’s messed up." JON: (small laugh) (inhale) "Yeah. I suppose it is." Jon. Stop it. Get some help.

JON: "It, uh – hm – Is it, uh – Weird question, but – I – (sigh) I haven’t seen you in my dreams? The last couple of weeks?" DAISY: "Oh, ah – No, I – I work here now. Figured it seemed to protect the others, so –" That sounded like that relative "I haven't seen you in so long, you never visit me!" XD But further confirmation, that the dreams stop when you're working for the institute.

DAISY: “Boo-hoo, I’m so alone and a monster.” Yeah, those two <3

DAISY: (darkly) "If she doesn’t, I’ll rip her throat out." I love the sound of that line!

Putting that therapy scene into a Web episode was such a mean red herring!

@a-mag-a-day

[basil-the-scorned]

Ring the Bell

AN: I'm fine. Everything's fine. I totally didn't write this weekend in sadness after that match. In all seriousness thought, this came out of nowhere!

If you want to see it in AO3 form, link is right here!

AN 2: I don't know why, but towards the end, I made them very, very affectionate for some reason.

The title was still cold.

It laid on his stomach as he splayed out on the bed, a single thought echoing more and more in his head.

He doesn't want this championship. Not anymore.

It was fun, being able to challenge people from all types of backgrounds, and having more matches then he prepared for. A lot of work sure but he knew it was gonna come someday. He was extremely grateful about finally having some type of gold in AEW. People were finally taking him seriously.

But that's where his problem started. People took him seriously. He had to start caring.

When he started caring, the laid back attitude went away, and he became…something that came out only when he's focused.

He gets more red, more violent, cocky and aggressive. He takes more risks. Risks that isn't feeling like it's worth it anymore, not when he's now alone in a 2 bed hotel room he booked in advance, with a championship that has now warmed up on his stomach.

Slowly, Orange lifts his arms until it's above his head, the championship a weird blurry mess of gold, and the patriotic splashes of red, white and blue.

This stupid thing.

He had it but at what cost?

He hadn't seen Trent and Chuck since the match, besides them coming in and saving him. They haven't properly talked since he faced Trent. Chuck texts him gifs, but that's it. Danhausen's injured and texted that he was going somewhere else for the night.

He was alone. Just him and the belt.

He didn't know when the belt's color started to blur even more but he realized what was happening when he felt warmth sliding down his face. He inhaled slowly, to stop the rest from coming, but the exhale ended choked.

The belt flew across the room, landing and tumbling on the floor.

The only sound after that was Orange's face in the pillow, muffled cries leaking out into the room.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Tell me if this is a bad idea-"

"It's a bad idea."

Chuck glares at Trent. "I didn't finish, dickhead." Trent held his hands up, a small smile on his face. A small win for Chuck, since he hasn't done that in a week. That might change with his next sentence. "I was about to say maybe…we should…go see Orange?"

Trent looks at Chuck, who was now having second thoughts about this.

He was caught in the middle of this…things that happened between Trent and Orange. He knew that they were doing a match against each other, he knew that there were both competitive (despite what Orange acts like most of the time). He didn't prepare for them to take a friendly match and make it that much intense. He also didn't know that Trent was gonna be that hurt, and if Trent was hurt, he was hurt. That's his Best Friend.

However, he didn't like leaving Orange in the ring, or seeing him being with just Danhausen by his side (not stifling the little demon but recently…he's been doing some weird stuff). He wanted some harmony back.

But if it's not going to happen today, that's fine. It's cool, nothing to really worry-

"Ok."

Wait, what?

"What?" Chuck said out loud.

"I said ok. Let's go see him."

"…you're not planning on killing him, are you?"

Now it was Trent's turn to glare at Chuck. "Chuck, what the hell?"

"I'm just saying, you said Ok way too fast!"

"Well it wasn't a hard option! I just wanted some time away from him." Trent threw his arms up. " I got butthurt after the match, I didn't want to take it out on him, he didn't deserve it, so I just avoided him this week."

"Including text?"

"You know I haven't been texting a lot lately…"

"We'll talk about that later. Right now, it's orange time!"

