#I had so fucking many characters that started out with dark hearts that turned light

[nexus-nebulae]

love watching new media and knowing that if i had watched this as a teenager i would be the least normal person on the planet about it

[pin-k-ink]

the sequel // suna rintarou

tw ⇢ childhood friends to lovers, so much angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, yearning, happy ending

wc ⇢ 5k

a/n: i never cried so much while writing something

Suna felt like he was watching a movie. A sad, tragic fucking movie that he couldn't tear his eyes away from no matter how much it hurt to keep looking.

Frame by frame, moment by excruciating moment, he watched you - his best friend, the love of his life - fall in and out of love with someone else. Again.

If his life really was a movie...what role would he play? The sidekick? The comic relief? No, he decided with a bitter twist of his lips. He wasn't even important enough for that. He was just an extra. A background character that no one noticed or cared about.

Someone who faded into the scenery while the bright, beautiful protagonist - that was you, always you - took center stage and shone.

Suna had known you his entire life. His earliest memories all featured you, front and center, with him orbiting around you like a satellite, like a moth drawn to a flame.

You'd taken your first wobbling steps together, hands clasped and eyes wide with wonder. Babbled your first words to each other in a language only you two could understand. Gotten into mischief and skinned your knees and learned about the world side by side.

For as long as he could remember, you'd been his constant, his touchstone. His north star. The axis his whole world turned on. Life without you was unfathomable. Unthinkable.

But somehow, as the years scrolled by like frames on a reel...Suna started to feel like he was watching from a distance. Like there was an invisible wall between you, thin as glass but strong as steel, that he could never quite break through.

No matter how close you were, how many secrets you traded and inside jokes you laughed over and half-spoken conversations you could hold with just a glance...you always felt just a little bit out of reach. Like a mirage that would dissolve into mist if he tried to touch. Something too good to be true, too precious for the likes of him to grasp.

And how could he even think of reaching out, of trying to hold onto you the way he desperately wanted to? How could a mere background character ever hope to stand alongside the radiant lead, the brightest spot in every scene?

No, Suna was content to stay in the shadows. To watch and support and be there in whatever way you needed him, even as it killed him by inches. As long as he could keep you in his life, as long as he got to stay by your side...that would be enough. It had to be.

But god, it was getting harder. Harder to paste on a carefree smile and listen to you gush about your latest boyfriend. Harder to swallow the jealousy and longing clogging his throat when he watched you with stars in your eyes, so incandescently happy in someone else's arms.

Harder to bite his tongue against the confessions that always wanted to spill out, to choke back the pleas and promises and declarations his treacherous heart whispered in the dark.

"I love you," he wanted to say, every minute of every day. "I've always loved you. You're my forever, my reason, my home. Pick me. Choose me. See me. I swear I'll spend my life making you happy, if you'll just let me try."

But he never said it. Never took that leap of faith, too terrified of shattering the fragile status quo. Too scared of losing you entirely.

So he stayed quiet, stayed still, even as he felt like he was cracking apart inside. He watched you fall in love again and again, watched each bright-eyed boy promise you forever. Watched your smile dim and your shoulders droop when they inevitably let you down, broke your big, beating heart so carelessly.

It was a particular kind of agony, holding you while you cried over someone else. Seeing the light go out of your eyes, powerless to do anything but wipe away your tears and murmur empty platitudes. Every hitched sob was a barb in his skin, every sniffle a dagger to his ribs.

He wanted to shake you sometimes, wanted to scream "Why can't you see what's right in front of you? Why can't you see how much I love you? How I would never, ever hurt you the way they do?"

But he never did. Just folded you close and stroked your hair and let you dampen his shirt with your grief. Let you give him tiny glimpses of the mosaic of cracks in your chest before you pasted on a wobbly smile and soldiered on, determined not to let the world see you bleed.

Those cracks scared him. Scared him in a bone-deep way few things ever had. Because he lived in dread of the day they splintered apart entirely. The day your seemingly endless capacity for love and joy and trust finally ran dry, bled out by a thousand careless cuts.

He couldn't bear the thought of your light going out forever. Of those glorious eyes going flat and dull, that incandescent smile withering on the vine. You were the sun and he was just a planet in your orbit - he genuinely didn't know if he could survive without your warmth. Without you, everything would wither.

So he would endure. He would be your rock, your safe harbor, your shelter from every storm. Even if it killed him, even if he shattered to pieces in the process, he would hold you together.

Because a world without your laughter, without your brilliant, untamable spirit...that was no world at all. And maybe his love could be enough to keep you shining. Maybe if he believed hard enough, if he poured enough of his own flickering light into you...you would be okay.

And just maybe, someday...you would turn that supernova smile on him. Maybe you would finally, finally see him. Not as a background character, not as a sidekick...but as a man who loved you with every fiber of his being.

As someone who had been there all along, just waiting for you to look a little closer. To see the shape of his devotion, the staggering depth of his feelings written in every line of his face, his heart in his eyes and your name carved into his bones.

But until that impossible day, he would watch. He would wait. He would bide his time until the credits rolled and the movie ended...and just pray that there would be a sequel. One where he finally got to step out of the background and into the spotlight of your eyes.

Where you were his co-star, his partner, his love. Where you wrote a new story together, one frame at a time, and the only tears were happy ones.

It was a beautiful dream, fragile and gossamer and so painfully far out of reach. But it was all he had, so he clung to it in the hidden depths of his heart and kept watching the scenes play out.

Kept hoping that someday, if he was patient enough, if he loved you hard enough...the dream would become reality.

And you would finally, finally be his.

As the years scrolled by, Suna watched you grow and change, always from a step behind. He watched you navigate the perilous waters of adolescence, cheering you on as you blossomed into a beautiful, vibrant young woman. Watched you stumble and pick yourself back up, watched you learn and evolve and become more yourself with every passing day.

He was there for all of it, every milestone and heartbreak, every triumph and disappointment. When you got your first period and cried from embarrassment, he was the one who biked to the store for pads and chocolate, the one who held you and reassured you that it was all normal and okay.

When you got your heart broken for the first time at sixteen, he was the one who showed up at your window with ice cream and terrible movies, the one who let you sob into his chest and rail against the unfairness of it all.

When you got accepted into your dream college, he was the first person you called, screaming with joy down the line. He'd shut his eyes against the sting of tears, against the yawning ache in his chest at the thought of you leaving him behind...and told you how proud he was, how happy he was for you.

Always, always, he was your person. Your touchstone, your safe place. The one who knew you inside and out, backward and forward and every way in between. He was there in all the big moments...and all the little ones in between that made up a life.

Like the lazy summer afternoons spent lounging in the park, shoulders brushing as you read your respective books, content to just exist in the same space. The midnight walks under a canopy of stars, hands casually entwined, no words needed in the warm, honeyed dark.

The cups of coffee he'd bring you on drowsy mornings, made just the way you liked. The way you'd curl into his side during scary movies, face hidden trustingly in the curve of his neck, his arm a protective shield around you.

All those insignificant, in-between moments...they were everything to Suna. He hoarded them like a miser, turned them over and over in his mind like precious gems on nights when the ache in his chest got too big to breathe around.

Each one was a flicker of light, a tiny ember of hope that maybe, someday...you would see. You would understand just how much he loved you, how much he had always loved you. You would realize that he was right there, that he had been there all along, just waiting for you to really look at him.

But you never did. Your eyes always seemed to skim right over him, to look through him like he was made of glass, transparent and inconsequential. He was furniture to you, he sometimes thought despairingly. Part of the scenery of your life, always there but never really seen.

Never the one you wanted, the one you yearned for. He was the one you settled for, the one you came back to when the newest bright-eyed boy let you down. The one you cried on, the one you leaned on...but never the one you loved. At least, not the way he wanted you to.

God, how he wished you would love him. It was a physical ache, a bone-deep longing that never went away no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. He felt hollowed out with it, scraped raw and empty.

Late at night, he let himself imagine it. Let himself paint a picture of a world where you wanted him back, where you looked at him with even a fraction of the desperate, clawing need he felt for you.

In his weakest moments, he let himself believe it could be real. That someday, you would wake up and realize that he was everything you'd ever wanted, that he could make you happy in a way no one else ever could.

That you would take his face in your hands, eyes wide and wondering like you were seeing him for the first time. That you would breathe his name like a prayer, like a revelation, and kiss him with a tenderness that set his soul alight.

That you would tell him you loved him, that you were sorry for taking so long to understand, but you wanted to make up for lost time. That you wanted to be his, wholly and completely, for the rest of your lives.

It was a beautiful dream, fragile and perfect as a soap bubble. But like a bubble, it always burst, leaving him blinking away stinging tears and feeling like a fool.

Because this wasn't a movie, no matter how much it felt like one sometimes. There was no guarantee of a happy ending, no artful resolution scripted in the stars.

In the real world, the guy pining in the background didn't always get the girl. Sometimes he just stayed in the background forever, watching her life happen without him, until the credits rolled and the lights came up on his lonely little corner of the world.

But oh, how he wanted to believe. He would never be the leading man, he knew that. He was too quiet, too steady, too content to let you shine while he basked in your reflected glow. You needed someone as brilliant and dazzling as you, someone who could match you spark for spark and set the world on fire.

Someone braver than him. Someone who would risk it all for a chance at your heart, instead of staying safe and silent on the sidelines.

He wasn't that guy. He never would be. But a tiny, desperate part of him still held out hope that maybe, someday...he could be enough for you, just as he was. That even if he wasn't the star of the show, he could still be an integral part of your story.

The one who was always there to catch you when you stumbled, to hold you up when you couldn't stand on your own. The one who knew your secrets and your scars, your hopes and your fears. The one who loved every messy, imperfect, beautiful inch of you, unconditionally and irrevocably.

Maybe he could be your co-star, your partner in crime and love and life. Maybe you could write a new story together, one where the quiet, steadfast best friend got his chance to step into the light and be seen, really seen, by the only eyes that had ever mattered.

It was a slim hope, gossamer-thin and liable to tear at the slightest touch. But it was all Suna had, so he held it close and carried it with him, a tiny flicker of light in the dark.

And he kept watching, kept waiting. Kept loving you with everything he had, even as it wore him down to the bone. He would play his role in your movie, would be whatever you needed him to be...until the day came when he could finally step out from the background and into your arms.

Until the day when "I love you" wasn't just a secret whispered in the dark, but a vow made in the light of your smile, your hands in his and your heart beating against his chest.

Until the day when the movie of his life finally got its happy ending...and you were right there beside him, radiant and real, as the screen faded to black and the credits rolled on a love story for the ages.

He just had to hold on until then. Just had to keep believing, keep loving, keep watching.

Because in the end, he knew it would all be worth it. You would always be worth it.

Even if it took a lifetime, even if it killed him...he would wait for you.

Always.

As the years went by and you both grew older, Suna watched you evolve and change in a thousand tiny ways. He watched you graduate college, watched you land your dream job and move into your first adult apartment. Watched you navigate the ups and downs of adult life with the same resilient grace he'd always admired, always loved.

Through it all, he was there. Your constant, your touchstone. The one you called when you got a promotion, voice bubbling with excitement. The one you leaned on when your grandma died, eyes swollen and voice thick with grief.

He was the one who helped you move, lugging boxes up endless flights of stairs and quietly assembling IKEA furniture while you flitted around like a hummingbird, arranging and rearranging. The one who showed up at your door with soup and medicine when you got the flu, who sat with you and watched terrible reality TV until you fell asleep on his shoulder.

He was woven into every part of your life, as essential and invisible as air. Always there, always just a phone call or a text away. Your best friend, your rock, your safe harbor in every storm.

But still, even as you grew closer than ever...there was a distance there. A wall that Suna could never quite breach, no matter how hard he tried. Because no matter how much of your life you shared with him, no matter how many secrets you whispered into the dark...there was always a part of you that held back.

A part that you kept locked away, hidden behind bright smiles and breezy deflections. The part that held your heart, your deepest hopes and dreams and fears. The part that Suna longed to know, to understand...but that you never quite let him see.

It hurt, that distance. It ate at him like acid, slow and corrosive. Because he wanted all of you, every messy, complicated, beautiful part. He wanted to crack you open and crawl inside, to burrow into the hidden depths of your soul and make a home there.

He wanted to be the one you turned to with your whole heart, the one you trusted with your most vulnerable self. He wanted to be your person in every sense of the word, not just the one you leaned on but the one you loved, the one you chose.

But you never did. No matter how much he longed for it, no matter how many nights he spent staring at the ceiling and wishing...you never saw him as anything more than a friend. A best friend, sure, but still just...a friend.

And god, it was getting harder to bear. Harder to swallow back the words that always wanted to spill out, the confessions and pleas and promises. Harder to bite his tongue and smile when you gushed about your latest boyfriend, to offer a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on when they inevitably let you down.

He felt like he was drowning, sometimes. Like he was being slowly crushed under the weight of all the unspoken things, all the pent-up love and longing and desperation. He felt like he was fading away, bit by bit, worn thin by the constant effort of holding himself together, of keeping his heart locked away behind a friendly smile and an easy laugh.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could do it. Wasn't sure how much more he could take before he shattered completely, before he just...broke.

But what choice did he have? He couldn't lose you. Couldn't bear the thought of a life without you in it, even if being near you was slowly killing him. You were oxygen to him, necessary and vital. Cutting you out would be like cutting out his own heart.

So he endured. He swallowed the hurt and the jealousy and the desperate, clawing need, and he was there. Always, always there, waiting in the wings. Waiting for you to see him, to really see him.

Waiting for his chance to step out of the background and into the light of your love.

It was getting harder to hold onto hope, some days. Harder to believe that there would ever be a right time, a perfect moment. That he would ever find the courage to lay his heart at your feet and beg you to take it, to cherish it the way he'd always cherished you.

But he had to believe. It was all he had, this fragile flicker of faith. The tiniest spark of possibility, glowing in the dark.

So he fanned it carefully, tended it like the precious thing it was. He held it close on the nights when the loneliness got too much to bear, when the ache in his chest made it hard to breathe. Whispered it to himself like a mantra, a prayer:

Someday. Someday. Someday.

Someday, you would see. Someday, you would understand. Someday, he would be brave enough, strong enough, to reach out and grasp the future he wanted so desperately.

Someday, your movie would reach its climax. The music would swell, the camera would pan in...and he would finally, finally step into his destiny. Into the starring role he'd always been meant to play, the one he'd been rehearsing for his whole life.

He would take your hands in his, look into your eyes...and he would say it. The words that had been living in his throat for years, the ones that beat against his ribs like caged birds, desperate for freedom.

"I love you," he would say, simple and honest and achingly true. "I've always loved you. And I know I'm not the kind of guy you usually go for, I know I'm not exciting or flashy or whatever, but...I'm here. I've always been here. And I always will be, if you'll let me. Because you're it for me. You're everything."

And maybe, just maybe...you would hear him. Really hear him, the way you never had before. Maybe you would look at him with new eyes, with dawning realization and wonder and joy.

Maybe you would see all the love he'd been holding back, see the shape of his devotion in every line of his face. Maybe you would understand that he was your person, your forever...just like you were his.

"Oh," you would breathe, soft and reverent. "Oh, Suna. I...I never knew. I never saw..."

"I know," he would whisper, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. "I know, baby. But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again."

And then...then you would kiss him. Soft and sweet and filled with promise, filled with all the love he'd always dreamed of. You would wind your arms around his neck and press close, and he would hold you like he'd always longed to, like you were the most precious thing in the universe.

Because you were. God, you were. And finally, finally...you were his.

His best friend. His soulmate. His happy ending, the one he'd always been chasing.

The credits would roll, the music would fade out...and a new story would begin.

The evening had started like countless others - just you and Suna, a few too many drinks, and a forgotten movie playing in the background as you laughed and joked and reminisced. It was comfortable, familiar, the kind of easy intimacy born from a lifetime of friendship.

But as the night wore on and the alcohol flowed, Suna found himself growing quiet, a melancholy settling over him like a fog. He watched you through increasingly blurry eyes, taking in the way the soft light played over your features, the way your laughter seemed to fill the room, bright and effervescent.

God, you were so beautiful. So vibrant, so full of life and joy and everything good in the world. And he loved you so much it hurt, a physical ache in his chest that never went away, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

"You know what's really pathetic?" he found himself saying, the words slipping out before he could bite them back.

You turned to him, head cocked, a curious smile playing about your lips. "What's that?"

Suna swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, toes curling over the precipice. He knew he should step back, laugh it off, change the subject. But the alcohol had loosened his tongue, lowered his inhibitions, and suddenly...suddenly he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Me," he said, voice rough and scratchy with emotion. "I'm pathetic. Because I've been in love with you for so fucking long, and I've never had the balls to tell you."

Your eyes went wide, lips parting in shock, but Suna barreled on, the words pouring out of him like water from a burst dam.

"I've loved you since we were kids," he said, staring down at his hands, vision blurring with unshed tears. "Since the day you punched that kid for making fun of my haircut in third grade. Since the summer we were twelve and you broke your arm falling out of that tree, and you held my hand the whole way to the hospital even though you were the one in pain."

A smile flickered across his face, small and fond and aching. "I loved you when we were sixteen and you got your heart broken for the first time, and you cried on my shoulder for hours. I loved you when you accidentally burnt toast because you were singing in the kitchen. I loved you when we graduated high school, and you looked so beautiful in your cap and gown that it took my breath away."

He risked a glance up at you, finding you staring at him with a stricken expression, tears tracking silently down your cheeks. "I loved you through every boyfriend, every breakup, every lame movie night and inside joke and 2 AM phone call. I loved you on your best days and your worst days and every day in between."

Suna's voice broke then, a sob catching in his throat. "I love you now," he whispered, raw and ragged. "I love you so much it's like a physical thing, like a part of me. Like I can't breathe right when you're not around, can't think straight when you're near. You're in my veins, in my bones, in every beat of my fucking heart, and I...I can't keep pretending anymore."

The tears were flowing freely now, hot and fast down his face, but he made no move to wipe them away. "I know I'm not...I know I'm not what you want," he choked out, chest heaving with the force of his emotions. "I know I'm just your best friend, just the guy you call when you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to laugh with. But god, I want to be more. I want to be everything to you, the way you are to me."

He reached out with shaking hands, cupping your face, thumbs swiping at the tears painting your cheeks. "I love you," he breathed, pouring every ounce of longing, every shred of desperate devotion into the words. "I am so fucking in love with you, it's like...it's like I don't know how to be anything else. And I just...I needed you to know. Even if it ruins everything, even if you don't feel the same...I couldn't keep it in anymore. I couldn't keep lying to you, to myself."

Suna closed his eyes then, unable to bear the sight of your face, the pity or gentle rejection he knew must be written there. He felt flayed open, raw and exposed, heart lying shattered at your feet.

But then...then he felt your hands on his, warm and steady. Felt you lean in, forehead pressing against his own, the salt of your tears mingling with his.

"Suna, you idiot," you whispered, and he flinched, bracing for the blow. But your voice was soft, achingly tender, suffused with a warmth that made his eyes fly open in shock. "How could you not know? How could you not see that I...that I love you too? That I've always loved you, from the minute we met?"

He stared at you, hardly daring to breathe, to hope. But you were smiling through your tears, eyes shining with a light he'd never seen before. "You're not just my best friend," you said, hands sliding into his hair, cradling him like he was something precious. "You're my soulmate, my other half. The one person who knows me better than anyone, who's always been there, always loved me, even at my worst."

You pressed your lips to his forehead, his cheeks, the corners of his trembling mouth. "I love you, Suna Rintarou," you murmured against his skin, each word a benediction. "I'm in love with you. And if you want me...I'm yours. Forever."

A broken sob tore from Suna's throat, disbelief and joy and overwhelming relief crashing over him in a tidal wave. He surged forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was messy and desperate and perfect, pouring every ounce of love, every year of longing into the press of his mouth on yours.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, hands fisting in his shirt, holding him close like you never wanted to let go. And god, he never wanted you to. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, wrapped up in you, in the love he'd craved for so long, the love he'd never dared to hope could be his.

When you finally broke apart, breathing hard, Suna couldn't stop touching you - hands skimming over your face, your hair, your shoulders, like he needed to convince himself this was real. That you were real, that this was happening.

"I love you," he rasped, resting his forehead against yours. "God, I love you so much."

You smiled, radiant and blinding, and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I love you too," you whispered. "Always have, always will."

And as Suna gathered you into his arms, as he buried his face in your hair and breathed you in...he felt something slot into place in his chest. A piece he hadn't even known was missing, a hole he'd carried for so long, suddenly filled by your love, your presence, your promise of forever.

From those early days when you first stumbled into each other's orbits, he'd watched your lives play out together like adjacent movies running on parallel screens. Two stories inching closer with each passing year, edging tantalizingly near but never quite converging into one. He was the yearning protagonist, you the luminous star burning bright just out of reach.

But now, in this transcendent moment, the projectors had merged. The credits were rolling on that old, achingly familiar film that had been his constant lonesome companion. And when the lights came up, when the screen flickered to brilliant new life...it was a sequel. Your sequel together at last, 3D and eye-searing in its vividness.