"Wait, now?!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Ok, so they didn't go immediately to his room.

First they got peace offerings from the gift shop downstairs: orange juice, some new protein chips Orange started eating, some sour candy, an skyscraper book (Chuck's reasoning being Orange was into architecture stuff, and he wasn't lying. Problem was the book was intended for toddlers). They stuffed it all in Orange's bag that he left with them.

After that, they went by Danhausen's room and quickly checked on him. A little bruises, but he was fine. They would have stayed longer but Hook looked like he was going to kill them, and Jungleboy was ready to pass out.

Third place they went to…was back to Danhausen's room to get Orange's damn room number. This time, they gave Orange's protein chips to Hook as a peace offering. (When they got to the elevator, Trent pulled another bag he bought out of his hoodie.)

Finally they reached the floor to where Orange's room was.

Then Trent stops at the first couple of doors. Chuck notices way too quickly, and went back, putting one of his arms around Trent's shoulder as they took a much slower pace.

"Nervous?"

He didn't get a response. They kept walking.

"Why are you still friends with me?"

That's not what Chuck was expecting to come out of Trent's mouth.

"I drove Yuta away, I got pissed off at Orange for winning a match, I didn't like Danhausen at first. I'm not really a likable guy, I have a bad temper, and I drive people away."

"Bullshit."

The hard tone made Trent's eyes wide. Chuck's face was determined, his green eyes sparked with a flame he's seen from time to time directed at him.

"Yoots wanted to impress you so bad when he was here. And yes, you might have been harsh when he was here, but you wasn't the full reason he went out on the group. He was eyeing the BBC for a while just as much as they were. He still asks about you."

"He-he does?"

Chuck's eyes soften, and so does his tone. He brings Trent closer to him. "Yeah. So does Danhausen, and Orange, and Kris. They all care about you just as much as I do. And I care a hell of a lot about you."

He knows they will have to talk a lot more after, but the way Trent hugged onto him tells him that for now, they got some kind of understanding.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

He's turned on the TV to replace the lights at some point, but honestly he doesn't remember when. Maybe when he finally threw the championship somewhere else in the room. Whatever. It could be in a ditch right now for all he cares. He wasn't even paying attention to whatever was on.

Orange hated crying. Everytime he did, his face got super red, he can't really breath properly for a while without it starting with a hitch, and his face became puffy. It takes him a long time to recover, everything becomes a trigger for him to start the cycle all over again, and he hated it.

But he's human, and crying out your feeling is something that happens when everything is just too much.

Including the banging rhythmic knocking that appeared out of nowhere.

On the other side, the Best Friends prepared themselves to greet. Chuck tossed a bag of chips at Trent, while Chuck had Orange's bag in his hand. They looked at each other in a silent agreement: this is it.

They heard the clicking of the lock, and they both lifted up their peace offerings to Orange, but Trent and Chuck's small smiles quickly faded when they took in their friends state. Bloodshot red eyes greeted them, along with a flushed face, chest, and dried tear tracks.

Alarmed and with a sudden urge to just comfort, Trent raised his arms up in a invitation for a hug, which made Orange's eyes widen a bit. But then his body almost slams into Trent's, his arms by his side but his face buried in Trent's neck.

By the time the trio entered the room, Trent could feel his hoodie becoming significantly damper. Orange was saying something, but it was buried into his neck, and was followed by sobs that made Trent's eyes start to burn. Chuck locked the door and starting putting the gifts up while Trent was just trying to sooth their best friend as best as he can, rubbing Orange's back and talking softly to him.

Orange knew he was going to be on a hair trigger, but he didn't know it was going to go off so soon. He was an absolute wreck of emotions that he wasn't used to letting loose this freely, but they were here. He feels Trent's rumbles, hear the repeated words of 'it's ok, we're right here, we got you', slowly letting the sobs turn into sniffles and slight hitches.

Eventually, he slowly lifted his face from Trent's neck, looking more towards the floor than his friend in front of him. He had to tell them, tell them both what he wanted. He heard Trent sigh, still rubbing his back which was calming him down more.

"Orange…" He knew what Trent was about to say, and he didn't want that. So he started shaking his head, and humming the words 'no' to the best of his ability. He finally looks up and sees Trent and Chuck's (who was on the other bed and was probably there the whole time) face of worry. He backs away from Trent, grabbing his other hand and leading him to where Chuck was. He sat on the left side of Chuck, and brought Trent next to him, becoming sandwiched between them.

The best friends brought each of their arm around Orange. Chuck spoke. "What's up, Orange?"

"I…I don't want this championship anymore." Chuck and Trent looked at each other, then looked back at Orange. "I feel different, I'm acting… different, and I don't like it." His voice wobbles a bit, but there's a rough tone underneath. "I got Danhausen hurt, I thought I lost this friendship and it's not…it's not worth it anymore."

This was new. Orange really felt indifferent for the title until a month ago, and that was when-

A lightbulb went off in Chuck's head. It couldn't be. "Hey Cass?"

Orange hum in question.

"When you started feeling like this?"

"About…a month ago. Why?"

"Didn't you also start beefing with Kip a month ago?"

Two more lightbulbs went off in the room. It feel like a collective epiphany, and once they reached it, they all groaned and fell back into the bed.

That….that would explain a lot. Kip Sabian was the master of mind games, with the only people possibly immuned to it being Moxley and Kingston. (A mixture of their minds being the most complicated and also they would probably pumble the shit out of Kip in one go.) Any opponent he had a long feud with has been subjected to this, so this should have been easily seen. But they weren't focused on Kip. They didn't really care. So Kip made them care.

Chuck lets out a breathless chuckle. "That box motherfucker."

Orange exhaled. And then he felt tears on his face yet again. Damn trigger happy tears.

Trent saw Orange crying again and started rubbing his arm.

This was gonna be a bump to get through, but they know it's gonna be fine in the end. Best Friends (all of them) will prevail.

(And yes, after Orange's body finally stopped crying, he asked for some orange juice, and to put the belt in his bag.)

[heimeldat]

I was sick and listened to the first 7 Time Travelers audios in 2 days with my system full of Nyquil so... bit of a blur. I know things don't get really interesting until the end, so I guess I haven't quite gotten to the good stuff yet. But anyway, overall reactions so far:

Republica: solid timey-wimey fun. I like it when time ends up healing itself. The scenario is just the right sort of ridiculous that Doctor Who thrives on, and the script feels like it would fit right into Big Finish. I know it's not technically DW but it felt like a satisfying (if unexceptional) Seven and Ace story.

Island of Lost Souls: another solidly standard DW plot, though this one feels like it should belong to Three more than Seven. Nothing much to say, not a remarkable story but well done across the board. These first two episodes feel like they weren't concerned with unique storytelling, just trying to showcase their ability to capture the feel of Doctor Who, and in that they succeeded. No instant classics, but good fun.

Prosperity Island: hard to go too far wrong with a Tempest adaptation. That did make it rather predictable of course, but the story didn't suffer for it, and they changed just enough toward the end that it still had some fresh beats. Starting to branch out a touch from the Classic Who formula, but still playing it safe with a tried and true plot: honestly that's a really smart way of easing into a new series aimed at an established audience. But again it makes for an unremarkable (though quite enjoyable) story.

Left Hand of Darkness: the first attempt at something a bit different! Not altogether original, still fairly predictable, but Ace and Dorsai played well off each other, and Ace had some really strong moments. It's also nice to see them leaning more into the audio medium with the use of blindness as a plot device. I do think the buildup was a little drawn out and the climax a little rushed (especially Dorsai's suicide) but overall a nice character piece, and it feels like the series is finding its feet. (A little disappointing that the Professor only got a bit part, since I'm mostly interested in seeing him and Ace together, but that has no bearing on the quality, just my preferences.)

The Other Side: another slightly more experimental story, nice. Again, I think they've chosen plot devices that work well with the audio medium, and again I'm sad to see less of the Professor but enjoyed seeing Ace shine in some solo character moments. Still, I wasn't as impressed with this one. We know Ace isn't really dead, so the buildup and her realization of the situation felt too dragged out; she got some good character beats but there was no real suspense for the audience. The resolution felt a bit crammed in by comparison. There was something a bit tonally odd too; I can't quite pin it down beyond saying this one felt like SJA instead of DW. Which isn't a bad thing, it just felt ever so slightly out of place.