No longer was he resigned to loving you from afar, playing the supporting role in your story. Now you were his co-star, his perfectly matched lead - twin suns burning brilliantly side-by-side in their own cosmic romance.

This was just the beginning. Your beginning, the sequel he'd waited his entire existence to see... and it was more extraordinary than anything he could have ever imagined.

[magnificentstrawberryomen]

friday night, movie night (matt dierkes x reader one shot)

authors note: so even though i am working on finishing writing chapters of my other stories this just flew out of my fingers in between whilst listening to music lol 🫣🫠 so i just had to post this heheh. hope u enjoy this short one shot! (:

.......

the evening started with a comfortable silence between us. my head is leaning against matt's shoulders and we both watch one of our favorite movies, enjoying each other's company as our eyes take in the big tv screen in front of us, with the film's animated movements and words we can both dream by now.

now and then a giggle or chuckle escapes our lips at funny sentences and scenarios, the warm sounds making this moment just as special as every friday movie night we spend together. we have been doing this for two years now, ever since we became best friends. it's something that has brought us closer, discovering humor, similar interests and character traits from each other.

but there has always been tickling something underneath it all. something that has grown thick in the air between us since a couple of months. something shifted-something has changed about the way we look at each other. the way we need each other.

i feel matt's body move against me as he laughs about something funny, making my eyes look up at him as i take in his joyful brown eyes and the grin on his lips. i must have been staring for a little too long, because matt's eyes then shift from the bright screen lighting up the dark living room around us to my eyes, taking every detail of his face as his eyes get their usual laughing wrinkles around them, the once i have grown to love so much.

an amused smile now tugs at his lips as he looks at me. 'y/n, this movie is funny as fuck. why are you looking at me?'

i swallow at his words, as a low chuckle escapes my lips, feeling my pulse quickening underneath my skin as his stare grows way too intense for my heart to handle. 'i have seen it so many times already. i just rather look at you now instead.'

matt's eyebrows raise at that, his smile growing bigger now as a slight glint of playfulness comes to life in his eyes as well. 'is that so? you're saying that one of our favorite movies of all time is not that interesting anymore all of a sudden, hm?'

i shift on the couch, moving my head from his broad shoulder so i can look at him better. the smile on my lips mirrors the emotions that he holds in his glance, and i nod. 'guess so, yeah.'

the corner of his mouth tugs up even more by hearing those words, narrowing his eyes a little as he takes in my expression for a moment. 'you want me to turn the movie off?'

my heart flutters out of excitement and nerves, the tension now growing thicker in the air, more than it ever has, as we both seem to agree that we want to break the already crooked line between friendship and something more now. we definitely crave much more than just a friendly bubbly night, and at the way matt leans forward to grab the remote and turn the tv off in a quick movement, i just know that this will be our best friday movie night so far.

[starry-bi-sky]

thomas wayne au excerpts - things that could've been part of a grander fic except there's no grander fic

thomas wayne au - an au i made last year where danny is literally just. thomas wayne. his full name was Daniel Thomas Fenton and he started going by Thomas Nightingale after he was disowned. because of course. here is a link to the first post if anyone wants to see a more in depth view of the au (its also the start of me using the ‘danny fenton is not the ghost king’ au lmao

additional info: bruce is the result of a failed cloning attempt from vlad - vlad used a combination of danny's dna and an unnamed girl (Martha's) to make him to try and balance out the ectoplasm use. this resulted in a slightly liminal but otherwise completely human and stable baby boy. Bruce is, by all accounts, Danny's biological son. Danny named him Bruce

Danny was 24 when he died, he took in Bruce when he was 16. He is, so far, a single father in this au. (But if I WERE to add martha she wouldn't be sam or a DP character but rather a separate character on her own.)

Essentially they would go as:

Martha, 19: water does terrifying things to corpses

Danny, 19, half ghost: *heart eyes* really? tell me more they're morticia and gomez your honor

---- Like starlight -----

Bruce's father could light up a room. He was like a sun, his gravitational field could just pull you in, and before you knew it you'd be orbiting around him like one of his many planets.

He's seen it in action before, in the rare moments Thomas Wayne would allow him to accompany him to the socialite events he went to; the fundraisers; the charities. Bruce, as tall as his father's waist, would cling to his leg and watch as people drifted towards him and his star-blinding smile.

It's fitting that his father's favorite thing in the world were stars, he fit right in with them.

As an adult, Bruce has tried copious amount of times to mimic him. To try and capture a fraction of that light, that charm, in his own act - but here's the thing. Thomas Wayne wasn't made of starlight only in front of the cameras, he was made of starlight outside of it as well.

(So when older socialites laugh and tell him he's so much like his father, Bruce just thinks they are liars. They've only ever seen the Thomas Wayne his father showed them, Bruce is nothing like his father.)

In the manor, whatever room he stepped into seemed to brighten, and maybe it was just Bruce's own child-memory fuzzing it to raise his father onto a pedestal, but he stands by it. His father was a solar system, his very own galaxy. Bruce was just the lucky planet that was close enough to orbit him.

--------- arrival time ------

Ancients, ancients, what the fuck convinced Danny to ever go to Gotham of all places? Crime Capitol of the world? He's not sure, but he's been wandering around the country for the last few months, swapping between flying late at night as Phantom, and taking the busses and trains when he had the money, and was too exhausted to fly.

And of course, what convinced him to come here with his kid no less, who was just at the cusp of turning a year old? Whose curiosity of the world was growing greater by the day? Who wanted to look around and explore, and was growing tired of being held at all hours of the day by his father.

But he was going to be held, at least for as long as they were in Gotham for. He didn't trust the stuff on the sidewalks, and he didn't trust the people walking on it. Bruce was tiny, and Danny would lose his mind if he lost him in a crowd.

In his arms, Bruce whined and wriggled, pushing at his shoulders in the signature way he did when he wanted to be let down. Danny tightened his hold, and adjusted his place on his hip.

"I know, bumblebee." Danny muttered, resting his chin on Bruce's small head. His hair was still thin, but it was dark and soft, and tickled his throat a little. "But not yet, I need to find somewhere for us to stay first."

He needed to find somewhere for them to stay, permanently. He couldn't keep living like this, and he couldn't let Bruce grow up like this either. Constantly moving, homeless, unsure of when he was going to eat next? It wasn't good for him. But he needed to find a city he liked, and after that? He wasn't sure. Where did he start?

But Bruce doesn't like his answer, he whines at him, louder, and his wriggling increases. He wants down, he wants to move. They were in a new place again, he wanted to explore. He's too little to fully understand what his dad's saying. "Dada." He said, his voice thick with the accent of a child first learning to speak.

"I know," Danny repeats, stressing the word as his eyes flitted about. There was a park nearby -- maybe he and Bruce could stop there for a bit. Bruce could move around, and Danny could figure out his next move.

It was getting dark, he didn't want to be out in Gotham when it was dark. Shuffling, he moved the inside of his jacket to wrap around Bruce better. It was getting cold, too. Last winter with Bruce had been hellish - Bruce's liminality meant that Danny's immunity to the cold hadn't been passed down to him. Danny had spent all winter terrified that Bruce was going to get sick and die. He didn't want to go through that stress again, especially now that Bruce would be moving.

He hoped they could find new living arrangements soon.

---- dniwer eht klolc - clockwork's conversation ---

Laughing quietly as Bruce ran out of the room, Danny turned his attention back to the mirror, his fingers curled around the knot of his tie. They'd been planning this outing for weeks since the movie was first announced, and Danny wasn't going to let anything ruin tonight.

Humming under his breath, his hands fell from his tie and he steps back. They were leaving in half an hour, at best, but experience from the last six years has taught Danny that he wants to be ready before then.

In his reflection, the clock behind him stops ticking, and a wave of nothing washes over him, a subtle shift he's gotten used to that was the sensation of time stopping. Ticking, soft and coming from all four sides of the room, filled his ears.

Danny's smile drops. And behind him, Clockwork swirled into existence like a blackhole reversing its pull. "Don't go out tonight, Thomas." He says, his voice stern.

That wasn't happening.

He reaches up to push back a loose strand of hair out of his face. "Does something happen to Bruce, Clockwork?" He asks, his voice deceptively calm. That would be the only reason he would postpone tonight. If it endangered Bruce, then he would just have to break the news to him that they'd have to go tomorrow.

In the reflection, Clockwork's lips thinned, pressing together tersely. He looked tense, the grip on his staff was tight, tighter than Danny's seen it before in recent years. And it worried him a little.

Clockwork is silent for a few seconds, hesitant, before he finally speaks. "No, Bruce will be fine." He says, and uncharacteristic of him, he shuffles, "But--"

Ah, good then. Danny's smile returns briefly across his face. Then it could be something Danny can handle. "But nothing then, Clockwork." He says, interrupting the Ancient firmly. He leans back slightly to look over himself again in the mirror, before going to undo his tie. He's changed his mind about it.

"Boo has been looking forward to our movie all week, I'm not crushing his hopes by changing my mind last minute." In just a few seconds the tie was off his neck and tossed onto bed behind him. And Danny was reaching over the dresser beside him to grab a pearl necklace, he normally didn't wear it, it belonged to Mrs. Wayne and he inherited it after she and Mr. Wayne passed away last year. It wouldn't hurt to wear it for a special occasion like this.

Clockwork's lips tightened, and his shoulders tensed up. "Thomas," He says lowly, "Please."

...Clockwork never said please. Danny's never heard him say please in the last ten years he's known him. This... must have been pretty serious -- but, his core tugged at him. He couldn't cancel without finding the reason why. Bruce was so important to him, Danny couldn't break his heart with this without learning why. He wouldn't allow it, and neither would his core.

He hooks the necklace around his neck and turns to face Clockwork, frowning deeply. "Does something happen tonight?" If he knew the reason -- he just needed to know the reason.

Clockwork stares at him, and something that Danny can't catch appears across his face. "...I cannot tell you." He says after a long moment, his voice quiet.

That... is not the answer Danny wants. He won't cancel.

He frowns. "If something happens tonight..." He says slowly -- Clockwork said that Bruce is unharmed. That must mean Danny was able to handle it. He allows himself to smile reassuringly, and he steps forward to clap a hand on Clockwork's shoulder. "Then I will handle it, alright? I promise."

He gets no response back. Clockwork's expression unreadable as he nods silently - Danny's anxiety curls in his gut. He's being so unlike himself. But he shakes Clockwork's shoulder gently and steps around him, leaving the room.

After a minute, he feels time return to normal.

[breathe-101]

The long drive home!

Characters: Jacob Scipio and writer.

Dear diary,


Hehehe, look at you and your nosy self.

There's some PG18 stuff I need to share.

As you were!


Sooooo, I’ve been dating Jacob for about six months now.

It was my idea to keep it private of course.

Honestly, after loving him from a distance for so long, I just wanted to give it a chance.

You know better than anyone that he's my first boyfriend.

It's exciting but I can't really say I'm not scared.

Just a little. Okay, maybe a lot.

Oh my days what the fork am I saying!


Anyway, having flown in this morning he insisted on picking me up after work.

I didn’t want him to cause man needed sleep.

The press tour was long and to expect anything from him now was just ridiculous.

We settled on spending the weekend together.

It’s been a hectic week and sleep was all I wanted really.

I don’t think coffee is the answer anymore, might just give myself heart failure at this rate.
 
Oooo and before we move on with the story, I actually said goodbye to my colleagues before leaving the office today.

Talk about progress.

Still don't really like them though.

Anyways, back to the story.


Jacobs black Jaguar pulled up out front.

Sprinting to the car, my first thought was to get the fuck out of there before my colleagues

had something to write about in the group chat.

Forget the butterflies of excitement welling up in my tummy, those villians gossip like fish wives.


Jumping in, there he was, you know.

After weeks of FaceTiming he was actually here.

‘Hi’ I whispered. It was all I could manage in that moment.

No judgement please!


Jacobs hair had grown longer.

Dark curls bouncing effortlessly as he moved his head, looking at me then the road again.

I hadn't even realised we’d started moving.

He had one hand on the wheel and the other now resting comfortably on my thigh giving it a slight squeeze.

You know that grip.

The one that makes you all giddy. Ahhhhh!!!


Okay, so. My eyes made their way down his face, his skin looked good.

Clear and somehow giving off a glow.

He didn’t have any makeup on having had the morning off.

I liked his bare face.

His almond eyes looked more defined against his now darker completion.

Guess the Florida sun agrees with him cause even his lashes looked longer.
The car came to a sudden stop.

Red light.

Lips parting slowly, his face turned towards me and he finally whispered,

‘Hi'. You knowwww, the way guys do when they want you to lean in closer cause you can't hear what they're saying.

Hmmmmm, I see you Jacob!


I watched him unable to speak.

I had so many things I wanted to tell him about

and so many questions to ask but, nothing.

I just happily stared at the amused expression on his face.

His scent filled my nose as he placed his hand on my cheek, outlining my brow then gliding down to rest on my neck.

‘I missed you' he whispered again.

Aaaahhhhh! (Hand on the chest level of excitement)


I followed his inspecting eyes as they made their way up my body.

Starting with my stocking covered legs, then a glance at my full thighs.

Eyes stopping at my chest, Jacob slowly released a deep breath then quickly looked me in the eye.

I could feel him moving closer, fingers caressing the short hair on the back of my neck.

Beeeeeeep!

His gaze sharply turned back to the road as the honking snapped us out of the moment.

Seriously!


It was a long drive to my apartment.

I'd just started a new job and hadn't found a closer place yet.

Note to self, get that sorted ASAP.

He'd packed a bag for the weekend and had several paper bags I didn't recognise.

I wanted to ask but exhaustion got the better of me.

We drove in silence.

Both of us reluctant to disturb the heavy tension in the air.

We'd said a few words about our weekend plans then continued an amusing dance of stealing glances at each other. 
This was all new to me. I'd never really liked someone this much.

I just wanted to touch him.

Feel the weight of his legs wrapped around me and rest my head on his chiseled chest.

He'd been working out.

I could tell. Jacobs arms had grown bigger more defined.

The dark T-shirt hugged his bicep as he loosely held the wheel.

I could see the outline of his abs under the fitted shirt.

His waist looked smaller against his broad shoulders.

His legs had grown bigger, leaner.

Jacob was holding my hand now, squeezing it lightly, stroking my finger with his thumb.

Keep it together girl!


We made a quick stop to get some snacks for the road then continued home.

The heavy atmosphere and smooth car ride made me drowsy.

I wanted to look at him longer but my eyes were fighting a losing battle.

I'd forgotten just how cute he was when he was happy.

Jacobs face broke into a mischievous smile, amused by the drowsy look on my face.


'I thought you were excited to see me. How dare you fall asleep.' He chuckled,

admiring my blushing face unaware of the Pervy thoughts flying around in there.

I let out a lazy laugh, pulling his warm hand closer to my chest.


Jacob moved his hand down to my legs, slowly caressing my inner thigh.

I looked up at him, eyes half closed.

The sky had grown dark, low lights hitting his face, outlining his now fuller beard.

He looked good, really good.

Jacobs hand slowly made its way further between my legs, strong fingers sliding their way against my tight stockings.

I shifted, slightly parting them in response.

Feeling a strong tug, they ripped making way for his fingers.

Hand lightly tracing the ladder paving its way down my inner thigh, his grip on the wheel tightened.


The car stopped.

Red light.

Taking advantage of the short pause, he leaned over, his face right up against mine.

Moving even closer, breathing heavily, I anticipated the feel of his warm, full lips... but he stopped. Such a tease!

His warm breath now flowed into my slightly parted lips.

I was struggling to keep my eyes open but I craved him.

I craved the mouth I hadn't felt for three weeks.

I wanted to bite his plump lip, feel him wince against me then aggressively come back for more.

Invading my mouth, not knowing where his saliva started and mine ended.

Licking the blood off his lip wanting more of him on my tongue.

Girrrrl who are you!

Holding my gaze, he slowly lowered my car seat then turned to face the road.

‘Rest.' He demanded.

The car started moving again.

‘You fiend' I muttered under my breath.


I could feel my body fully relax into the seat as sleep came over me.

But his hand started moving again this time moving closer .

Hhhmmmm This man will be the death of me, I swear.

I'd like to sleep now ,Sir. If you don't mind.'

He let out a deep chuckle, pinching my thigh in the process.

I jumped surprised by the sudden attack.

I smacked his hand and he chuckled again. 'Such a tease' I muttered accusingly.


The hand crept even closer caressing back and forth,

reaching its goal then moving away again.

The frustration from exhaustion and this slow seduction had my body screaming.

Eyes closed I grabbed his hand and slowly guided it up to where we both wanted it.

Parting my legs further, I arched my back, moving my hips higher up the seat to give him a better view.

‘I’d like to drive if you don't mind' his deep voice tugging at my stomach.

I chuckled leaning my head back giving him a good view of my now exposed throat.

‘You can have your hand back if you need it. You seem to be doing just fine with one'.

‘Hmmm' he reluctantly moaned in agreement.


The car stopped, another red light.

Sitting up, I moved closer to him.

Squeezing his hand tighter between my thighs.

I stared into his eyes, reflecting the GPS light. Moving his other hand off the wheel,

I placed it firmly around my throat, squeezing slightly.

We stared at each other desire hanging heavy in the small space.

Eyes barely open I parted my lips, releasing a slow breath, coated with the smell of Maltesers, his favourite.

My hot breath hit his lips then moved down to his throat.

I swallowed.

Making sure his hand felt every inch of the movement before moving it slowly down to my erect nipple.

Orange light.

Peeling his hand off my breast, I returned it to the wheel.

Moving away, I settled back into my seat, fully closing my eyes.

Green light.

‘You should drive Mr Scipio. Don't want to hold up traffic now do we?’

Running his fingers through his hair, eyes fixated on my charged body, Jacob slowly accelerated.

‘You f*cking tease' he breathed, pinching my thigh again as he turned to face the road.

PS: I’ll tell you the rest later xx

[ilovespec]

Even a rotten heart can love..

| Yandere FEM ! Drug lord × FEM ! civilian reader. | part 1

WARNINGS !!!!! : mention of death, corpse, settled corpse, non-con touching, Kristina Zmeeva (she is already red flag lol), drugs, use of death from drug overdose, yandere is a FUCKING DRUG LORD, yandere and y/n are female, all my characters similarities with real people are random, grammatical errors are possible.

1228 words

Her description

The ??? city . Autumn.

You walk home from work with your face buried in your phone. You're texting with your friend. You looked up for a moment, choosing which way to go... There are 2 ways. The first one is shorter, but it goes through a dark alley. And the second one is longer. But he's walking down a lighted street. And you chose to take the short cut. That's why you walked briskly to the alley to get home as soon as possible. After a couple of seconds, you're already walking quickly down this alley, you put your phone in your pocket just in case and listen to the footsteps. And after a couple of minutes , here you are , almost coming out of the alley ! But suddenly you feel like you're being grabbed by the scruff of the neck...!! You're in a state of shock, you don't know what to do, and some kind of rag is pressed to your face. And as soon as you tried to breathe in, everything started to darken and blur..

且_(ﾟ◇ﾟ；)ノﾞ

You opened your eyes... your head hurt like hell ! You tried to shake your arms or legs... But they were tied up so tightly that you just can't feel them... You scream, but your mouth is gagged. You look around the room you are in... This is some kind of basement. It smells damp and ... A sickeningly strong smell of metal ....? You look down nervously and see what's lying on the floor... The corpse....!! It's a man.. And his stomach was ripped open, and his face was disfigured as if he had just been bitten by some wild animal....and because of this "look" you fainted.

且_(ﾟ◇ﾟ；)ノﾞ

You woke up because someone LICKED YOUR CHEEK !!! You opened your eyes in shock, and saw a girl by your face... Blindfolded .. She has black hair , pale skin , and 2 large scars peeking out from under the bandage , and she joyfully exclaims sadistically

- ??? - Gaetana ! Gaetana !!! Look how cute she is! ~ No wonder I took her in that alley.. ~

The one she is addressing is a woman of about 30 years old. Does she have short black hair, red..??? Eyes and tanned skin....She sighs and looks dejectedly at this strange and creepy girl.

- Gaetana : Kristina. Go away from this poor lady. Do you see how you scare her?!

Gaetana approaches Kristina , and ... Grabbing her by the leg and lifting her up (which clearly does not like Kristina), she turns to you.

- Gaetana : young lady . I'll call the boss now, and she'll decide your fate. Whether you live or not..

And then they leave.

且_(ﾟ◇ﾟ；)ノﾞ

Through ... You don't know how many minutes. You've lost track of time. The basement door opened again. And Gaetana and Kristina entered it again.

- Gaetana : young lady. The boss is coming now.

While Gaetana was talking, Kristina came up to you (violating your personal space for the second time) and hovered over you... she started unbuttoning your shirt!!! You started screaming into the gag again (about 20 times already this day). But Kristina stopped abruptly as her head was squeezed by someone's HUGE hand in white glove...

且_(ﾟ◇ﾟ；)ノﾞ

She was a huge woman.. About 2 meters tall . She has black , graying hair , dark green eyes , broad shoulders , prominent cheekbones , small wrinkles and muscles visible against the background of clothes ... She is wearing a dark red shirt, a black coat with white stripes , black trousers with a leather belt, black classic shoes and white gloves.

且_(ﾟ◇ﾟ；)ノﾞ

-Unknown woman: Kristina Zmeeva. Get away from this süsse kleine maus quickly.

Her voice is deep.. With a strong German accent. And even with the naked eye, it is noticeable that Kristina began to tremble. Just like you... AFTER ALL, EVERYONE IN THIS FUCKING ROOM IS DAMN SCARY. And Kristina obeyed and walked away from you. And in turn, this creepy tall woman came up to you, knelt down on one knee and... buttoned your shirt. And then she tried to make a kind smile and spoke.

- Unknown woman : Don 't worry mein süßer Kitz . They won't touch you in my presence... Perhaps , yes , you will live . You don't have to worry.

And then she gently stroked your face with her rough, big and warm palm. Trying to calm her down. This unknown woman, and it looks like she 's their boss

- Creepy woman - boss : Kristina, untie this Kätzchen.

- Kristina: Of course , boss !!! ~

Kristina runs up to you and... HITS YOU IN THE CAROTID ARTERY!! Knocking you out... But in the last seconds when you were conscious, you saw this unknown woman - their boss - hitting Kristina with an elbow in the neck. Making her fall down and then starts beating her up....!? And Gaetana just sighs and comes up to you, wiping yours.. Tears? Or it 's sweat .. You almost passed out , but you heard a phrase from her , against which there were sounds of blows , kicks and painful moans..

且_(ﾟ◇ﾟ；)ノﾞ

This time , you woke up on something warm ... You open your eyes in fright, remembering today's events, and see on whose lap you are lying..This is the creepy female boss. She notices that you are awake and smiles at you. She smells of VERY expensive perfume, tobacco and blood...

- Creepy woman - boss : good evening to you, Mein Schatz can you even get up?

Trembling violently (from fear and adrenaline at the same time) , you get to your feet , and immediately it gets dark in your eyes , and your legs give way and you fall... But you are caught by two powerful hands of that woman. And she... He sits you on her lap..! She looks into your scared face, and with a soft smile, hugging you, pulls you closer to her, and with her free hand caresses your face.

- Creepy woman - boss : Don't worry... And don't tremble. I don't want you to be afraid of me. And yes, don't worry about that rube girl. Right now, she can't even think and is sitting in your place right now.

- You: M -Miss..

She shushes you softly.

- Creepy woman - boss: Don't call me that. I'm Ricarda. Ricarda Reinhardt. What's your name?

- You: my name is.. (Your name)... And why am I even here..?

- Ricarda: well, how can I say it... One of your friends is my dealer. And he took my payment, but he didn't give me the batch of drugs. That's why we decided to kidnap you in order to lure him out, but... As it turned out, he died of an overdose yesterday.. And you're so cute to kill you ~

She gently stroked your back and hugged you. Pulling you even closer to her body while you were sitting on her powerful lap. She took the phone with her free hand .

- Ricarda : Hello, Jones, bring some food. Yes, thank you.

Ricarda nuzzled the top of your head and inhaled the scent of your hair.. And then, there was a knock on the door.

- Ricarda : Come in.

A man who looked like a butler entered the room, and put a tray of food on the table next to the bed on which you are sitting and left the room. And Ricarda took a fork, one plate of food, and with a fork broke off a small piece from the dish from the plate and gently brought it to your mouth.

- Ricarda : meine Seele, say "aah" ~

You open your mouth uncertainly and embarrassedly, and she feeds you..

- You: but I have hands.. I can eat by myself.

And Ricarda just smiles sweetly in response, shakes her head slightly and sends another piece of food into your mouth..

Thanks a lot for reading, the second part will be released tomorrow because I'm tired <3

[chishiyaisasnack]

Dare, part 5

Part 4 Part 6

Hi and welcome back to this silly series. This will be known as the walkie talkie chapter. There’s a lot of dialouge in this, and to not have to write ’he said/she said’ all the time I decided to write ” (in bold) when Chishiya talks and ” (normal font) when the reader talks.

(If you want to laugh while reading it just imagine the characters going ”over bzzt” at the end of ever sentence)

Disclaimer! This is pure smut. Only read it if you are of age and comfortable with the topic. It’s written and posted on mobile so I’m sorry if there’s any errors.

Tags @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y

”So… what are you wearing?”

The buzzing sound from the walkie talkie in your hand made you jump in your spot. You should’ve known that this stake-out that you and Chishiya were sent out on wasn’t going to be a quiet and smooth one. Nothing ever were with him. But… phone sex? You pressed your thumb on the transmission button, ready to stop whatever he was doing this time.

”Really? Do you really think that this is the right time for that?”

The rooftop you were stationed on was overlooking a part of the dark streets of night time Tokyo. Normally it would have been full of life, lights everywhere and happy voices filling the gaps between cars driving past those people. Now it was hauntingly empty, the only sound coming from the gusts of wind up on the roof.

”Why not? We’re just waiting anyway.”

Chishiya was stationed in the same building, just on a lower floor. He was supposed to be up here with you but couldn’t be bothered to climb the stairs this high up. Your thighs wished that they had followed his idea and stayed a couple of floors down. Thankfully it wasn’t an apartment building, just an office building with around 25 floors. 25 floors too many.

”What has gotten into you?” You didn’t know Chishiya had this in him, making a move over the device which buzzing noice was starting to really test your nerves by now.

”I’m just curious of what you are wearing, that’s all.” Chishiya was surely just messing with you, there was no way he would dirty talk normally so why do it over a device like this?

”You saw me like five minutes ago” you huffed back at him, rolling your eyes before continuing to look out over the street below you.

”Oh, so you’re not wearing anything under your skirt? How bold.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes.

”For fucks sake.”

”Don’t you want to know what I’m wearing?” Chishiyas tone had turned playful, he knew that he had caught your attention and he was enjoying it.

”Not really, no.”

”But how could you imagine me being there with you if you don’t know what I look like?”

You could imagine him very clearly. Probably sitting on a couch, not giving any attention to his actual task, just with that provoking smirk on his face knowing that he was bothering you.

”I saw you too about five minutes ago, besides I’d rather not imagine anything, thank you very much. We’re here to keep an eye on the surroundings.”

”Hmm…” The buzzing sound left an echo on your ears as Chishiya went quiet. Did he finally give up? No, it was never this easy. Wait, had he spotted someone? Was he in danger? Your heart rate went up as you ran further towards the edge to see if anything was happening down there, but it didn’t take long before the buzzing was back.

”I bet I can make you cum while talking like this before they call us back.”

Nope, he clearly only just started, and the worst part was that the tingling feeling between your legs was telling you that it was working.

”I doubt it.” You weren’t going to give in that fast. At least, that was what you told yourself. You gave the streets below you one last look before you wandered back to the nearest wall to get some cover from the chilly winds.

”So you’re not imagining me leaning against the wall with a hand on my cock?”

You choked on nothing and started coughing. Now you definitely were imagining that and you didn’t disapprove with the sight. Truth was that you had been dying to see Chishiya touch himself for a while now. Him - standing, laying or sitting, it didn’t matter at all - with his fingers wrapped around himself, working up and down in the way he liked the most. Breath hitching, legs twitching, whispering your name when he comes…

”… Are you?”

”No.”

God damnit. So much for that fantasy.

”But I will be if you join me. So, are you going to take on the bet?”

Of course you were going to take the bet. But first you had to know how to make Chishiya lose.

”What do I get if I win?”

”Well, if you lose you’ll get an orgasm. I think that’s a pretty good bet” Chishiya purred on the other end of the device.

”But if I win?” It wouldn’t be a good bet if you didn’t have a chance to gloat.

”I’ll finish you off myself when we get back. However you want me to. So are you in?”

That tingling between your legs turned into burning when the image of his tounge between your legs flashed before your eyes.

”I don’t have anything better to do, so sure. Good luck, Chishiya.” You knew that he saw right through your attempts at being unbothered but you couldn’t give in to his smugness just yet.

You sank down onto the floor, leaning your back against the wall. If you were participating in this you might aswell be comfortable. It was silent around you when Chishiya didn’t talk, the night breeze swept through the air and chilled your already heated cheeks, probably already blushing from what was about to come (preferably you).

”Tell me what you are wearing.” Chishiyas voice was lower this time, sultry, sliding it’s way into your ears and going straight to your core. You were so easy to get going, and he knew it. Why did he have to sound so good?

”Except for the skirt and tank top, a black lace bra and matching lace panties” you started, lowering your own voice to match his. ”They have a tiny white bow on them. Very cute.”

”Have I seen them before?”

”I don’t think so. You’ll get to see them later when you lose, I promise.” This time it was your face that was painted with a smirk.

”Are you standing up?” Chishiya sounded just as unbothered as ever, so you decided to change that.

”No, I’m sitting down with my knees pulled up towards my chest. My skirt is barely covering anything. If you were here in front of me you’d see that white bow I mentioned.”

”Good. Stay like that.”

He was being bold already, but you decided to put a bit more pressure on him to see just how far he would take the dirty talk, to see what he would say to make you drown in his voice.

”Tell me what you’d like me to do Chishiya” you said and raised the stakes. Chishiya took the bait.

”I want you to close your eyes, then picture my fingers on your body, touching your neck, your chest, your stomach. I know how sensitive you are there, I can feel the way you shiver every time I touch you right below your ribs.”

Pleased with his courage, you did as he asked, closed your eyes and let your imagination take over. The feeling of his hands on your body was easy to recall, warm and soft, always so gentle when he traced along your skin.

”Use your hand. Touch yourself like if I was touching you.”

You moved your empty hand to your neck, slowly dragging your fingers over it, making yourself shiver, just like he would’ve made you. He liked to trace the outline of your ear with his thumb, following with a kiss so soft that it would leave you breathless.

”Now your chest.”

Your hand flowed over your collarbone and down to the skin between your breasts, as low as your tank top let you, continuing by tracing the swell of your breasts above your bra. You imagined Chishiya pushing your bra down to feel more, cupping your breast while his mouth worked wonders on your collar bone.

”Your hands always feel so good on me Chishiya. So warm, so soft” you mumbled into to the device in your other hand. He was truly skilled with those hands and he knew exactly how to touch you to drive you crazy. After touching your breasts, he would move lower onto your stomach and draw lines with his fingertips, light as a feather that left a burning sensation after it. He’d make you roll your hips under him as your body would automatically beg for more, but he wouldn’t give it to you, not yet.

”Where do your want my hands right now?” He was definitely being affected by this, you could hear it in the way he had softened his voice, no longer just asking but wondering.

”Sliding up the inside of my thighs, like I’m doing right now.” You imagined his hands starting at your knees and stroking all the way up to your hip, before using his thumb to press on the soft skin inbetween your thighs. He wouldn’t give it to you just yet, he’d make you imptatient, struggling to cope with the lack of touching where you wanted him to, focusing on your soft inner thighs with both his fingers and his lips.

”Your legs are so soft. I can’t wait to have them wrapped around my head while I eat you out.”

You couldn’t wait either. His warm mouth covering you, tounge circling, lips gently sucking…

”And you always move your hips towards me when I touch you there, letting me know what you really want.”

Chishiya lowered his voice once more, almost down to a whisper.

”What do you really want, y/n?”

”I want to feel your mouth on me” you whined, longing for the feeling of warm, wet lips kissing, sucking, breathing on your now burning skin. The chilled night time air did nothing to help with how hot you were, legs now spread open and head leaning back against the wall.

”Where do you want it?”

”Anywhere. My neck, my stomach, my legs…” you mumbled mindlessly as you started to trace the outline of your underwear, teasing yourself while waiting for Chishiyas words. ”Wherever you want. Everywhere.”

There was a brief pause before the device came to life again. When it did, it did with the exact words you wanted to hear.

”I want you to touch youself for me.”

You didn’t hesistate and slipped your hand under your panties, sighing deeply with content when you finally brushed over your clit, the electrifying feeling taking over as you started to rub small circles over it. Your hips moved in circles, mirroring the pattern your fingers made.

”Tell me how wet you are” Chishiya sounded breathless too, hopefully from being just as into this as you were.

”So wet” you moaned, just for him. ”I can barely touch myself properly, my fingers keep sliding.”

”Put two fingers inside yourself.”

You followed his wishes and let you finger move from your clit to your entrance, just to be added by another one before sliding into yourself. Another quiet moan escaped as you filled yourself, putting pressure on your walls and brushing past that spot that felt so, so good. You visioned Chishiyas fingers inside you, struggling to reach as far as he could, leaving you desperate for more.

”Your fingers feel so much better. They are so long… you always reach so deep. They feel so good inside me.” You hoped your whining had an effect on him too, hoped that he was on the other end of the line fucking his hand like you were doing to yourself.

”Use your other hand to rub yourself.”

You immediately went to use your other hand, relieved that you were going to be able to come really soon, but was stopped once you remembered the device still being held in it.

”Then I won’t be able to answer you.”

”That’s okay, just listen to my voice.”

You thought you could hear shuffling in the background while he talked, and you were pleased with the thought that it might have been him removing his shorts.

”Okay. Just keep talking, please”

You did as Chishiya told you, placed the walkie talkie next to you and shuffled another finger into your panties because you couldn’t find it in you to stop and take them off. A whimper escaped your lips when your finger came in contact with your bundle of nerves, instantly increasing that electrifying feeling that was coursing through your veins.

”I can’t stop thinking about your mouth around my cock. You, on your knees, sucking me off and touching yourself at the same time.” Chishiya sounded needy, breathing heavy and with that low raspy voice that lit you on fire.

Fuck, you wanted that too. His reactions to you blowing him were the best. Starting with barely being audible to saying your name like a prayer when he was close. His fingers threaded through your hair, his hips struggling not to take over and fuck into your mouth. How could you not get off to that?

”I wish you did it right now, my hand is boring compared to you.”

So he was touching himself. You wondered what speed he went, slow and steady to drag it out, or maybe he was impatient and fucked his hand with urgency.

”You’re so wet, aren’t you? I bet I could slide my cock right in. Fuck you nice and deep, just how you like it”

Fuck, you wouldn’t last another minute if he kept this up. In your head you could feel him filling you up and fucking you until you were a complete mess. His cock felt amazing, and since he was so attentive and observant he knew exactly what you liked and he gave it to you better than you could’ve ever dreamt of.

”I want to be inside you. I want to fuck you until you can’t stand, then bend you over until you can’t move. And then, if you’re really good, just like you are right now, I’d come wherever you want me to. Do you want me to fill you up? Or do your want it on your body? You looked so pretty that time, when I came all over your chest.”

Your mind went blank. You didn’t think that the thought of him coming on you instead of in you would be this much of a turn on. Then again, he never wanted to do it because of the mess, so you might have unknowingly developed a thing for it. Who knew? You certainly didn’t and you certainly didn’t care when the only thing on your mind was a groaning Chishiya behind you, filling you up as he rocked into you.

”Come for me”

You didn’t have a choice but to follow. With a final moan you came, finally getting the release you’ve been building up to. The orgasm rode through your like waves, from the tip of your fingers and down to your toes, spreading warmth and satisfaction throughout your whole being. You didn’t remove your fingers until the last wave had stopped, and when you did you let them fall to your sides, onto the cold cement below you to rest while you catched your breath.

You opened your eyes after what felt like an enternity, but instead of the view of the buildings around you, you were met with a figure standing in front of you and you felt all air leaving your lungs at once.

You screeched, turning around on the ground so fast that you almost fell backwards and crossed your legs so quick that the slap from your thighs against eachother stinged.

”What the hell are you doing!?”

”Watching you.” Chishiya just grinned as he observed you freaking out in front of him. ”You were right about the white bow.”

”Yeah, I can see that!” You ignored the comment about you underwear and picked up your sandal that had flown off your foot when you tried to kick away from him. You considered throwing it in his face. ”How long have you been standing there?”

”Long enough to see you lose the bet.”

[tkwrites]

Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies - Matthew Tkachuk x ofc

Photos from Pinterest

Title: Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Matthew Tkachuk x Original female character 

Warnings: smut (18+ only), oral (m and f receiving), face sitting, unprotected sex (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), lots of teasing, mentions of a past, bad semi-controlling relationship.

Summary: When Matthew admits he wants to be bossed around by his girlfriend, she decides to surprise him after a long stint away from home.

Word count: 8500 

Comments: This was inspired by a very intense dream I had a while ago. It’s been in my drafts for more than 2 months as I’ve tried to get it right - trying to find the right balance between smut and story. I originally started this with Quinn and Sarah in mind, but almost instantly realized this wasn't their story. 

I think Matthew is adorable, and thought he would be a perfect fit for it. I thought about this post a lot while I was writing it. 

This is so long and way more smutty than anything I’ve ever posted for others to read. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Love sometimes means fulfilling fantasies

The moment he walked in the house, his eyes were drawn to the bedroom light filtering across the kitchen. Sophie had tried to stay up for him. She did this occasionally, and every time, he would find her in bed, asleep with her glasses still on and a book open on her chest. 

Smiling at the prospect, he set down his bag and shed the raincoat he hadn't bothered to take off in the car. 

“Bedroom. Now.” 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when her voice came from somewhere behind him. 

He turned to find her, but she rebuked him before he saw anything. "I didn't say you could look, Matthew." 

His body responded immediately. Fuck, that's hot. 

More than a month before, she had asked if he had any fantasies he wanted to explore. He admitted that he wanted to be… not dominated - he didn't want to be tied down or anything - but he wanted to be ordered around. The image of Sophie, assertive and demanding, taking pleasure from his body was the subject of many of his dreams. 

It had been so long since that conversation, he'd nearly forgotten about his hushed, “I think about you bossing me around all the time.” 

"Bedroom. Now," she repeated. 

He rushed to get there, leaving his things strewn on the mudroom floor. 

Upon arriving home, he had leaned into his fatigue, prepared to fall into bed, tucking his desire away until morning. This was a totally different welcome than the one he'd been expecting. Adrenaline coursed into his veins banishing the fatigue all together. 

The click of heels followed him through the house, a kind of suspenseful music that ticked to the beat of his heart. 

She was even wearing heels? She never wore heels at home. 

“I hope you're getting undressed,” she said in a sing-songy voice when he got to the bedroom. 

He jumped to obey.  

“Leave your pants on, though.”

He had to redo the zipper, not an easy task with his erection testing the limits of his boxers. He told himself it would be worth it as he re-buttoned his pants. 

The buttons on his shirt nearly popped off in his desperation to get out of it as he toed off his shoes. He didn't like to be barefoot nearly ever, but it was an ick of hers for him to be in bed with only socks on, so he removed them before tossing everything into the closet. 

“Very good,” she said, appearing in the doorway, wearing a dark red robe and black heels with complicated looking straps around her ankles. 

Rooted to the spot and unable to look away, Matthew devoured each deliberate, slow movement as she stalked closer to him. Lace winked at him from between the lapels of her robe. It made him ravenous to see what exactly was under all that silk. 

He started to salivate as his mind caught on to the reality that he would only need to pull the sash at her waist and she would be nearly naked. He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on her.

“Tell me, Matthew, did you expect this?”

He shook his head. He could hardly believe it was even happening. She even had her hair down and curled. 

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, ma'am.” 

She wrinkled her nose, breaking character. A relieved smile spread over his face. He knew this was a character, but having it confirmed that his sweet, funny Sophie was still in there put him more at ease. 

“Not ma'am,” she said, “that makes me sound old. Miss?” she mused, “that's not much better.”

“Mistress,” he supplied. 

She cut her eyes at him, “is that what you call me when you dream about this?”

“N-no,” he stammered.

“What do you call me then?” she asked, placing her hand on his bare chest. 

Gulping, he barely bit back a moan at the skin to skin contact.  

“What do you call me when you dream about being bossed around, Matthew?” she repeated, voice quiet and seductive in his ear as she moved even closer. The silk of her robe brushed against his arm. 

“Sophie,” he said. This time, his voice was a moan. 

His confession hit her full force. He wasn't just interested in being bossed around - he was interested in being bossed around by her. She expected this fantasy to be farther from reality.

“Let's try this again,” she said, mostly for herself. “Matthew, do you like what I'm wearing?”

“Yes.”  

“Yes?” 

“Yes, Sophie.” 

“Good,” she praised, trailing her hand around his rib cage. “Kiss me.”

He pounced like a starved man, catching her mouth in a kiss that was all at once passionate and consuming. 

When his hand ran up the smooth fabric covering her back, he felt it through his whole body.

Taking control, she coaxed his tongue into her mouth and sucked. He was instantly transported back to the first time she'd done this same thing after their second date. His legs still turned to putty. It felt so good every time. She tugged on his hair and he let out noise he never made with anyone else. 

This was a side of Sophie he'd never seen at home. 

It often came out in other places when decisions needed to be made. She always had a quiet confidence about her, but when a crisis happened, or no one was stepping up to make decisions, she, as she called it, “put on her boss pants and got shit done."