Guests for the Night: this is the first one that really fell flat for me. It couldn't decide if it wanted to be Hammer Horror or Chimes of Midnight, so it got stuck awkwardly in between. The cheesy villains prevented the setting from feeling properly mysterious or creepy, and the resolution kind of came out of nowhere. It might have worked with more time to develop the plot and characters, but at only 1 hour it was a bit rushed and crammed full of story pieces that didn't quite mesh. Also not a fan of the "you murdered him! Oh well moving on" ending. Either commit to the moral quandary and really impact the characters, or let the villain's death be earned. It made for a rather unsatisfying ending.

Ghosts: All right, starting to diverge a bit from Doctor Who! Got the characters' names and a few hints about their background, that's a start. I enjoyed the complexity of this one, all the disparate characters and plot pieces that came together pretty tidily in the end. I was skeptical about the Professor getting mind-controlled so easily, especially since Madam Eternal wasn't a particularly impressive villain, but I guess he was the only one who knew he had missing memories, and he managed to fight the mind-control enough to build a failsafe into his machine, so I'll accept it. I would have liked to know why Samson mistook the Doctor for his target and how he almost-killed him, but I guess that's not a big deal. The production value seemed a little lower on this one, with a lot of awkward cuts between scenes and background noise almost drowning out dialogue, which was frustrating given how much I enjoyed this one; it feels like one I'd want to re-listen to, but the technical issues made it a little hard to get through at some points.

[nursc]

@prcspcr ( continued from here )

there was nowhere she could escape to. no mountain to lose herself in. on enterprise, the same walls greeted her every single morning, restrictive and dear like an old friend at the same time. try as she might to lose herself in this place, even repeating to anyone who would hear how she hated the sameness of the corridors, how impossible it was to figure out where she was, christine loved this place, knew it like the back of her hand. so when the emotions got the better of her, it was impossible for her to fall back into the old habit of losing herself. all she could do was take the coward's way out and hide.

it was childish. not the best look on her, really. running away from her problems didn't suit her; she was, in any other situation, fearless. a stubborn thing that never let a challenge keep her from getting what she wanted. but, but when her heart entered the equation, she was as skittish as a frightened rabbit, running away from her problems in a blur of white.

spock made her feel.... he made her feel. when she was around him, it was like every nerve ending on her body came alive — a scientific impossibility, but love struck fools, even scientists, can’t put together perfect metaphors.

christine was terrified of everything when it came to him. not him. never him, she could never be scared of him, knew him too well, too perceptive of others, to ever fear someone as gentle as spock. what she was, was terrified of herself, and for herself. what she might do to someone as good as him, she could eat him alive in one bite; he was a tempting, delicious man, she thought as he pulled her closer to him, and god help her, she did not protest, slender frame molding into his, hands reaching to rest over his chest, tips of fingers touching the warm skin peaking out from his collar. he was beautiful and the most clever man she ever met, and if he hurt her, she knew it would take ages for her to stitch together the pieces of her heart.

the possibilities terrified her, but losing him was scarier still.

the last few days had been torture. sneaking glances at him during meetings, disappearing into the background when she was off-shift, staying away from the object gravity ( okay, fine, her heart ) kept pulling her towards.

❛⠀⠀you do, ⠀ ❜ ⠀ she chides, gently, a soft twinge of humor slipping into her sad features. ⠀ ❛⠀⠀but... even if you didn't, which, again, you do, you deserve someone better.⠀ ❜⠀ someone who didn't find so hard to put her thoughts in order; who didn't hide for a week because she didn't know how to say: please stay, i don't want you to go, when he went back to his quarters after a date. someone who didn't feel scared about how much she cared for him.

his fleeting touch reminds her of every reason why she should stay away. and, most distressingly, why she can't.

❛⠀⠀you'll see. i'm going to fuck up so badly that... that you'll never be able to look at me again. ⠀ ❜