The first time she'd done it, they'd been on vacation with some friends and missed their boat back to the hotel. He'd been embarrassingly turned on by the way she had taken control, calming everyone down and ordering him to call the hotel concierge so they could get some directions. After that, he doubled his efforts, trying to convince her to give him a chance as more than a friend. 

Now that the bossy side of her was finally directed at him in their bedroom, he couldn't get enough. 

She broke away and kissed her way up to his ear. “Am I doing okay?” she asked softly.  

Okay? She practically had him on his knees. It was so unfair for this to come right after a road trip. He was already starving for her, and now she was teasing.  

“Yes,” he panted.

She took a step back from him, “Do you want to see what I have on underneath?”

He nodded, seconds away from actually dropping to his knees to beg for her. It had been seven long days since he'd had her, and this situation had him ready to do whatever he needed to to please her. 

“Go ahead,” she said, letting her arms fall open to give him free access.

His hands lept to the tie, which fell away easily. His eyes widened as he pushed the silk off her shoulders and it pooled at her elbows.

“Do you like it?” she asked, letting the silk flutter onto the floor. 

She wore a black lace bra that made her boobs look incredible with, it looked like, matching cheeky panties, just like she knew he liked. 

Saliva pooled under his tongue. Oh God. He was fucked. 

"Matthew, do you like it?" she asked again, throwing in a twirl for good measure. 

Catching his first glimpse of her ass, the lace riding half way up her cheeks, his knees nearly buckled. She was so damn sexy. 

His over eager nod had him feeling like some kind of cartoon character - too fast and exaggerated. 

The whole time she had been devising this plan, Sophie had imagined his reaction to this lingerie. She knew he would like it. Looking at him now, with his blown pupils and fingers flexing at his sides, she found she wanted to tease him just a little bit more. 

Turning her back to him, she bent down to unlatch her right shoe. 

His groan was the stuff dreams were made of.

His hand caressed over her left hip, and she batted it away. 

“I didn't give you permission to touch,” she said, standing straight as she turned around, only one of the three right straps undone. 

A desperate sound escaped his throat, and he forced himself to ask, “can I please touch you, Sophie?” 

Tapping an index finger on her lips, she pretended to think. “I'm not sure you've earned that, yet.” 

The shock that covered his face was almost instantly replaced by competitive determination. “What do I need to do?” he asked, his voice sounding like it'd been raked over hot coals. 

“Let's see if you can keep your hands to yourself for at least one shoe, yeah?” 

Matthew hated and loved this idea with every fiber of his being. Sophie didn't usually tease. Now that she was, he found he only wanted more.

Once he agreed, she turned around again - because of course she did - and bent over, showcasing the natural flexibility every woman in his family was envious of. She was going to kill him. Or slowly drive him insane. Or perhaps both. 

Matthew shoved his hands in his pockets and fisted them to keep them from developing a mind of their own. 

With the fiddly straps undone, she decided it was enough. His breathing was getting more and more ragged, which had her so turned on, she could feel her desire soaking her little lace panties. 

Raising to a flat back position, she glanced over her shoulder. “Are you going to ask again?” 

He swallowed visibly, “can I please touch you?” 

“Yes.” 

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and she watched his fingers flex and contract as if they'd been fisted so tightly, he needed to bring blood back into them. 

He reached for her. 

“But-” he stopped immediately, letting out a little whine. “You can't take anything off.” 

Nodding quickly, he agreed. He just needed his hands on her.

She bent over again, and his hands caressed her soft hips. 

“Fuck, Sophie.” After all that, touching her felt like it's own reward. 

With the other buckles undone she stood, making sure to toss her hair back into his face when she did. 

He grunted, pulling her against him so she could feel what she was doing to him. 

"What do you want?" she asked, one hand slipping around the back of his neck as she kicked off her shoes. 

With the heels gone, Matthew reveled in having his normal sized girlfriend back. "I want whatever you want to give me."

Turning in his embrace, one of her eyebrows rose. "Whatever I want to give you?" she repeated, trailing her fingers from his waistband to his nipple, which she circled delicately. 

Nodding, he made a sort of muffled, whining, affermatory noise. 

"What if I want to give you what you want?"

“That's not…uh, I, uh,”  a jumble of gibberish fell out of his mouth. He was having a hard time focusing enough to form coherent words, still trying to reconcile the Sophie in front of him with the one he'd expected to find. Meanwhile, her finger still circled the sensitive nub, sending so much electricity shooting between his legs, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this hard in his life. 

Her mouth brushed against his ear before she asked again, "what do you want, Matthew?” Gently taking the lobe between her teeth, she nibbled 

The way she kept saying his name coupled with how she was touching him made his brain short circuit into primitive, caveman thinking. "I want to make you come."

"How?"

This wasn't how this was supposed to go. She was supposed to be telling him what to do, not the other way around. 

Taking a deep breath, he paused to make his thoughts coherent before telling her, "you tell me. You're supposed to be the one ordering me around."

Sophie blushed. She knew he wanted her assertive and bossy, but neither of those were things she could just pull out at the drop of a hat - especially in the bedroom. It was one thing to tease him by dangling what she knew he wanted just out of reach. It was something totally different to order him around like he was some kind of pet. She'd been trying to circumnavigate around her discomfort by ordering him to tell her what he wanted. It was a cop out and she knew it. 

"You promise this is okay?" she asked, letting nerves shake her voice. 

This was fantasy brought to life in a way he'd never expected. Looking into her eyes, he brought her hand to the front of his trousers so she could feel how he strained against the zipper. "More than okay. Tell me what you want me to do." 

Standing straight, she steeled herself and tried not to let her voice warble. "I want your mouth," she said.

There was no shock in his face, only a deepening desire as his eyes grew darker.

Oh. 

This wasn't just for her. 

He wanted it. 

He liked it. 

A force she'd never felt before flowed down her spine, filling her with conviction. Leaning into that newfound power, she added, "and I want to be on top." 

She'd fantasized about it for so long, but had never been brave enough to tell him. 

“Gladly,” he rasped, mind already racing with images and ideas. 

For his part, Matthew wanted to give her any and every experience she wanted, but knew she wouldn't ask for the things she felt were more risqué as part of their normal, everyday life.

He hoped this fantasy of his might kill two birds with one stone.

Unable to look away, his breath locked in his chest as she hooked her thumbs in her panties, easing the sides down. 

"Do you want to -" she stopped herself, before swallowing and starting again. "Matthew?"

“Yeah?” 

"I want you to take off my lingerie."

Getting orders from her was even hotter than he dreamed it would be. He was going to start drooling here if he wasn't careful.

Back to her in a flash, he slid his fingers to the clasp of her bra. Palms skimming over her breasts, he eased the fabric off. "You're so fucking beautiful," he said, letting the lace drop to the ground. 

Glancing into her face, voice gruff, he asked, “can I use my mouth on you here?”

She nodded, letting out a breathy, “yes.”

As his mouth went to her breasts, licking and kissing, his hands swept over her hips so he could take large handfuls of her ass in those damn underwear. 

Her mind began to spin. Not only from his talented mouth, now laving at one of her nipples, but because of her plan. She wanted him in her mouth before they made love. She needed to rethink her strategy to make sure he had enough time to recover.

His hands slowly slid up to her waistband, relishing the texture of the lace contrasted against her smooth, warm skin. 

“Stop,” she ordered before he could push her underwear off.

He pulled his mouth away, but didn't take his hands off of her. 

When she went to his neck, leaving open mouthed, wet kisses, his fingers curled into the flesh of her hips. His head tipped to give her more access.  

Sophie could never spend enough time with her mouth and hands on Matthew. “You smell so good,” she purred, continuing her exploration onto his collar bone. 

The feeling of her mouth on him while her hands slowly slid down his back had him too entranced to respond with more than a grunt. 

She licked the divot between his clavicle and the round swell of his shoulder before cupping his rear to pull him flush to her body.

Fireworks popped and flashed between them as Matthew rocked his hips into her, desperate to soothe his aching lust. He wanted her so much. He’d wanted her when he parked the car, resigned to the fact that he would have to wait until the next morning. Now, she was against him with her beautiful body, wearing the sexiest pair of underwear he’d ever seen. He let his fingers trace the lace pattern at the edge and smiled when she shuddered. 

Her mouth continued its exploration, winding down his chest, pausing to flick her tongue over the nipple she had neglected. 

He moaned, eyes flaring wide when she lowered to her knees in front of him.

“I changed my mind.” 

Looking up, she traced a feather light touch from his belly button to the button of his pants and smiled when his muscles flexed and jumped.

“I'm going to blow you before you use that pretty mouth on me.”

He swore. This was a kind of torturous heaven where she was slowly driving him mad before giving him what he needed. He never wanted her to stop. 

Working the button of his pants, then the zipper torturously slow, she purred, “you're going to come in my mouth, okay, Matthew?”

His breathing hitched, his voice nearly cracking as he agreed, “yes, Sophie.” 

He rarely let her finish him that way. He loved her mouth, but past girlfriends hadn't liked it, so he tended to avoid the issue. Besides, given the choice, he would rather come inside her. He never would have guessed she missed it. 

Peeling his boxer briefs down, Sophie leaned into the alter ego she kept caged within her own thoughts. “Good boy,” she praised. 

 God, hearing that should not make him shiver with anticipation and pleasure as much as it did. He flushed at having pleased her.

As he stepped out of his pants, he wondered if she might let him sit down. It had been so long since he'd come in her mouth, he wasn't totally sure he'd stay upright, especially tonight. Before he could ask, she was running her hands over his legs. 

Sophie tsked. “These thighs,” she all but moaned reverently. Obligingly, the muscles in question flexed under her palms. 

Apparently, she was letting everything she'd ever fantasized about bubble up to the surface as if her propriety had sloughed off along with her lingerie. 

The next thing he knew, she was licking his leg from the knee all the way up to the v line, which she kissed and tongued liberally. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. She'd never worshiped his body like this. He knew she found him attractive, but this was something totally different. It made his stomach clench and his head feel light.

Every brush of her tongue, every kiss from her lips made him twitch. She was so close to where he wanted her. Knowing she wanted him to come in her mouth made it worse until he was simmering and heady with impatience. 

She pulled away so slowly, he swore he could feel every millimeter of her lips lifting from him. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was finally getting her mouth. It melted into a whine when she passed over to begin the same torture on the other leg. He was so close to the pleasure she was promising, but she was holding off. 

“Please Sophie,” he begged. He would do anything to feel her.

“Since you asked so nicely,” she said, smiling up at him through her lashes as she guided him past her lips. 

He had to close his eyes to stop himself from exploding at the sight alone. 

She pulled off nearly as soon as she'd started, “do you like it, Matthew?”

He almost said something snarky, like, I would if I could feel it, but thought better of it. The Sophie in front of him was a different creature than usual, and he didn't want to upset her. He had no doubt she wouldn’t hesitate to punish him for his sass, and he couldn’t take that on top of everything else. 

Instead, he leaned into the shy, genuine part of himself. “Yes, Sophie.” 

Finally, she took him in her mouth, swallowing all she could comfortably fit and using her hand on the rest. 

Sinking his fingers into her hair, he tried to steady himself without leaning too much weight on her. 

“You feel so good.” 

With seven days away and twenty minutes of blissful torture built up in his system, he knew it wouldn’t take much to tip him over the edge. Still, when the tell tale signs rushed in so soon, even he was surprised. He needed to tell her in case she changed her mind.

“Soph, ’m gonna come,” he said urgently.

Her mouth lifted off of him completely. “You’re such a good boy, Matthew,” she purred, slowly skimming her fingertips down his throbbing cock, “giving me what I want.” 

Eyes rolling back, he practically growled. He’d always wanted her to order him around but never imagined her praising him like this. He wanted more and more, again and again.

She wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, and he moaned, thrusting softly into her mouth. 

His orgasm reared anew fast enough to give him whiplash. 

She hummed as she pulled him over the edge and the vibrations rippled through his body, making every muscle stutter. 

When she slid her mouth off him, she paused to make sure he was looking her in the face before she swallowed. 

"Holy shit." He stumbled back and sank onto the bed, legs losing the battle to stay upright. He'd hoped she would be a little more liberated, but this was beyond any of his expectations. "Fuck, Soph, that was so hot." 

Bringing him nearly to his knees with her mouth alone made her feel like she could do anything. It was just the confidence boost she needed. A feeling of immense self satisfaction filled her.

Crawling over to him, she used his knees for balance as she stood.

Matthew wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against her stomach, needing to feel her close as he came down. 

"I love you," he said, mouth against her skin. It felt important to tell her. Not just because of the blow job - which, God, did he love her for - but because he loved all of her. He loved her for her willingness to fulfill this fantasy. It was so much better than anything he'd imagined. 

"I love you, too." 

She threaded her fingers into his curly hair and his eyes fluttered shut. 

Soaking in the tender moment, he let himself catch his breath before pressing kisses to her stomach. 

“I swear, I thought about eating you out every night I was gone.” 

“Really?" She sounded more surprised than he would like. 

He nodded, tongue darting over his lips as he looked up at her. “I love getting you off and I know you like oral best.”

“I mean…You don't mind the smell?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. 

“Do you really think I would put myself through it so often if I didn't like it?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.  

“I don't know,” she said with a shrug. “I thought maybe it was something you just put up with to get to the good part.”

“It's all the good part with you Soph.”

She chuffed a little laugh. 

“I love the way you taste. I crave it when I've been away too long.”

The way her cheeks flushed made him want to please her even more. 

"Are you ready to sit on my face?" he teased, assuming she found the phrase crass. 

Even while rolling her eyes, she nodded. 

The uncertain feelings that were nearly always stewing in her finally broke to the surface for the first time that night. "We don't have to do it that way."

"No," he reprimanded gently, flexing his grip so she couldn't pull away. "If this is something you want, you deserve to get it. I'm fine with it."

Her teeth worried at her lower lip, "you're sure?"

"Yes," he said fervently. "I want to make you feel good, and if this is how you want it, I want to do it for you."

"I just," she paused to sigh a breath through her nose. "I don't want to suffocate you or something."

He laughed. 

"I'm serious, Matthew."

"It'll be fine, Sophie."

"How do you know?"

"I've done it before, and it was fine." 

She looked unconvinced, and like she was about to argue another point he knew wouldn’t make any difference. He cut in before she could bring it up. "If it'll make you feel better, I can let you know if I can't breathe."

She pursed her lips, barely keeping in her worry about being bigger than any of the women he'd dated before. That would bring on a whole lecture about how it wasn't true, and her weight didn't matter to him - he just wanted her to be happy and healthy.

Most of the time, she was able to put off the comparison and agree with him, but this felt like a case where that factor should be taken into consideration. 

In the end, the thing that kept her quiet were memories of the sad, wounded, puppy look he got in his eyes when she talked disparagingly about her body. 

"It would make me feel better," she said instead. 

"Done." 

Hooking his fingers into her panties, he started easing them down. 

Goosebumps rippled over her skin and her nipples tightened. 

Letting the lace fall the rest of the way down, he licked one of the tender buds into his mouth. He lay back, pulling her with him. Her core was hot and wet against his thigh as she draped over him.

His hands and mouth on her, and his care and willingness to fulfill her fantasies had her outrageously turned on. She rutted against his thigh a few times in an attempt to pacify her lust.

He moaned, flexing the muscle on instinct. She gasped, deciding instantly that getting herself off on his thigh was definitely going onto her fantasy wishlist. 

For now, though, she couldn't be deterred from the opportunity at hand. She moved onto the bed and he scrambled up to lay his head on the pillows. 

He got comfortable before motioning her over. "Here," he said, voice husky, but gentle, "you can hold onto the headboard here."

Heat raced onto her cheeks. 

"Come on," he said, reaching for her. "It's been too long. I can't wait to taste you."

Letting him pull her into position, her heart was already pounding against her ribs as if it might try to break out of her chest. 

Matthew had dreamed of this before - Sophie, all lovely and lush above him while he worshiped her with his mouth. The reality of it was so much better than anything he had imagined. 

"You're so beautiful," he said, running his hands up and down her thighs. 

She blushed, but accepted the compliment, "thank you."

He continued to admire her, waiting until she was ready. 

"You promise you'll tell me if you can't breathe?"

"Yes, I promise," he assured. "I'll tap your hip like this."

She nodded. 

"Now, come here." 

Wrapping his large hands over her hips, he guided her to his mouth. The sound she let out when he made contact was music to his ears. 

It was so much better than she'd anticipated. Perhaps it was just the thrill of a fantasy becoming reality that had her nervous system in overdrive, but something about this - the position, the way his mouth worked on her clit and the way he huffed against her had her synapses snapping. 

As it turned out, she may have been right to worry. Not because of her imagined fear that she was bigger than other women he'd dated, but because Matthew was so competitively intense and wanted to make her come so badly, he would put off breathing until his body demanded oxygen. The reality that he couldn’t just tilt his head to pull in a quick breath hit him full force after a few minutes. 

Although he'd had no intention of using the signal, he tapped her hip twice when his lungs started to burn.

She lifted up, but he stopped her before she got more than an inch away. His tongue kept working, circling her sensitive bud, even as she felt him drag in heavy, deep breaths.

She shuddered as cool air pulled across her heated skin.

Pulling her back down, he latched his mouth back onto her, sucking and stroking. 

"Matthew."

He would never get over the way she moaned his name.

"Matthew, put your tongue inside me." 

Where had that come from? She'd read about it before, but never had any desire to feel it. She got off from clitoral stimulation, so what would that bring to the table? 

With the reality that was Matthew working his magic, and her newfound ability to call the shots, she found she needed his mouth in every way possible. 

He groaned and felt her shudder above him. He was never getting over this. He was never getting over her going after what she wanted. Never getting over experiencing her like this. 

A new wave of pleasure ripped through her when he shifted to accommodate her request. She didn’t think this could get any better. 

Sophie clung to the headboard. "That feels so good," she whined.

He kept thrusting his tongue into her, hands gripping her hips to keep her steady. She filled his senses completely, leaving no room for anything else, and he wouldn't have it any other way.  

"Oh!" she moaned loudly when he adjusted his angle slightly, bringing the straight bridge of his nose against her clit.

Fire whipped up her spine. "Right there! Don't stop, don't stop, please don't stop."

He was never stopping - not until she was satisfied a million times over. 

Head thrown back, she panted in rhythm with his ministrations. He'd never seen anything so beautiful. 

Her thighs trembled around him and he knew she was close. Putting off breathing for a bit longer, he continued urging her up the peak he knew she was so close to cresting. 

Mouth open, she tried to let him know she was coming. Instead, her body took over, letting out a keening noise she'd never heard herself make before. 

Her core fluttered around his tongue and Matthew moaned. He loved this part: the point when he knew he'd won over her body and pushed her over the edge into bliss. 

Forcing her hips up just enough, he sucked in a few deep breaths before wrapping his lips around her clit, flicking it with his tongue.  

Time tilted and her body felt weightless as her high rolled into another. 

“Oh my god.” 

He kept going, and she kept coming. One of her hands abandoned its post balancing on the headboard to fist into his curls. He groaned, just like she knew he would.

The first time he went down on her, he told her she could pull his hair if she wanted. She'd been so surprised at the way he had moaned into her, intensifying his efforts when she had. 

Easing off when pleasure started to bleed into pain, she lifted herself up. He licked his lips and pulled in some heavy breaths. 

Chest heaving, Sophie tried to swing her leg over so she could sit next to him. 

"One more," he moaned, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her thighs to keep her over him. "Let me give you one more."

He hadn't prepared himself for that to be the last one. There was no way he could be done with this scenario. With her pleasure engulfing every one of his senses, he just couldn't be done. It was too intoxicating. 

"Please," he said as if he might die without it. 

Twist her arm, she couldn't resist. Matthew was the only man Sophie had ever been with who put so much emphasis on her pleasure, let alone enjoyed getting her off. 

As soon as she started lowering her hips back down, he leaned up and licked a thick stripe through her. 

Her legs quivered. "I'm -" she had to pause and take a deep breath, "Matt, I'm sensitive," she said, looking down at him. 

He winked and coaxed her with long, languid strokes of his tongue. Watching her face intently, he made sure he was using just the right amount of pressure to not cause pain. 

Her hips began to move of their own volition, seeking. 

"Oh, God," she breathed, "Matthew."

If he died right then, he thought, he would die a happy man. 

Come on, he urged silently, come for me. 

As if she were reading his mind, she let out a long, low moan, and trembled above him, core pulsing against his mouth.

He feasted on her, drinking in every movement, every sensation. He could never get enough of her pleasure. 

This time, when she went to move off of him, he helped her. 

She sat heavily against the headboard, gulping in air. "Oh my God." Reaching for him without looking, her hand landed on his chest with a gentle smack. "That was amazing.”

Covering her hand with his own, he entwined their fingers before wiping his face with his other hand. 

After catching her breath, she moved to lay beside him. "Seriously," she said, settling on her side, one arm bent under her head as a pillow, "that was…I don't even have words for how good that was." 

He blushed. "I'm glad you liked it." Her praise, bereft of any teasing, had him feeling shy. 

“Liked it?” she repeated, giggling. “That was the most intense high I’ve ever felt. I don't think I’ve ever come that many times in a row.” 

Pride swelled in his chest. He reached for her and pulled her on top of him. Threading his fingers into her hair, he guided her down to a kiss.

She could taste herself on his mouth, which was arousing in a way she always felt shouldn't be.

His big hands explored, leaving fiery trails on her skin. When he cupped her breasts, she arched against him with a groan. The overstimulation had dissipated and was replaced by a steadily increasing hum of pleasure. 

His mouth and hands ignited her desire again. How was it possible to want someone this much? She wanted him in ways she didn’t know she’d ever want a man again. 

"I want you to take me from behind," she said, lips whispering against his. 

Matthew pulled back into the pillow to look at her face. "Are you sure?"

A while after they started sleeping together, he asked her what she liked. "Any position we can be face to face,” she'd said. “Smith only wanted it from behind the last few months. Every time I would initiate, he'd end up flipping me over. It made me feel so, like… unpretty, you know? Like he couldn't even stand to look at me."

It had broken Matthew's heart. How could anyone not want to look at her? He wanted to look at her all the time. 

Because of that, he always made sure to initiate cowgirl, missionary or any other position where they could be face to face. He never wanted her to feel like he didn't want her. 

"Yes," she said, sitting up. "I know you'd never turn me around just to fantasize about someone else."

"Never," he agreed, emphatically. 

She'd never felt like this with a man before - so full to the brim with love and trust. "So, tonight, strictly for the sake pleasure, I want you to fuck me from behind."

This was another thing she never said, opting instead for sex or making love. She always said fucking was too vulgar of a word for what they were doing.

Hearing it from her mouth now woke a primal side of himself he hadn't felt since he was much younger. 

They never fucked, they made love. He didn't miss it, but the prospect of trying something new with her excited him beyond belief. 

“Where do you want me?”

The power humming beneath her skin shifted into a higher gear, giving her the jumpstart to move off of him. 

“On your knees,” she said. 

He obeyed, then watched, entranced, as she got into the position she wanted. On hands and knees, and then lowered to her forearms so her back sloped down. 

Turning her back to him felt so different than it had with Smith. There was nothing compromising about this with Matthew. She wasn’t embarrassed, or worried her face wasn’t pretty enough, or feeling like she was giving something up just to keep him close. 

“Okay,” she said. 

He moved behind her, skimming both hands up her legs and over the curvature of her sides like a priceless piece of art. He wanted to remember every second of this. 

The trust she felt for and from Matthew allowed her to be in her body more. She could feel the bed dip as he moved, feel the sheets brush against her pebbled nipples. Her skin buzzed with anticipation of his touch. She felt safe and giddy. When was the last time she’d ever felt giddy while on her knees? 

“Can you lift your hips a little more?” he asked, voice gentle.

She did and he bit his lip. He rarely fantasized about this. He preferred to see her face when they were together too, but this? This was a teenage wet dream come to life - made better with love, devotion and trust. 

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, stopping himself from running his fingers through her just so he could taste her sweet nectar again.

Sophie’s thoughts raced with possibilities - all the times she’d read about this - knowing Matthew would try anything she wanted at least once. 

“Slide over my clit,” she said.

A moan escaped his throat as he glided through her. He never would have done this on his own. Now, he never wanted to stop.

“How does it feel?” she asked. If she couldn’t see him, she needed him to tell her. 

“So good,” he grunted. “You’re so smooth.” 

She shifted her angle so the head of his cock brushed over her clit with each stroke. 

The fire in her belly raged into an inferno. 

“I need you inside me.”

He was going to die before the night was over. Hearing her say these things, hearing how much she wanted him, like she just couldn’t wait - he’d never wanted to please someone more in his entire life. 

Easing into her, he exhaled deeply, noting the way her back arched to change the angle of penetration. 

“Okay,” she said, gently pushing her hips back to give him permission to move. 

He started slow and soft, which was not at all what she wanted.

After a few slick thrusts, she told him what she did want, “harder.”

He picked up the pace, but it wasn't enough.

“Harder.”

Biting his lip, he increased again. 

She still wanted more. 

“Fuck me harder.” It came out more of a demand than a request. She was too caught up in the moment to feel bad about it.

Shit. 

Fuck. 

Goddamn. 

How was he supposed to just take this and not explode the second those orders came out of her mouth? 

“Matthew, please.”

Her begging shattered the controlled softness he usually restrained himself with. She wanted harder? He'd give her harder.

He snapped his hips to hers.

She cried out, back arching.

The sound of his skin meeting hers, the feeling of the sheets brushing her nipples as she was pitched forward, then pushed herself back, and his panting and grunting behind her made her feel feral in the best way, like she just wanted to swallow him whole. 

She pushed back to meet every thrust and he had to tip his head back. He wanted to wait. He had to.

Her entire body trembled with the need for release.

“Touch me,” she begged. She needed it so much, she felt like she might just set the whole house on fire. 

His left hand slid around her hip to stroke her. 

She moaned. It had never felt like this with Smith. This was… this was… this was a symphony. Every part working together to make something more beautiful than they could alone. 

That rhythm sustained her for a while before she was begging again, “more. Please give me more.” She was so, so close. 

Tenderly, he drummed two fingers on her clit, desperate to send her over the edge. 

Back bowing as pleasure streaked through her body, she shouted, “Fuck, Matthew! Yes!” 

There were a few delicious moments where Sophie was floating between being stretched to her limit and falling apart completely. 

The pressure finally exploded and her muscles locked around him.

Matthew gasped her name, right hand squeezing her hip to keep the tenuous grasp he had on his control. The idea he was clinging to helped him wait as he worked her through her orgasm. 

Joints blissfully liquefied, she collapsed onto her stomach.

Thankful for the break, he sat back on his haunches and took some time to steady himself as she came down. 

“Can you turn over?” he asked once her breathing slowed a bit. “I want to see your face when I come.”

Although she'd asked him to fuck her from behind, he knew she'd want to see him - to know she was the one making him feel this way. 

She was - and he needed her to know. 

Sophie nearly choked out a sob. Matthew, her sweet Matthew. He could be a pest, even to her when he wanted to tease, and especially when competition was involved, whether it be playing some silly game or the incessant need he had to win at everything: cleaning or chopping or the morning race to the bathroom. 

When it really counted, though, he was unfailingly polite and courteous and always looking out for her. 

The sheets briefly clung to her damp skin as she rolled over and looked up at him. His chest expanded and contracted rapidly with every panted breath. His skin was flushed, his curls tight with sweat. He was the most handsome thing she'd ever seen.  

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” she asked, reaching up to cup his face. 

“Everything,” he said, nuzzling his stubbled jaw into her palm. Had he known this was coming, he would have shaved. “You're perfect for me, Sophie.”

She blinked a few times to make the tears she could feel behind her eyes stay there. 

“I love you,” she whispered.

He grinned. “I love you, too.”

When he entered her again, slowly, he didn't close his eyes, though his lids grew heavy. He didn't want to miss a single second of this. 

Sophie let out a little yelp of surprise when he flipped them over. 

“I want to watch you come on my cock,” he said, holding her hips. “That's the only thing I want from tonight.”

While she was supposed to be giving the orders, she was happy to comply with this request, even though she was sore from her previous orgasms. 

She adjusted to get the right angle, and let out a stuttered little moan when he caressed against her g spot. Apparently, the best way to find it was to orgasm five times in a row. 

It wasn’t long before she began to fatigue. They’d been going for so long already, and she wasn’t used to using her muscles in short bursts of energy over and over again like he was. 

Leaning forward, trying to find a comfortable position, she winced as her clit brushed his pelvis. Pain flared, and she backed off, thighs and hips protesting the movement.

“I know, Soph,” he said.

He didn’t know really, but he knew how sensitive he got after an orgasm. If she was feeling anything like that, he definitely needed to make a change. 

Leaning back would probably be the most comfortable position for her. He straightened his knees a little more and guided her to recline against his legs. 

Sophie sighed contentedly, feeling the pain ebb off and pleasure start to thrum through her again. She swayed her hips from side to side, “so good, Matthew.” 

A small thrill zinged through him. He let out a relieved sigh and began rocking into her. 

She moaned and threw her head back, exposing the long column of her throat. It was exactly what he’d wanted.

This was a more gentle high than the one she’d just crested. It built up slowly, making her whole body feel warm and sated. 

By the time her orgasm did come, she was relaxed with the pleasure of it, glad her pelvic muscles did their work on their own. She was too blissed to direct any traffic. 

Matthew moaned when she constricted around him. It was such a stark contrast to the soft feel of them rocking together. That sudden shift sent him over the edge - spilling into her with his hands on her hips and her name on his tongue. 

Sophie slumped against Matthew's legs, gulping air. “Oh my God,” she said. 

“Yeah.”

She knew she should get up to use the bathroom, but was too exhausted to move. 

Finally, it became more uncomfortable to keep the position she was in than it would be to get out of it. 

Matthew's eyes flew open when she lifted up. He caught the wince that flashed across her face and his hands flew to help her. 

“Thanks,” she said, sliding off the edge of the bed with wobbly legs. 

Sophie's hips may as well have been made of jello as she stumbled to the bathroom. She felt stretched in ways she hadn't in a long time. It wasn’t totally unpleasant, but it was new.

When she opened the door, she found Matthew on the other side, looking down at her with concern in his blue eyes. 

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm just a bit sore.” She gave him a cheeky smile and a wink, “we haven't gone that many rounds in a night since Tahiti.” 

He laughed, but felt it was a shame they hadn't done that for more than six months. The season was taking too much of a toll. 

“Do you want to take a bath? That'll help with some of the soreness.”

“I'd like that.”

He handed her the robe she'd been wearing and started the tap on the large tub. 

As it filled, he lifted her onto the counter. “I'm sorry we haven't done that more,” he said. “I've been gone too much.”

“You don't need to apologize, Matthew. You're always present when you're home and I haven't felt neglected.” 

“How are you so understanding?” he asked. 

“I'm in this relationship too. I see how hard you work, and I know you see how hard I work. Plus, I don't need five orgasms a night to feel loved. You know that.” She paused before thoughtfully adding, “I don't think I'd survive.” 

He laughed, feeling, not for the first time, that this was his favorite thing about Sophie. She was beautiful and funny and sweet, but her willingness to understand his life and meet him halfway meant more than all that. 

“I saw you had the day off tomorrow, so I moved my meetings so we could spend the day together. And I just kept thinking I had enough time that I could fulfill your fantasy tonight.”

“I still can't believe you did that.” He said, bending down to rest his forehead on her shoulder, “when you bent over to take off your shoes, I swear I almost came in my pants.” 

“That sound you made was straight out of a porno.”

Straightening to look into her face, one eyebrow raised, he asked, “how would you know?”

“I don't live under a rock,” she teased, shoving his shoulder. 

He laughed, and a moment passed where Sophie admired him. 

“So it was okay?” she asked.

Matthew had to bite his cheek to keep from teasing her about possibly being deaf and blind. “You couldn't tell?”

“I mean, I could but I just wanted to be sure you got everything you wanted.”

He tipped her chin up to meet her gaze, “Soph, you know our sex life wasn't lacking before, right? This was just icing on the cake.” 

The unsure smile she gave him twisted his heart. “Have you been walking around for the past month thinking that I’ve been unsatisfied?” 

“No, not really. I know you like what we have, I just started to worry. Like, do you want me to be more aggressive in the bedroom all the time?” 

“Aggressive?” he repeated, “no. But I wouldn’t mind you telling me what you want more often. Like sliding over your clit? I never would have done that on my own, and we both really liked it.” 

She nodded, “I’m just so…” she took a deep breath. “With Smith, it always seemed I was lacking in something, you know?” 

If Matthew ever met Smith, he was going to punch him right in the face for hurting Sophie the way he did. She hadn’t even been able to end it on her terms. When she’d tried, he announced he was seeing someone else before she could get all the words out.

After they broke up, it took Matthew four months to convince her he was a good enough guy for her to even consider the idea they could be more than friends. 

He shut off the water before turning back to cup her cheeks, “Soph, I love you, and I love what we have. I’m sorry Smith hurt you, but I’m not him.”

“I know that,” she sniffed and slid off the counter.

Gathering her against him, kissing her hair, he murmured, “I love you, Sophie. You know I’ll tell you if I need something. Can you trust that if I don’t things are good?”

Matthew couldn’t be farther from Smith. Sometimes, she wondered how exactly she’d ended up in this relationship with a man that was so perfect for her. 

“Yeah,” she said into his neck. 

“Good.” 

He gently pushed the robe off. His heart still beat a little faster at her exposed skin, despite what they had just been doing. “You ready for that bath?” 

“You’re not coming?” 

“Do you want me to?” 

She nodded.

He scrambled out of his boxers and climbed into the tub before reaching for her so she could sit between his legs. 

Leaning back on him, she sighed contentedly. 

“I love you, Matthew,” she said, one hand raising to thread her fingers into the soft curls at the nape of his neck, “I'm so glad we found each other.” 

Letting the tips of his fingers trace memories on her skin, he recalled all the times he’d touched her. 

“I love you too, Sophie,” he said, wrapping his arms around her to bring her even closer - to shut out the world and everything that had or could hurt her. “You bring so much joy into my life and I don't want to do any part of it without you.” 

Deciding to trust what he said was true, she relaxed into him, letting the warm water soak away her pain until nothing more than a pleasant ache between her thighs remained. 

[deaddee-anime-brownfanlady]

TOP 10 personal Favorite Manga.

Here's just a couple of manga that I love & just think are top-notch.

NUMBER: 1 : TOKYO GHOUL

A series that means a lot to me in many ways. When I first got into Tokyo Ghoul it was by the very first season of the anime during 2014 and upon hearing the opening theme of Unravel and seeing the first episode, I was hooked and went into the manga series right after. A nuanced morally compelling storytelling with an array of so many cool and great characters and narratives, incredible art progression from Ishida Sui, and overall just a satisfyingly great conclusion to boot.

NUMBER: 2 : J NO SUBETE

On the surface, looks like a regular BL series, but underneath an emotional-roller-coaster and pretty heavy story about a transwoman named J. Set in the 40s /50s, you fellow J childhood and the awful, rough bullshit she deals with in life as well as her love & massive admiration of Marilyn Monroe. Really such a good story that deals with some real heavy shit...but still so good.

NUMBER: 3 : MONSTER

Not only one of my favorite anime adaptations but also equally as wonderfully engaging & just as well done as a manga as well. Monster is such a captivating, intense story and truly one of my favorites from Urasawa's works. Following Dr. Tenma, a talented neurosurgeon who has grips with the moral dilemma of either saving the Mayor or saving a young boy who was shot in a murder. Tenma chose to save the boy instead and while it costs him being demoted he still believes he did the right thing. Unfortunately years later discovering the boy he saves...turns out to be a killer. This series is such a banger from its storytelling to the characters and just one of the best from Urasawa's.

NUMBER: 4 : GOODNIGHT PUNPUN

At first glance of this manga, you might think of it as something of a cute slice-of-life story about a cute cartoony bird. But actually when reading it...IT'S WAY MORE DARKER and GETS A LOT MORE FUCK UP! For real Goodnight Punpun is one of those series that's start-up pretty light-hearted and a little bit goofy with Punpun being a cartoony-drawn bird amongst very average-looking humans as a young kid in the first volumes of the series. But as things move forward within the story as Punpun gets older and his family situation gets more unstable as well as his life, the tone gets more depressing as a whole. Love the dark psychological storytelling, although it definitely the type of story you can only read once in awhile or in a good headspace because it definitely can be a hard read.

NUMBER: 5 : BERSERK

Seriously, what can I say about Berserk that already hasn't been said on some level. But this manga is seriously, I feel one of the most top iconic series within manga as well as one of the most engaging, moving, fantastic, epic storyline I've read thus far. I know the series itself is still ongoing, and I've been keeping up-to-date with this story since reading the very first chapter. Hearing about Kentaro Miura death....was tough, I knew he had serious health issues, which is why volumes would tend to go on pretty long hatiuses... but man. Another influential iconic figure in manga gone, Berserk is definitely a series any manga-lover or anime fan should read once in awhile.

NUMBER: 6 : SHOUWA GENROKU RAKUGO SHINJUU

Not only one of the most beautifully mature, well-written, compelling storytelling I've seen thus far in an anime series. But as a manga, even more so, a well-crafted story on the life and times of a sad, burden-ridden, slightly bitter, depressed, old man known as Yakumo Yurakutei, who is a highly skilled and experienced master of Rakugo, which for those who don't know is an traditional Japanese verbal form of entertainment. Think of it as something like a form of Improv done by only one person playing different characters to tell a story, This series has many layers to its storytelling that's is done so well dealing with Yakumo and those in his life that has impacted him as to the type of pained almost broken old man he is within the present time. Just a overall good & bittersweet but fantastic story that's deserves to be check out more.

NUMBER: 7 : INNOCENT

It is one of the most beautifully drawn manga series that I have read so far while also being equally gruesome as well. Innocent is a fictionalized historical manga set during 18th century France about the story and legacy of Charles Henri Sanson (actual real historical figure), who is the fourth generation of a family of Executioners known as the Sanson family who are the royal Executioners of Paris. The story follows Charles rough journey towards his path of becoming the Monsieur De Paris. This absolutely such a fantastic piece of work, both in terms of the visually amazing stunning artwork and along with the historical storytelling of Charles coming to terms with his hated lineage and becoming Executioner of Paris but also showcasing the societal/political chaotic changes and upheaval of France slowly leading up to the French revolution. Although some historical aspects are obviously fictionalized, but still such a good series.

NUMBER: 8 : THE PROMISED NEVERLAND

While my feelings on the anime are highly mixed due to really, really, really not caring for the way they handled parts of the storytelling from season 2 of the anime series. But the manga, on the other hand, is a totally different story. Seriously, reading this series was a blast and just an enjoyable experience from beginning to end, as well as seeing Emma and Ray also Norman grow & and develop throughout each arc was great to witness including seeing the rest of the kids thrive and survive the outside world. For this manga was a great read, and definitely, I'll say at least personally to me was done far better then the second season flimsy adaptation.

NUMBER: 9 : HOMUNCULUS

Truly an mindfuck of a manga in more ways than one. But still a pretty damned good and wild story, Homunculus is a story about a homeless man named Susumu Nakoshi who ends up meeting a seemingly antagonistic young medical student named Itoh Manabu to do a little experiment on him by drilling a actual hole in his skull for a total of 700,000 ¥en. Itoh, who is very fascinated with studying the human minds and amongst other things such as ghosts and the occult, but ultimately he thinks he can unlock the hidden psychic potential of Susumu brain. Nakoshi goes through the process, and at first, nothing seems to happen after going through the the operation. Until he closes his right eye and starts seeing otherworldly nightmarish monsters and shapes with his left eye when he looks at other people. This series is truly a weird but also such a highly intriguing and fascinating psychological read while at the same time being a bit of a downer, but still an excellent but messed-up good story.

NUMBER : 10 : ATELIER OF WITCH HAT

Okay, so I just recently started reading this manga series not that long ago, about a couple of weeks ago, and now I'm so freaking hooked. Atelier of Witch hat has truly captured my heart and mind with its engaging and creatively fascinating world-building involving witches and magic to the just as highly interesting characters and storytelling. Which centers around our young protagonist Coco ( the girl on the cover) who is this super adorably passionate girl who has such a huge love for all things magical /witches and deeply wishes she could become one as well, but unfortunately normal people or "outsiders" can't become witches, you have to be born into it, but that's doesn't stop Coco from trying her hardest to still wanting to be a witch. One of the things I love most about this world and how it handles dealing with magic and witches is that magic is really normal within this world and how witches tend to uses it to help and serve regular people in need or even for lighting up a cobblestone pathway also I really like how the magic system is structured in this series, such as instead of casting spells or any from of magic with words or a phrase, magic is casted by drawing, Coco here ends up in a pickle with accidentally casting magic that ends up turning her mom into stone & thus Coco journey towards witchood begins.

Seriously, even though I've just recently gotten into this manga & and its ongoing tale it's already has captivated me on so many levels and I just can't get enough of it so far wonderful storytelling and amazingly beautiful drawn artsy apart of it which really adds a lot of this series fantastical elements. Definitely a must to check out!!

Wanted to do a list of a couple of some of my most top favorite manga series and ones were I feel other's should give them a shot at checking out if there into any of these stories. (^ _ ^)

[thelastbarricade]

Bloodhound Part 2:

Vacant

pt. 2 of ?

[ read on ao3 ]

summary:

"You think that if you burn down you'll be fine

and I'll forget all the times you lied." - 'VACANT' by Echoes

--

Your words echo in Cooper Howard’s thoughts.

‘Shoulda’ killed me when I was under, Coop’.’

Doesn’t he know it.

word count : 3.3k

tags: the ghoul x you, the ghoul x oc

warnings: violence, swearing, drug usage, emotional abuse, mutual pining, character study, multiple pov's (will add more as the story progresses)

notes:

Cooper's POV, more or less!

Say hello to my first fic attempt in...two years? Oh boy. All comments and feedback very much appreciated and feel free to hit me up in my messages and start a convo!

Narration and form may not be entirely polished so please pardon my dust.

xx korine <3

The stint he’s fashioned against his leg is a temporary fix at best. The tattered garb shoved deep into the gash is already swollen with fluids. If he keeps it in any longer it’ll just impart the healing further. Cooper relents.

Mirages danced across the dimming light above the sprawling sands just beyond Cooper Howard’s reach.

Fuck.

Daylight’s been on his side since you’d gone down sometime before dawn.

He couldn’t blame you. You didn’t know what whiskey, hell—a proper drink—was. Hadn’t the luxury of it in your short little life. When he’d come across a sealed shelf label bottle somewhere in the wastes trades, he’d jumped on it. Didn’t matter what it’d most likely (definitely) been cut with. The fire and flame coating his throat comforted all the same.

A perfect opportunity. For him or you, Cooper just couldn’t be sure anymore.

You’d enjoyed what taste you’d had. He was sure of it. The carefree curve your lips had softened into as your body began to give in to the pleasures of your drinks domestic pleasures. Pleasures a man like him was not near deserving enough of to bear witness to. But you’d been dropped into his lap like some twisted form of comfort and consequence.

A better man might not have obliged.

Cooper grinds out his complaints in hushed curses and heavy breaths as he climbs. The withering metal structures surrounding the perimeter of the building moan and groan, steps preceded by the low hum of the growing winds at his back. He shimmies his way across a deteriorating overhang leading into the next factory’s building over. The dunes covered his ascent and the mangled scraps of gutted warehouse roofing created a constant cover.

Cooper had only cleared a couple of hundred feet between the both of you.

Was he a fool to stay in such close proximity?

Of course.

Did he have another option?

The once-man-turned-ghoul eyed the wavering silhouettes of the wilds in the distance. If he was still in this wounded of a state when darkness fell—

He’d be a fuckin’ sittin’ duck.

Cooper sneers.

Nope, not an option. Didn’t matter how many bullets he’d have or how many he’d be able to take then. He knew when to make a move and when to wait out the storm. Literally. And mother Mary and all hells that hailed in-between—there would be a fuckin’ storm to be had.

—

The fiends you’d both encountered two nights ago had damn near carved his entire thigh down to bone with how deep their blade had dug. He’s lucky his flesh was kind enough to cling to him then. Not that he’d managed it alone. Of course you’d been there; calling him ‘grandpa’ and cursing reflexes of his you were convinced were slowing.

‘What would you’ve done without me?’ That sly fuckin’ smirk of yours was always tugging at your lips when you knew you’d had one over on him. It happened more than Cooper was willing to admit, and he’d only be willing to admit it when he was stone cold, turned over in his grave for the final time. At one point he had even toyed with the idea of you being the one to put him there.

But that was nothing more than a farce. A fairytale. Something to keep the loneliness lingering in the hearts of all who inhabited the surface, like Cooper, at bay.

A tale meant for ignorant children and self-righteous Vault dwellers.

Bitter to the bone and stubborn as a mule he was. He knew it, didn’t even try to deny it.

You’d put up with it for this long, hadn’t you?

It was then that he pictured you bound and writhing. Wounded temple still weeping because thick as you were, you’d gone and taken the brunt of a hit or two for him.

He told you to never stick your neck out for him—for anyone—ever.

Ever.

The look of betrayal in your eyes shouldn’t have even been a cause for pause, but he had. He’d fucking hesitated.

Canon fodder, Cooper’d said. As if words of that caliber were ever so simple. Easy.

It was like putting down a sick dog, in a way. At least that’s how he’d convinced himself of it—a mercy.

He hadn’t the heart to put the bullet in your head then, though. Not from the moment he’d laid eyes on you. Sickly little thing that you were. Starved and beaten, barely fit for exchange. Wrong end of a shit bargain he’d reckon. Not a surprise. He’d seen it before. You either found yourself strength in numbers in the Waste of became strong enough to cull the lot and likes around you.

Cooper had become the latter. Never was much of a team player, that one.

You on the other hand…

A knot twisted in his stomach.

Cooper would be lying to himself if he hadn’t asked himself and the higher powers above for that insight once or twice. Insight into how a sweet little thing, equally full of bark and bite, had landed yourself in Sorrel Bookers’ keeping.

Booker kept in line a gang of incompetents with little more prestige and skill than your average raider. The “Govermint” had considered you one of their assets at one point. Even his former associate Booker couldn’t be bid high enough on to elaborate. Cooper hadn’t pried into what had caused the tables to turn with you at the shit end of that stick. Not that you would have given him a real answer. He’d never been the type of man to give you one either.

All he knew was he had gotten his 200 caps worth. A small price to pay in the way of a break when it came to one of his bounties. You were sold to him like a dog—starting bid barely worth the sorry excuse for clothes on your back.

“This one’s worth more than fifty of her size and build. Only thing is she’s got a fuckin mouth on her. I’ll leave any ‘bodily modifications’ up to you though, Coop. Be warned, she bites.”

Booker had you bound and gagged in some shoddy storage room in one of his Govermint outfit stations. Your skin watercolored in bruises and superficial cuts in several stages of healing. Your eyebrow had been split sometime in the past day, knuckles bloodied and raw—no doubt a matching set to wounds some of Sorrels men now carried. Men Cooper had noticed lapping at their wounds and steeling away prides with swigs hooch on the way in.

Christ Almighty.

Cooper had remembered how precariously you’d eyed him as he’d stepped into view through the splintering door frame. He leaned in, unimpressed leer on his lips like always. You’d barely blinked as your gaze steadied on his. He thinks he remembers your eyes above all else from that day. Wide and dark, analyzing every movement of his. At one point it’d felt like a damned staring contest. Left the Ghoul feeling like he was the one being sized up and on trial. Not the other way around. You didn’t look afraid…didn’t show the faintest concept of repulsion towards him. You were fucking curious. Naive. A lost cause fallen into the very hands that would find themselves around your throat.

He should have put you out of your misery right then and there.

“I ain’t lookin’ for no pack mule, Booker.” Cooper had heard many a bargain in the way of women. Sorry souls caught up in even sorrier Wasteland body and labor exchange. He steered clear from these outfits for a reason. He wasn’t a good man by any means, but he also wasn’t without his own code of conduct.

“I’m in the business of one thing and so happens I’m in the middle of a job already.”

Cooper should have known he was signing onto some bad shit from the grimy grin Sorrel had given him then. He should have kept walking.

Sorrel Booker shoved you to your feet without a second though and puffed his chest out, hot-dogging you around like a god damn show pony.

“This one’s about to make yours a hell of a lot easier.”

Booker had even thrown in a free muzzle, for your troubles.

You had been a grim reminder for him of how dog-eat-dog worked in the Wasteland. Ghouls weren’t excluded from the order, either. Even a ghoul the likes of Cooper. Two centuries had come and gone with him and still he stood. Top of the food chain came with a price. You didn’t pay that price by makin’ friends. And you? Well, you’d been in debt it seemed; layin’ down with the dogs and here Cooper was washing you of your fleas.

That was four months ago now, give or take. You’d far repaid your caps in chems and vices alike in the first few weeks and here he’d left you alone: on an infested warehouse floor with fiends on both your heels.

Four months.

A fuckin’ eternity and a half for the smooth skins who survived it.

Cooper would know, but somehow it hadn’t been long enough for him to escape…this. These emotions.

You weren’t long for this world, darlin’, but Cooper Howard was. That’s just how it had to be. How it’d always been. Would be. Cooper Howard could be a sorry excuse for a man. It’s no wonder why the fates had designed it so that he no longer was one.

—

After circling the compound for what felt like decades the Ghoul settled own. Deciding to rest backed against a small alcove, right above a stoop of roof tiles obscured by fallen metal sheaths. A seasons worth of solidified sand stood to insulate either side of him from view.

It would have to do.

The suffocating humidity of falling rad-rain on the heated horizon began to kick up sheets of steam in the distance. Cooper lifted his gaze to view the turmoil brewing in the sky above. Dark matter overflowing with hues of vile greens and putrid yellows lurk uncomfortably close.

A tightness curled in his chest and clawed deep in his wretched depths. The Ghoul rummaged about his pack, makeshift atomizer gracing his fingertips. The little bubbled vial that sat atop was dangerously low on its contents. Empty vials clattered like wind chimes against his hip as he shoved them aside. The tepid yellow liquid sloshed and sputtered as Cooper drew in one deep breath.

It would have to do.

It would never be enough.

His lungs filled, expanded. Mind began to blur with days’ highs and lows…numbing them all. If just for a moment.

A moment.

Visions of soft doe-brown eyes and even softer curls crossed his vision.

‘Daddy, give the thumbs up, please! Just one more time.’ Janey’s toothy grin was faded in his memory, no longer near as sharp as the knife the thought alone wielded was.

Just one more time…

Cooper replayed the ghostly nudge of Roosevelt’s nose against his knee over coffee and a crisp morning paper.

The smell of Barb’s gardenia perfume wafting over a fresh cut cigar. Sunlight warms his skin through an open window. His wife’s freshly manicured nails tenderly teasing at his forearm. Lipstick staining his collar as she drew him nearer, arms wrapped around his waist to pull him closer—deeper.

The Ghoul tried his damnedest to remember the sound of their voices.

He bargains with what god cares to hear him.

Just a moment, please, one moment more.

Another voice barrels through the fog of his thoughts. The sands shift in the dunes overhead, metal creaking under a sudden shift in weight above.

“Times up, Coop.”

The heel of your boot slams against his temple, full weight knocking Cooper entirely sideway into the hardened walls of sand. He watches you shrug off your pack before he’s even able to draw on you. Quick little thing that you were.

A knee drives itself into his dominant shoulder, knocking his gun off trajectory and sending a stray bullet into the ground. Radroaches chitter and shriek somewhere in the dark abandon beneath you.

Your wild eyes meet his.

Gods of course you’d make it a fuckin’ ordeal.

You could never just go quietly, could you?

“You son of a—” He watches you lick your lips from above him. It’s picturesque.

Your bare knuckles connect against the sharp curves of his face: bone to flesh and back again. He feels the warmth seeping from your splitting skin and its apparent you’re not in the right mind too stop. Not that he wants you to.

Chems could only numb so much, and a kiss with a fist was better than none.

Cooper hisses when your knee finds itself bearing down on his injured thigh, other knee strewn diagonal to weigh down his shooting arm. You push away his weapon with little effort, hooking it on one of your belt loops as you straddle him roughly. Fingers find their way to his jaw as you observe him in slow like he had you. You slap at the Ghoul’s sunken cheeks, attempting to wake him from whatever daze had given you the element of surprise.

Cooper laughs and rolls his neck to ease the ache in his skull where you’d bludgeoned him.

“Little mutt,” He spits, smile betraying his venom. “They warned me you’d have some bite left in ya’.”

Your eyes dagger at his insult and Cooper notices the smirk about your lips evaporate. Cooper expects you to strike him. In all his months of knowing your true name he still reverted back to pet ones. Insults of ownership.

Instead he’s met with eyes that search his far longer and far deeper than he’d ever be fuckin’ comfortable with. He’s almost sure you catch his facade falter because you cock your head in thought just like he did when he noted something, and well—Cooper’s had just about enough of that.

He meets your weight with the tank that is his own. It was almost an insulting ease. Cooper towered over you in the sum of inches and pounds; muscles that had solidified over the course of two centuries. Nothing about him was soft any longer. Hadn’t been in a very long time. You knew this.

Your supple skin is heaven and hell beneath his hardened grasp. He flips your straddle with ease, shoving your legs between his, even in a wounded state. A gasp escapes your lungs as you orient yourself. He doesn’t even try to block your wrist when you snake it between the both of you; pitiful little pairing blade at his jugular like it’d do a damn thing.

One hand rests against the exposed length of your throat. His elbow buried deep in the soft connective tissue connecting your shoulder and upper arm as he pins it down. That ushers a whine from your lips.

Oh, What a burden it must be made of delicate living flesh, he muses to himself.

To feel like the consequences of your actions with every fiber of your being.

“Gonna’ come make good on yer’ threat there, darlin’?” He trails his free hand down the flare of your ribs, ghosting over your hip like a starved lover and then it settles: just over the barrel of his weapon you’d so kindly pocketed.

The flicker of a shadow dances in his peripheral, just behind the cover of a mound of sand.

Just a little closer.

Cooper scoffs as his gaze flickers down to yours.

“Or,” He cocks the gun against the warm sand. “you gonna’ make go through with mine?”

Cooper leans into the blade at his throat, drawing your chests closer together as he closes the distance between your beating hearts. He knows he’s won when your eyes linger on his lips for even a fraction of a second. The Ghoul smiles in his triumph, steadying the grip on his gun as the shadow teasing his vision shifts.

You tense.

He draws.

He feels you scream beneath him and it is of the things that shatter dreams.

If I’d been a better man…

The blade at his throat sinks in instinctively and the Ghoul couldn’t have blamed you even if he wanted to.

I’d be afraid of me too.

He grits his teeth and his free hand releases your throat.

Your breath heaves beneath him and you scramble out from under his weight when you realize the bullet not been meant for you.

The body of the fiend not more than five feet from the both of you slumps to the ground into a pile of its own brain matter.

You’re shaking. He sees it. Adrenaline pumping and confusion beginning to settle in—

What Cooper was not expecting, however, was the elbow that connected with his jaw just then.

Your elbow.

He lets out the smallest of surprised scoffs and licks at his lips.

Yeah, he’d deserved that too.

He’s almost proud of you.

“COOPER?!?!” The Ghoul watches as you scream your demand of him. Bewildered and shaken you stand. Doubled over—weighing your hands on your thighs to keep upright as the fight or flight leaves your body through bleary eyes.

Cooper takes its all.

Your hesitance, your rage—your indignance and your pain.

Turns and faces you like its nothing to him at all.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

There’s a hint of desperation on your tongue.

‘Just tell me, please.’ Cooper can almost hear you begging, but you won’t. Not here. Not like this.

He pulls the small blade from his throat, wincing with a flick of his chin as he throws it to the sands before you both. You pause and Cooper grimaces. He motions to the blade, signaling he wants you to pick it up. To Cooper’s surprise and utter fucking dismay, you do. Almost without a second thought.

He watches you tuck it into your pants pocket, diverting those ever watching eyes back to him. Like you saw something he couldn’t.

Why?

Why are you like this?

“Grab your shit.” He growls out. “We’re moving.”

You don’t move, though. You just stare. Doe-eyed like the fraudulent fawn you were.

“Git’!” He clicks his tongue in annoyance. Not at you, not entirely.

That lone fiend Cooper had shot down had been a scout and it was clear to him now that the others wouldn’t be far behind. Fiends usually never tracked their prey through the dunes for half near this long. Just both of your’s fuckin’ luck.

But you wouldn’t know that would you? How could you? Cooper protected you from far too much. Even things that would kill you.

Cooper could smell trouble brewing on the horizon closer than he’d been prepared for. Something wasn’t right and it was his job to figure out what. Even if it meant you resenting him for the time being. He’d been more comfortable with contempt anyway. It fit him like an old glove and embraced him like a familiar lover, no strings attached.

“I hate you.” There’s a resound defeat in your voice.

Cooper nods in slow, jaw clenched. He knows your tired. Sees it in your face and hears it in your voice. He’d spent all these months dragging you through the dessert with promises that never came and made you compromise on every value you held dear that he could. With no end in sight.

He’d just been selfish to let you go.

And you? You’d been too scared to leave.

Scared of what?, he constantly wondered.

What lay out there between the dunes and ruin that could possibly chase you back into the likes of the man like him…time and time again?

Your words echo in Cooper Howard’s thoughts.

‘Shoulda’ killed me when I was under, Coop’.’

Doesn’t he know it.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

The Good Die Young

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of graphic themes, war, injury, weapons, sexual images, language, 18+. Pairings: Jake Seresin × f!reader. Disclaimer: This is a series reflecting on the true events of the US Marines in WW2. All of the characters are fictional and not based off are original characters (except for Jake Seresin) and they are not representations of the real, brave men who fought in WW2. I have tried to make all the events in this series as accurate as possible but please bare in mind this is fanfiction and i have added/ changed certain things to fit with this.

December 1943

Dearest Jake,

I can’t believe it has been four months since you left us. It feels like only yesterday that you were here, safe in my arms. I can’t even begin to imagine what you are going through. I hear reports on the news and from the papers that things are bad but I believe no man can sum up what it is like if he had not been in the war himself. I have seen the brotherhood you have formed first-hand and the love that you share for each other. I only hope your love for each other is enough to get you through what is to come.

The papers bring the never-ending news of the war. I am kept busy with new articles. The latest being the death toll. With each name and age I write down my heart breaks a little more. I fear that most of them are no more than boys - just children really. Not even old enough to buy alcohol and yet they are old enough to fight for a war they do not understand. I fear that this war is far from over, I wish I could bring better news on that front.

We are both doing well here though. My tiny bump has started to show and Fern keeps making fun that soon my clothes will not fit me but I do not mind. This little one is a part of you that I carry with me always and will continue to do so until you return to me and we can be a family at last.

I hope you can celebrate Christmas wherever you are. I don’t have many plans for Christmas, it doesn’t seem right celebrating it when you are stuck in some foxhole or on a ship god knows where.

My heart aches for you, my love. I pray each night for your safe return.

Yours always

Y/n

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To my dearest Y/n,

You do not know how much relief I felt to receive your letter. Your words are my light in these dark times.

Christmas here on the ship is not the same as at home. We had a hearty Christmas dinner and sang some carols but I’d much rather have been with you than stuck here. As you can imagine, the company of George and Frank for Christmas Day doesn’t compare to you.

Edward drew me a picture of you for Christmas. The picture you sent me ended up getting coffee split on it by Frank one morning and was ruined. He’s drawn you almost from memory. I never realised how good of an artist he was but his talents are wasted here. Now I can cherish a drawing of you, close to my heart as always.

I hope you're safe this Christmas. I hope you can enjoy it with your friends and if I don’t get to write to you again, I hope you have a good new year.

I miss you Y/n. I miss you every day but just know that you are what gets me through each day, the thought of you and our child is all I need to help me through.

Yours always

Jake

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New Britain - December 1943

Jake flinched, smacking his neck as he killed another mosquito. “Fucking things!” He protested as George laughed at him, the cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth.

“What ‘ave you got to laugh about Lover Boy? Still writing letters to Florence?” Jake craned his neck to see the letter but George quickly stuffed it into his pocket, along with the drawing of Florence that Edward had done for Christmas. “None of your damn business, Cowboy.”

It turned out that Edwards' gift to everyone had been a drawing. Most of them were of the girls they loved but for Johnny, Edward had drawn his spaniel, Daphne. Johnny was over the moon and was no longer bothered by the others' teasing when it came to Daphne. ‘You’ll see what I mean when you meet her boys. She’s quite the catch.’

The pair laughed as George stood to help Jake tie the last rope for their canopy around the tree, it wasn’t much but at least it would keep the worst of the rain off them. The hope of keeping dry in the jungle was limited and once the rain began, the heavens opened and it poured for hours. Most nights Jake barely slept, too busy watching the rain fall and listening to the noise of the forest to sleep.

“What are you reprobates doing?” Frank boomed, jokingly stalking over to his fellow Marines. “You think it’s funny so you.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the pair, a new cigarette balanced behind his ear ‘For later’ he always said but it would often fall out and be lost somewhere along the way.

Jake only laughed, “Don’t worry Sarge, you're still number one.” Frank laughed, smacking Jake on the back heartily.

“Congratulations Cowboy, looks like the Marine Corps did make something out of you after all.”

Jake shook his head. He’d recently been promoted to Staff Sergeant and it had brought with it a never-ending string of teasing comments from his friends, all meant in the usual joking fashion.

“How’s that girl of yours doing?” Frank asked smugly. He’d been the first to find out Y/n was pregnant and after the initial congratulations he followed with a never ending line of ‘Bun in the Oven’ jokes.

“Should have put a ring on her first, Cowboy.” Really though Frank was happy for him, the thought of a baby filled the group with hope for the future.

“Well I’m sorry to break up the party fellas but just because you're on machine guns doesn’t mean you're missing out on the patrol. Mortar squads are going too so I want you two with Shorty and Mary.”

“You got it, Harvard,” Jake swung his Springfield over his shoulder, lending George a hand and pulling him to his feet. “Let’s go catch us some Japs.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain trickled down through the canopy, soaking the thin, mesh blanket that covered the lower half of Jake’s body. He groaned, rolling onto his side and watching as a single stream of water dripped into the large, muddy swell that surrounded the tent. The murky water reflected the moon, rippling it across the puddle with each gust of wind. Jake watched it sadly, wondering whether Y/n were looking at the same moon. He often wondered what she was doing, whether she would be eating breakfast or going to work or out with her friends. His life here felt so distant from the life he had with her.

“JAPS! THEIR COMING!” It always amazes Jake what came after those three words. Men dashed to their posts half awake, half-dressed and unable to form a coherent sentence but could fire off a round of mortars like it was nothing. Jake grabbed the barrel of the Browning Machine Gun whilst George posited the baseplate along the tree line. Neither of them cared how wet they were getting now, their helmets creating a shield against the worst of the rain but still allowed it to run over the rim and straight down their backs, soaking down into their trousers.

“MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!” Jake and George sat in complete silence, their eyes scanning the tree line at the edge of the clearing. Jake could hear his heart beating loudly in his ear, the rhythmic thudding keeping in time with his breathing.

“THEIR HERE!” And with that, the bullets start flying. Jake let out a cry as he squeezed the trigger, allowing the short burst of ammunition to fly into the darkness, an orange glow lighting the treeline as the bullets were fed through the gun. Between the shouts of other Marines, mortar pounding the earth and the gunfire Jake could hear his heartbeat increasing in time with the Browning's fire.

The fight was almost over before it began. “CEASE FIRE!” Jake’s ears were ringing, he rested his head against George’s shoulder who hugged him back. He never realised the bond he’d have between him and his fellow machine gunner but he could imagine being here without him. He pulled out his padded glove, lifting the now burning hot barrel of the machine gun from the plate. Jake wouldn’t be surprised if they’d need a replacement barrel for it soon, the number of rounds it had fired for them over time was impressive if not hellish at the same time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Y/n,

I am afraid to say we lost Johnny last week. There was an attack in the middle of the night. I don’t know how it happened but I found him the next morning when we were clearing the bodies. I’ve never lost one of my friends before but to see him so lifeless, so deathly pale. Y/n I don’t know how any of us are going to make it out alive.

The group hasn’t been the same since. Frank is in a foul mood, he blames himself I think but he doesn’t want to admit that. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. The damn Japs will have hell to pay the next time How Company gets near them.

He had the picture of Daphne clasped in his fingers. I’ve kept it. I wasn’t able to throw it away so I sent it with this letter. I hope you will keep it safe for me.

We’ve left New Britain now. I don’t know where we are going but our group is stretched thin. We look worse each day and I don’t know how much more of this we can stand to take.

George is doing alright. He and I keep to ourselves mostly. He writes to Florence often and she writes back. He’s officially invited us to his wedding back in the States when the war is over. I don’t know where you want to live after the war but maybe we could visit my hometown while we are there. I know my Ma would love to meet you, she’s heard all about you (only good things I promise)

I miss you Y/n. I’ll miss you until you're in my arms again.

Yours always

Jake

Taglist: @wkndwlff @a-reader-and-a-writer @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @airedale17 @shadowolf993 @topguncultleader @callmemana @t-nd-rfoot @desert-fern @cherrycola27 @green-socks @jstarr86 @starkleila @alexxavicry @floralfloyd @soulmates8 @depressed-friend-blog @mayhemmanaged @shanimallina87 @bcon24 @books-are-escapes @dakotakazansky @memeorydotcom @mads-nixon @iceman-kazansky

[bobafett]

stealing this because the boops made me realize how much i miss tag games.

How many works do you have on AO3? A grand total of 14. I am not a prolific writer.

What’s your total AO3 word count? 63,880. Please see above answer.

What fandoms do you write for? Batman and Star Wars. I have a little bit of Supernatural fic posted on an alt account, and I've been turning over an idea for an OW fic in my head for a while, but it takes me a long time to figure out how to write in a fandom in a way that still captures the "vibes" of the source material (which is always one of my goals). So I rarely branch out.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? New Cornerstone (suitless!Vader AU from a million years ago), Brothers in Arms (Jon starts to get an inkling that his best friend has perhaps not had a normal childhood), Setting the Bone (Selina Kyle: reluctant parental figure), In This Twilight (Damian and Jason brotherly bonding, first batfam fic I ever wrote), and Try to Sweep the Darkness Out (batfam Christmas special that I've almost orphaned 10 times because I hate the writing choices I made in it so much). None of the fics I'm actually proud of are on this list. Tragic.

Do you respond to comments? Irregularly and unpredictably! I will if I feel like I have something to say and it catches me in the right mood.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Uh, that would be High Water Mark since it starts with a scene of Cody contemplating suicide and ends with the instant right before Order 66 kicks in.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably Problem Solving since it's the only fic I've ever written where I was actually trying to be light hearted.

Do you get hate on fics? Never, thankfully.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? If I thought I could do it successfully, I would. But I'm not, so I don't.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Basically never. There is a Doctor Who/Sherlock fic buried on my old FF.net account. There's also a Super Smash Bros fic on there that I wrote in 2009, which I suppose also counts.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? I can't imagine why anyone would.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, and I never would. I'm too much of a control freak about my writing. Writing, say, shared universe stuff might be fun, but actually co-authoring something would drive me nuts.

What’s your all time favorite ship? What a question. I come back to Jaime/Brienne a lot for reading, but I don't think I'd ever write it. I write a ton of BatCat, but rarely read it because I'm particular. I like Lois/Clark, but I almost never write OR read it. I'm honestly not very ship motivated. Most of the time I filter for a ship because I'm in the mood for its attendant tropes, and if the writing is good, you can sell me on just about anything.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Hmngh. New Cornerstone again. There's 20k of an expanded version of it on my hard drive that I haven't added to since probably 2017. There's something very fun about suitless!Vader as a character because he's such a sparking, destructive livewire of a person, but also I'm experienced enough now to realize how difficult doing justice to that premise is. Also, I'd have to rewatch TCW to get Ahsoka's voice down, and I just don't got time for that shit.

What are your writing strengths? Description and sense of place. Also pretty good at dialogue.

What are your writing weaknesses? Fucking. Long fic. Plot in general. I'm horrifically bad at it.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I'm usually inclined to keep all my dialogue in English, but it would depend on the context and the effect I was going for.

First fandom you wrote for? Purposefully? Inuyasha. Without having any idea what fanfic was? I created an Artemis Fowl fairy OC and stuck her in Indiana Jones when I was 10 years old.

Favorite fic you’ve written? They Don't Sing Songs For Me. No contest. It's perfectly captures what I think is the ideal form of fanfic: two characters who have absolutely no business interacting with each other building a compelling relationship dynamic over the course of 9k words.

I will be tagging @panharmonium, @apostatefrog, @dead-ghost-walking, @ryehouses, @yellowocaballero, @lazuliquetzal. Also anyone else who wants to. I will bring back tag games by force of will, so help me God.

[thevelria]

Emerald (ErenxReader) Chapter 1 -First day

It's a chaotic romance between you and Eren. You got a new job in an office, where most of the AOT characters are your coworkers. And Levi is your boss… It's a story about struggling in the world of being adults. Because man…sometimes it sucks to be one.

Contains swearing, drinking alcohol, using drugs and a lot of lemon etc Warnings are at the beginning of a chapter.

Enjoy~

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Author's note: 22.000+ characters

It's a long ass chapter to start with, contains swearing, drinking alcohol etc. Enjoy~

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The alarm on your nightstand was screaming mercilessly. Your eyes slowly opened as you tried to reach and to make it shut the hell up.

-5 more minutes -you growled with half opened eyelids.

But you knew you had to get up right now, because if you gave in and pressed the snooze you would have been sleeping late til the afternoon.

-I hate being an adult -you whined, grabbing the device and finally turning the alarm off. You yawned, pressing the back of your hand against your tired eyes, slowly sitting up and turning to the edge of the bed. You tapped the floor carefully with your right foot, after with the left one. You did this on purpose, it was the ritual you made every single morning before starting your day. First right, then left foot...if you missed it and somehow forgot it, you knew your whole day was going to be fucked up. This is one of the many clicks you had, but you didn't mind it at all.

-I already hate this job -you hummed in the bathroom, getting ready for your first day at the office.

You've been working for years for a company you hated from the bottom of your heart, but you had the best colleagues ever, so you stayed. But last month you had enough, the last drop in your already almost full cup and you rushed to your boss' office "Fuck this shit and mostly fuck you! -you screamed into her face- I quit! -you walked out, slamming the door behind you"

Even if you felt relieved you already knew you would have needed to find something else, since no one was paying for your bills, for your flat, for your life, but you.

-Is it late to find a sugar daddy? -you wondered, while putting on some makeup.

In 30 minutes you were ready to leave, grabbed the car key and took a deep breath before leaving. Traffic was horrible in the morning in the city and even if you knew you got pissed every single time.

-I can't fucking believe I'm going to be late on my first day -you slammed your head against the driving wheel, nervously tapping your nails on it, waiting at a red light. A loud honk made you jump.

-What the fuck are you waiting for? GO! -someone yelled from the car behind you. You pulled a face and as a diva you reached your hand out of the window, flipping the bird, while moving the car.

-Fucking moron -you hummed under your nose- How much I hate people, damn it -you kept cursing.

You were kinda antisocial, okay we can say you were way too antisocial. Friends? Only a few, but you didn't mind it at all. Boyfriend or even a husband? Nah...don't be ridiculous. Even if your parents nagged you all the time you felt fine just the way you were.

As you pulled out at the parking lot, you looked in the mirror one more time.

-Let's get this shit done -you sighed, finally stepping out of the car.

***

After you finished at the HR you headed to the 3rd floor as you were told. Tapping your foot nervously in the elevator, waiting for the loud ding sound.

-Okay, what did she say? -you frowned your brows- Which door...ahh why the heck can't I pay attention just for once -you rolled your eyes.

You were standing in the corridor trying to figure out where to go, when one of the doors shot open and a dark cherry red haired girl walked out with an apple in her hand.

-Hey! -she greeted you with a huge smile on her face- First day?

-Hello, uhm yeah -you cracked a half smile awkwardly.

-Show me your paper, I can help you -she stepped next to you, checking your documents already -Oh! You are our new girl -she laughed cheerfully. -Come with me I'll guide you to your table.

-Thank you -you nodded.

-By the way I'm Sasha -she held out her hand for a shake.

-I'm Y/N -you said, accepting the offer.

-You will LOVE it here -she sounded way too excited- I'm going to show you around, okay? Just give me a second I need to pee first -she giggled- This is your table. Sit down and wait for me, okay? I'll be quick -she ran away.

-Wow...that was intense -your eyes widened, processing the energy of Sasha- I could never be this happy in the morning -you smiled under your nose.

-Good morning -you heard a low voice from behind your back.

-Good morning -you turned around, facing a muscled, blonde man in front of you.

-First day? -he smirked.

-Yep! -you nodded.

-I'm Reiner -he stepped closer, holding his hand out.

-Nice to meet you, Reiner. I'm Y/N.

-You will love it here.

-You are the second person telling me this...it's a bit suspicious -you laughed.

-I could say RUN, but I don't want to scare you away immediately -he chuckled.

-Oh, Reiner -Sasha tapped him on the back- I hope you didn't scare her away.

-Nah, it's not that easy to make me run -you smirked.

-Great! -she laughed out loud- Come! I'm going to show you around and let you meet everyone. The boss is not in yet, though. You can meet him later -she grabbed your arm, pulling you next to her.

Sasha and you were walking around in the office. It looked as friendly as an office can be. Beige painted walls with some dark gray, some posters with motivational phrases hanging lazily everywhere. There were several tables, like 10 or even more, you couldn't count it, because Sasha was literally rushing through the whole room. They looked somehow cozy, flower pots, pictures in frames and daily stuff laying on them, showing someone is definitely living their lives at them.

-Okay, this is Connie, he's responsible for selling the international transports-she pointed at a guy, who was already wearing his air pods, tapping the rhythm with his leg -CONNIE! -Sasha yelled, making the man jump.

-What the fuck, Sasha! -he growled, taking out one of his air pods- Oh... -he looked surprised when he noticed you.

-Nice to meet you, I'm Connie -he stood up from his chair in an instant.

-I'm Y/N -you smiled at him- Sorry for bothering.

-Nah, I was playing solitaire anyway -he laughed.

-As always -Sasha rolled her eyes.

-Shut up, Sash -he scratched the back of his head.

-Let's go -Sasha grabbed you again.

-This is Jean -she stopped at a table, where a quiet handsome man was sitting. He looked up from his laptop, noticing you -He's doing the inland selling.

-Good morning, you must be the new girl -he eyed you up and down- I'm Jean.

-God, could you behave? -Sasha shook her head.

-What? What did I do? - he looked confused.

-Nothing -you laughed slightly, accepting his hand for a shake- I'm Y/N.

-What a shame, Sasha met you first. I could have shown you around as well -he smirked.

-For fuck's sake -Sasha growled, walking away from his table.

-There are some colleagues, who are on a holiday now. But you will meet them anyway soon -she kept bubbling- I think that's it for now. You will need to see the boss, when he finally gets in. Not that we miss him, though -she giggled.

-Oh, okay -you smiled, when you noticed one more guy in the corner, wearing all black clothes and a lazy man bun. Looking...annoyed?!

-Who's him? -you pointed at him.

-Uhh, that's Jaeger...he's an ass nowadays. He's getting a divorce and is out of control. I think it's wiser if you just ignore his presence for now -she faked a smile.

-Alright -you shrugged your shoulders.

On your way to your desk a short, but really attractive man walked in. The black suit followed his toned body well enough, his raven black hair fitted him perfectly. His jawline could cut the air with ease.

-Good morning everyone! -he raised his voice- I hope you already work at the tasks, or else... -he growled.

You froze in your action, when he made eye contact with you, eyeing you up and down.

-You -he pointed at you- new girl. Office! Now! -he rushed into his separate office in the room.

-Holy shit -your eyes widened. He looked truly terrifying.

Standing in front of his desk, you felt your palm become moisty. You never felt this before, but damn you had some really tough bosses so far. But this man...even looking at him made you shit your pants. He was truly something else.

-I'm Levi -he sat down into his huge ass leather boss chair, opening up his laptop- Why are you still standing? Sit down... -he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

-Uhm, okay -you did as he told you- I'm Y/N L/N -you offered your hand for a shake, but meeting his disgusted look, you pulled back your hand in an instant.

-I know -he hummed- I heard you have experience in the logistic area.

-Yes, sir. I've been working for a similar company for years.

-Good -he was staring at the laptop's screen- Choose someone out there and they will show you the things we do in here. But I want you to be able to work alone at the end of the week, got it? I only need people who learn fast and work well.

-Yes, sir -you nodded.

-That's all -he waved. But as you sat still he took a deep, annoyed breath- GO! -he rolled his eyes.

-You okay? -Sasha rushed to your desk the second you sat down.

-You could have said he's a freaking Stalin -you growled- Fuck, that guy is terrifying.

-I know right...just wait when he finds something to blame us. His shout can still freak me out, even if I work here for 3 years now -she laughed out loud- So who do you choose?

-How do you know... -you asked, but then you realized you were not the first new person here- Uhm would you mind?

-Oh I would LOVE to show you the things we do here. Come to my desk, bring a notebook and a pencil, so you can take some notes. And some snacks, we will definitely need them -she said strictly.

After hours of trying to get into the system, seeing the programs, listening to Sasha and taking notes, you felt you needed a break.

-Can we take a quick break? I need a coffee.

-Sure, I'll show you the kitchen -she jumped up, rushing through the room.

-How can she have this freaking much energy -you kept wondering, following her.

-Okay, mugs are here -she opened a cabinet- Coffee machine...Y/N, Y/N...coffee machine -she pointed at the device then back at you. -This little guy -she tapped the top of it- will be your best friend -she giggled- Just make your coffee as you wish, milk in the fridge over there. I'll be right back, but I need to use the restroom -she disappeared.

You took a deep breath, trying to cope with the situation. Opening the cabinet and grabbing the first mug you reached. The smell of the hot, fresh coffee made you drool. After adding some milk and sugar to it, you were standing, circling the coffee with the spoon, zoning out a tiny bit.

-That's my mug -you heard a low, annoyed voice, which snapped you back to reality.

-Sorry, what? -you asked confused.

-I said it is my mug -he hissed at you, pointing at the black cup in your hand.

-Oh my God -you blushed in embarrassment- I didn't know, Sasha said...

-Yeah, I don't care -he cut you mid sentence- Next time use your own fucking mug- he pulled a face, searching for a mug for himself in the cabinet.

-Sorry -you felt uncomfortable- I'm Y/N by the way -you smiled at him, trying to be nice.

-So what? -he shrugged.

-Okay... -you rolled your eyes- It was really nice to meet you, Jaeger -you walked past him out of the kitchen.

-Wait! How do you know my name? -he asked, but you headed back to Sasha's desk without a word.

-What a fucking moron -you thought to yourself.

-You okay? -Sasha stood in front of you- You didn't wait for me.

-Sorry. I had some mug crisis in the kitchen -you faked a smile.

-Fuck... -she looked at the cup in your hand- It's my bad, I forgot to tell you not to use that it's Jaeger's one.

-Yeah, he made it clear too -you took a sip of the coffee.

-I truly am sorry, I'm sure he was a dickhead.

-Yup -you laughed- But don't worry I worked with way worse people. I can handle him with ease. So where were we -you asked, looking back at her monitor's screen.

The rest of the day rushed away and you realized it's already 16:30. Everyone was shutting down their laptops, getting ready to head out.

-We will get a drink at the bar, wanna join? -Sasha asked you, packing her stuff.

-Oh, I don't know -you stood up.

-C'mon girl...it's a team building -she winked at you.

-Fine, one drink -you nodded.

-Yo, Jaeger! -you heard Reiner shouting across the room- Monday beer session?

-Yup! -he stretched his hands out wide, yawning big.

-Connie, Jean? -Reiner yelled in the other direction too.

-Sure thing! -Connie grabbed his jacket.

-Of course! -Jean nodded.

As you were packing your stuff at your desk, Jean stopped, smiling at you.

-I hope you come too.

-Yeah, sure -you took a quick peak at him, then back at your things.

-Cool -he smirked.

Sasha tried to fill you with the information about this Monday drinking tradition. Every Monday they choose a different bar to drink at. Mostly something nearby and with catering.

-It must have a kitchen -she said strictly- Otherwise I'm not going. No food, no Sasha -she chuckled.

-Can you give me the address, where I should meet you guys? -you asked, taking your phone from your pocket.

-We go with one car -she chirped- We play rock, paper, scissors and the loser is the driver.

-Oh, I see...makes sense though. Actually I can be the driver, I don't really feel like drinking any alcohol today -you shrugged.

-Really? -she looked suspicious.

-Yup.

-Fuck, that's awesome! Guys! -she yelled- Y/N's gonna be the driver today!

-We didn't even play yet -Connie looked confused, walking up to you two.

-No need -you smiled- I don't wanna drink tonight. You guys can have fun.

-I like you! -Connie tapped you on the shoulder.

-Thanks -you laughed.

Standing outside in the parking lot you realized your car wouldn't be big enough for all of you. But after Sasha threw you the key of one of the company's transporters you felt relieved. It would have been way too awkward to leave out somebody...actually no, you would have loved to leave Jaeger here.

-Y/N -Jean stepped next to you- Did Sash tell you, you will need to drive us home?

-Sorry, what? -you looked surprised.

-Since we all leave our cars here...

-Ohh -you imaginary facepalmed yourself for offering to be the driver- And tomorrow? How will you get to work?

-Nah, we just catch a cab, no big deal -he shrugged.

***

The bar looked pretty familiar, you were sure you've been here before. The room was separated by boxes with huge tables and leather covered, U shaped club chairs. The light was rather dark, like a place for a Friday night party, definitely not for a few drinks to have. But all in all you liked it.

-First round on me -Jean took off his jacket, walking up to the counter- Y/N -he turned back- what do you want to drink?

-I have no idea -you chuckled- I better go there with you to check.

-Sure -he winked at you- Come, sweetheart.

You rolled your eyes, smiling but followed him anyway. It took you like a minute to decide.

-I'll take a tonic, please -you said to the bartender.

-Eww -Jean pulled a face- You could not pay me enough to drink that shit -he laughed.

-I like it -you shrugged.

After you got your tonic, you helped Jean to take the 5 glasses of beer to your table. Actually you brought your drink and one beer, the rest were in Jean's hands.

-So -he put the glasses down- Who wants to play pool with me? The table here looks quite dope.

-Coming -Connie stood up immediately, grabbing one of the glasses.

-Next is me and Reiner! -Sasha jumped up, grabbing one glass and handing another to Reiner- Wanna watch? -she turned to you.

-Nah, I'm okay. I'll sit here a bit then will head after you guys.

-Jaeger, please behave -Sasha turned to him, shooting a dead stare.

He didn't respond, but rolled his eyes, taking the last glass of beer from the table. The air started to feel heavier and heavier because of the awkward silence. Neither him nor you said a single thing to each other, both of you stared at the rest of you, playing and laughing. You already regretted not going with Sasha immediately, but you didn't want to look too desperate, so you stayed.

-I'm sorry -he turned to you after a while.

-Huh? -you looked at him.

-I was an asshole this morning. You didn't know...

-Ohh, okay. Thanks -you faked a smile- It's not going to happen again.Tomorrow I will bring my own mug.

-By the way I'm Eren... -he took a big sip from his beer- But they all call me Jaeger.

-Alright -you nodded, turning back to look at the others.

-I really didn't want to be rude -he sighed.

You felt so awkward, didn't know how to handle the situation. The guy looked so burned out, but it wasn't your problem at all. On the other hand you didn't want to be an ass, he apologized after all.

-Don't worry, really... -you waved- We all have bad days.

-Bad months...years -he cracked a painful smile.

-Sasha told me, you have difficulties, I can understand you -putting down your now empty glass on the table.

-Huh, I doubt that -he hummed, shaking his head slightly- Want one more drink? -he changed the subject.

-Sure. Next one's on me then.

You helped Eren to bring the beers to the others, while they were still playing, now at two tables next to each other.

-You are such a fucking loser, Reiner -Shasha laughed out loud, defeating the blond one for the third time.

-Okay. I want a change -he rolled his eyes.

-Don't be a pussy -she kept teasing him.

-I am not! But...Y/N wanna play with me? -he turned to you.

-Sorry, I don't know how to -you smiled awkwardly.

-I can teach you -Eren said with a bored look on his face- There's a free table over there.

-Jaeger, stop hitting on the new girl -Jean walked up to you- I'm a better teacher than him anyway -he winked at you.

-Fucking hell Jean, I'm just trying to be nice -he hissed annoyed.

-Thanks both of you, but no thanks. I'm a great audience on the other hand -you chuckled.

After hours of playing, chatting and drinking and Sasha eating almost the whole menu you all decided it would be time to head home.

-Sooooo -Connie walked up next to you, throwing his hand around your shoulder- Could you please drop me home first?

-Sure, no big deal.

-No way, Springer! -Sasha yelled- You live the farest from here, you're gonna be the last one.

-Oh, I didn't know -you laughed- Who's gonna be the first then?

-No! -Connie hummed offended- Jaeger is the last one.

Jean, Reiner, Sasha, Connie and finally Eren. You felt freaking tired and didn't even understand why you agreed to do this. It was almost midnight on a Monday night, you knew you were going to be super sleepy and grumpy the next day.

-It's the next corner, left -Eren said as he was the last one in the car. After Connie got out, he decided to take the passenger seat, not make it look like you were his driver or something. But actually you were.

-Alright -you nodded.

As you pulled out in front of the house he told you to, you were drumming on the wheel with your fingers.

-Uhm, Y/N -he turned to you, instead of sliding out.

-Yeah? -you raised one of your eyebrows.

-Could you... -he took a deep breath- could you please take me to a hotel?

-What?

-I just don't want to go in...I'm so fucking tired and she won't leave me alone. -he shook his head, closing his eyes.

-Actually it's fine by me, just decide what you want to do, because I do want to go home and sleep in my bed -you laughed out loud.

-Can you take me to Hotel Shina, please? -he clenched his jaw.

-Sure -you started the car and left without any hesitation.

On the way to the hotel you looked at him from the corner of your eye. He did look exhausted, you kinda felt sorry for him, but since it was the first day you met him, didn't really know how to handle the situation. Should you say something? Ask him about it? Or just drop it.

-Wanna talk about it? -you asked finally.

-Not really, but thanks.

Great, now you looked like an idiot, of course he wouldn't talk about his problem to a complete stranger. Congrats Y/N! You shook your head annoyed and he probably noticed it.

-I don't want to bore you with my problems. That's all -he kept looking out the window.

-I'm just trying to be nice, you know -you shrugged- You don't have to say anything you don't want to -you slowed down the car and was about to pull out in front of the hotel.

-I know -he sighed- Hey -he looked at you- Want a drink? This hotel's bar is awesome -he tried to laugh.

-Uhm, it's late...

-Just one!

-Okay, but just one -you stopped the car, taking out the key.

The hotel looked fancy. Even if you saw it from outside several times before, you have never been inside before. A huge hall with big ass brown rugs on the ground, gold framed pictures hanging on the wall and a lot of people running around, handling everything the customers ask.

-Hello, Mr Jaeger -the receptionist greeted Eren- Your usual room is free, if you fancy.

-Hey, Thomas. Yes it's gonna be perfect.

After he got the room key, he turned and waved you to follow him to the bar.

-You come here often? -you asked.

-Pretty much, yeah.

-Is it that bad at home?

-You have no idea -he laughed with so much bitterness in his voice- Can't wait to finally get free from that psycho bitch.

-Oh... -your eyes widened at his comment.

After you sat down at an empty table he left for the counter for drinks without a word.

-Sorry, I didn't ask you, but I thought you wanted a tonic anyway -he smiled, placing the glass in front of you.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that you were already sick from it. But one more or less it didn't matter anyway.

-Sure, thanks! -you yawned a bit.

-Sorry for not letting you sleep -he pulled out his chair, dropping himself lazily.

-Tomorrow -you looked at your phone- better said today I will be grumpy as fuck. And it's gonna be all your fault -you laughed.

-I can live with that -he giggled- At least I'm not going to be the only asshole in the office.

-If you know you are one why don't you just...you know not being one -you raised your eyebrows.

-Are you a therapist or something?

-Nah, if I would, then you should pay me a lot for listening to you talking -you took a sip from your drink slowly.

-Fair enough -he smiled, shaking his head slightly.

-So, what's your job in there? Sasha didn't want me to meet you in the morning, because she was afraid you were going to be a dick with me. But as we know... -you poked your tongue against your cheek.

-Yeah, yeah I know, I'm sorry -he held his hands up in defense- I'm doing the same as Reiner.

-Actually I have no idea what he's doing -you frowned your brows, realizing Sasha never told you and you didn't even ask.

-Coordinating the transports, all of them, but you should know that...

-What do you mean?

-Since we got a shit load of more work you will be the third one doing it. So prepare yourself for the plus hours. We always finish late, mostly late at night. Today was a miracle that we could leave in time.

-Nah, please say you are lying -you sighed desperately.

-Levi didn't tell you?

-No and I hoped I could have something, well you know... less stressful shit to do.

-Uhm, you know this job is fucking stressful no matter what, right? -he raised one of his eyebrows.

-Shut up -you laughed. But he was right and you knew it as well, you worked in this area for so long and it never ever got easier. However it paid well and you had some expensive hobbies...

-Fuck it's almost 4am -you looked terrifed at your phone screen- Sorry Eren, but I really need to go home now. And sorry for tomorrow, because I already know I'm gonna be a freaking dickhead.

-Can't wait -he winked at you. 

[ripplestitchskein]

Hi I hope it’s okay to ask you this. I was wondering if you would share what you had planned for the ending of Whether We Wake or Sleep. Not in like a nagging way just because it’s one of my favorite fanfics and I’m curious about how you were going to end it. Anything you’re comfortable sharing I’d love to hear. Thank you!

Omfg Nonnie I’m so sorry I didn’t see this message until now checking another message. I feel so fucking bad, I hope you are still out there!

Im torn because I don’t want to leave people hanging on it, it’s been so many years and I want to finish it but my brain has moved so far beyond that place I’m not sure I could even do it anymore. The characters voices might not be in my head anymore. But I still kinda wanna try. I loved it so much and it was such a huge part of my life and I didn’t get even to the scene that started it all 😭.

But you have been beautifully patient so I’ll share what I had so far, and who knows maybe I’ll take some time soon to finish it up! I hate leaving it unfinished, it was one of my favorite stories. I doubt I’ll finish my other OUAT WIPs but this one was super special to me. We were just a few chapters away and I still know everything I wanted to do.

I’m going to post the last scene of Chapter 9 and what I had so far for Chapter 10 below as a gift for your lovely feedback and being so patient, but based on other messages it was awhile ago. I’ll see what I can do about wrapping this story up. Please forgive me 🙏🏻.

The Chapter 10 snippet (it’s only a few hundreds words) comes after the *********.

~~~~~~~~~

Graham.

He looked exactly as she remembered him. The light curl of his hair. The dusting of stubble along his jaw. The way he stood, sure of himself but apart from the world. It was like being hit by a wave, a swift rush of emotion and awe jolting her physically just seeing him again, pulled into the undertow. For a moment she forgot herself, staring openly across the tavern at this walking ghost, at a relic from the past. Killian nudged her with his arm, and she turned back, ducking into the safety of her hood, her heart beating a rapid tattoo in her ears. They were well hidden in the shadows of the corner, but Graham was not alone, flanked on either side by two bored looking Black Knights acting as escort.

“I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?” Killian muttered. He downed the foul ale in one long gulp. It was his third.He had been surly, his face dark and shadowed, since he had returned to their room the previous evening. He had lain next to her in their shared bed without argument this time, turning his back to her without a word, though if he actually slept she couldn’t tell. He’d had no nightmares this time, his breathing steady next to her the entire night. She couldn’t blame him, she understood completely, her own nerves raw and frayed, anxiety pooling in her stomach. You never realized how long the night was when you had to wait for it to pass.

“Yes,” Emma whispered, sneaking another glance. “That’s him.” He was still at the bar, his face solemn and expressionless, but polite, collecting a handful of coins from the innkeeper with a nod.

“Alright then.” Killian put the empty tankard down with a bit more force than necessary. “I’ll distract the guards, see if you can get his attention.” He rose.

“Don’t,” Emma said, panicking. She reached out, grabbing his hand. “Wha-What do I do?”

The smirk he gave her was more of a forced sneer than anything, a flash of teeth, as he pulled his hand away. A fresh stab of hurt had her wincing as he backed away from her like she had burned him.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something Swan,” he said with that horrible false sort of cheer that only made it worse. “It’s True Love!” It was like he had slapped her. Another physical blow of pain that rocked her where she sat.

Killian turned on his heel and crossed the bar. Emma watched him anxiously, torn, and unsure of what to do. She didn’t want this. It hurt too much. She didn’t want to see Graham. But she desperately wanted to see him again at the same time. She didn’t want to cause Killian pain but this plan left her little choice in the matter. This wasn’t right. To be fucked with by some higher unknown destiny this way.

Graham had turned away, walking towards the door. He was leaving. She was about to miss her chance.

“Your story,” Emma whispered to herself. “It’s your story.” She was a bounty hunter. She had been through similar scenarios before. If she couldn’t sort out her own feelings she could at least do that. Pretend he was just like any other skip. This was just another job. Someone she needed to capture.

She leapt to her feet, just as Killian threw himself bodily into another man, at another table, sending half full cups of alcohol and bowls of the same greasy stew from the day before to the floor. Killian gave a slurred apology, playing the drunk with practiced ease, and clumsily went to pick up the discarded dishes, only to drop them again. The man he’d fallen into bellowed in outrage, cursing him and the Black Knights turned at the commotion, amused at the drunken lout. One stepped forward with a good natured chuckle to break it up.

Emma slipped past, her eyes trained on the floor, head turned to the side. She focused on the pair of soft brown boots that were leaving the tavern, apparently not interested in drunken bar fights. She increased her speed, the sunlight bright as she followed him out into square.

Graham was just ahead of her, apparently having no issue leaving his men behind as he moved to tuck away the small purse of gold he’d taken from the bar keep. Emma picked up her pace. And rammed right into his back.

The purse fell to the ground, tiny discs of gold rolling out of it into the dirt.

“Oh gosh,” Emma exclaimed, her voice high and breathless. “I didn’t see you there I am so sorry.” She followed him down to her knees. “Let me help you sir.”

“No, no need. I got it.”

Emma’s breath caught at the sound of that voice. So familiar. The accent thick, not friendly but not angry either. Resigned. She looked up, her mouth dry as she finally took him in fully. His eyes were not the same, she thought. Less open. Duller somehow. He glanced at her briefly as he gathered the coins. “Be a bit more careful, eh?” He said.

Her heart sank a bit. There was no flash of recognition. No grand romantic spark. No bolt of lightning. Just an act of clumsiness and a polite dismissal. Emma checked that off mentally. Made note of it. She wasn’t one prone to romanticized notions, so she wasn’t quite sure why, but it seemed important.

“I-I actually wanted to talk to you,” Emma stuttered. He did look at her with interest now, and more than a hint of suspicion.

“Me? What about?” The last of the gold collected he rose to his feet, reaching down to help her up with brusque efficiency. Emma looked at his hand for a long moment and then placed her own inside it.

Nothing. She didn’t know what she’d expected. His hand was warm, the skin roughened softness from labor, but nothing more than that, and gone as soon as she was back on her feet. She made another mental check.

“I-um-I,” Emma cursed herself. She was better than this. “I just, saw you in the bar, and I wanted to introduce myself.” She said finally, lowering her voice in a way she hoped was interested without coming across too strong. She should know this, she thought. She should know him. What he would like, what he wouldn’t. Her mind came up blank.

Graham just stared at her expectantly, more than a bit impatient.

“I’m Mary,” Emma said finally. “Mary Margaret.”

“Nice to meet you Mary Margaret. If you’ll excuse me though, I’ve a lot of stops to make,” he gave his pocket a pat where the coins jingled. “It’s collection day.”

“I know, I know, I just wanted to talk to you,” Emma rushed. She glanced behind her at the tavern entrance, unsure of how much time Killian could buy her.

“About?” Graham asked. His brow furrowed, scanning her face. “I know you-” he said, trying to work out if he actually did, more of a question than an absolute.

Emma’s heart stopped. He knew her. Did that mean-?

“You’re the girl on the poster. The one the Queen is looking for,” Graham’s voice was rising in alarm, his eyes darting back towards the tavern. He reached out, grabbing her arm.

“No,” Emma jerked back. “That’s not-” she pulled harder but Graham was strong. There was a reason he was chosen to be Sheriff. “That’s not what I need to talk to you about. It’s a misunderstanding. A great big misunderstanding, I just need to-” Graham had a good grip now.

“I don’t want to take you in,” He was saying apologetically. “I don’t have a choice. I have to do as she orders.”

“No you don’t,” Emma said, desperate now. This wasn’t going well at all. As far as meet cutes went this was turning into a disaster. “I just need to talk to you.”

“You can talk all you like on the way to the palace,” Graham said. He was pulling her arms behind her back now, fully in arrest mode. Emma couldn’t get them free, boots sliding across the dirt as he dragged her bodily back towards the tavern and the waiting Black Knights. Back to Regina and her dungeon, a burning pyre and the end of this entire horrible journey.

Emma sucked in a deep breath and blurted out the only thing she could think of, the only way she knew of to get his attention. The only way she knew this might work out. Perhaps she could save herself and an innocent man at the same time.

“I want to help you get your heart back.”

********

Graham’s grip loosened in surprise at her words, and Emma used the opportunity to dart away. She didn’t run. She stepped just out of reach, holding her hands up in supplication.

“Yeah, I know about that,” she said. Her feet moved across the packed earth, and they circled each other for a moment. Graham narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but she could see the warring emotion in them, the surprise and the tiny spark of hope that flitted across his face.

“How?” He asked, his voice soft. His hand moved unconsciously up, brushed his chest and dropped again. “How could y’know that?”

“I’ll explain everything,” Emma said. Her gaze darted back to the tavern. “But not here. I want to help you, to-,” she felt her throat constrict. “-to save you. But I can’t do that if you take me in.”

“The Queen-” he tried again, and took a step towards her.

“Never gave you a direct order to capture me,” Emma said following his movement with a step back of her own. It was more a guess than any kind of factual knowledge. She had no idea how far reaching Regina’s control was of his heart. No idea of what he could be made to do. “So you don’t have to do anything. I’m just asking you to hear me out.”

Graham opened his mouth for a moment, considering, and a small flare of triumph rose in her stomach. He frowned, gauging his own reaction, testing his limits. No, she realized. Testing Regina’s limits.

“There is a difference between being a slave and being a puppet,” Emma said. She saw him draw in a sharp breath. “You are still in control, Graham.”

“I am-” he let the thought trail off. “Who are you?” His gaze swept her, and she was almost sad she was hidden behind a glamour. If he could see her would it matter? Would he recognize her even though they had yet to meet? Would he somehow just know her? Connected by something greater than recognition, more powerful than acquaintance, could he see her through all the magic and deception?

“I’m-” Emma had no idea how to respond. “-a friend?” Her hesitation over the word made his expression sharpen with suspicion.

“I can explain it all, I promise.” She darted another glance at the tavern. She could feel her brief window of opportunity slipping away. “I’ll meet you. Firefly Hill, tonight. Midnight.”

That was the place Killian had suggested she tell Graham to meet her. It was a few miles or so away, far enough from the village they would be alone, away from the threat of Black Knights, isolated enough for a private conversation but close enough to reach on foot with relative ease. A neutral ground. A safe place, to do...whatever she needed to do.

Killian couldn’t help his sneer at the time she’d suggested, his eyes colder and further away than she had ever seen them.

“A kiss at midnight,” he had said softly. “How poetic. Just like a fairy story.”

He was building walls. She could recognize that as easily as looking in a mirror. He was shutting himself away. That had almost broken her. Emma shook the thoughts away, determined now as she has been then, and focused on the man in front of her. The man she was supposed to be thinking about.

She might not be able to control anything about this situation, she might not know how she felt about him, but she could at least try to save him. If nothing else, perhaps Graham Humbert or The Huntsman, or whoever he truly was, could live. Perhaps she could right one injustice.

“If you don’t like what I have to say you can bring me to The Queen. I won’t resist.”

Graham just stood there, confused and torn. She took heart that he had made no further move to apprehend her. He rubbed the spot on his chest again and frowned.

“Will you meet me?” She asked, half a whisper, half a plea.

Graham met her eyes full on, and Emma felt a jolt, a twisting in her gut that she couldn’t identify. It was tinged with guilt, with sorrow, and she had to swallow around the lump in her throat. “Please.”

“Aye.” He whispered. “I’ll meet you.”

____

“They really meant the Hill part didn’t they?” Emma groaned, her breathing labored as she crested the last rise of what she was sure was a small mountain. Killian was just ahead of her, already at the top, scouting.

“Alright there, Swan?” He asked, face pinched with concern. His hand went automatically for his satchel and Maleficent's potion within.

“I’m okay,” she wheezed waving him off. “Just not in as good a shape as I thought.”

He took a flask out instead, handing it to her. She eyed it for a second.

“Just water,” he gave her a flash of teeth that could be a smile, all without actually letting his eyes land on her. He had been doing that for hours, looking at her without looking at her. It was maddening and it hurt, but she pushed it away.

Save Graham. The rest could be sorted out later.

[loquaciousquark]

4-Sided Dive Highlights - Critical Role C3 up to E58 (May. 17, 2023)

Rolling right into the next one, tonight’s guests are Aabria, Christian, Sam, and Travis. We open with Christian wearing sunglasses inside due to one eye being very light sensitive. Travis wins host and hulas his way into a monologue about an increasingly frantic recap of the recent plot, capping off with a ventriloquism segment and a French puppet wolf. It's...not...good, haha.

What the Fuck is Up with That? Sam reveals he verbally bleeps curse words when his kids watch the show, ha. Sam absolutely loves having the guests and mixing up the company. Sam to Aabria: "How do I know you?" Aabria: "What?" It turns out he means how did they meet? Aabria did a D20 game with Matt and Marisha (Pirates of Leviathan). Christian slid into Sam's DMs on Instagram, ahahahaha, and asked him for coffee with Marisha. Incredible! He just felt that Christian had a good heart! Sam, what in the world!

Aww, Christian is still such a fan of the show! (The way he's talking right now is very much like Jeremy Dooley from AH right after he first got hired.) He & Aabria got together for a Session Zero at Matt's place and feel like brother/sister now. They built the characters together. FRIDA came first & Aabria wanted to explore some holes in the world and was able to match elements around FRIDA's build. Plus they didn't know which members of the regular cast they'd be with. As Aabria developed the character Matt instantly decided she'd be paired with Travis. Christian knew FRIDA's color palette before anything else, ha! He knew he wanted to build a complementary character for Sam because he's grateful to the opportunities Sam had given him.

FRIDA has the level of rogue because they'd wandered around for a while on their own, and the cleric levels from Deanna's influence.

Aabria was determined to be a nice generous cleric to counteract any expectations of hard-ass-ness from Laerryn, ha! She picked the Dawnfather because he's one of the most hardline Prime Deities; she's a full cleric with off vibes. She wanted a contrast to FCG, who's in the position of a supplicant; she wanted someone more under the thumb of a deity in order to bring more facets of those relationships. Travis: "A perpetual IOU."

Deanna was one of the names from Chetney's vision; she was fully a Matt invention. Aabria loved the idea of being a past relationship and sent notes to Matt; then the day before they started filming Travis sent more notes to Matt saying she was a fling. "Damn it, I got downgraded to a fling before I even walked in!" Travis had to firm out Chet's backstory as they got to Uthodurn.

Sam really wanted to see Travis kill Santa, but Matt made Oltgar too regretful. Travis loves taking the dark routes in video games when available, but "with Mercer there's so much heart. I feel bad."

They had probably more god advancement in the last seven episodes than the entire campaign. I'm realizing this is about where I am in my show watch, which is why it all feels so current to me! Everyone loved the Changebringer stuff, except Travis could do without the Ring girl hair.

Ludinus was behind it from the start?! What the hell does the leather armor do? He caused the corruption of the Savalirwood 500 years ago, which means he's been planning this for a long time. He tried to kill them with Molaesmyr and corrupted the land, founded the Cerberus Assembly; he's constantly reaching back for the glory of the Age of Arcanum. Everyone hated the freaky animals.

The Rexxentrum Toy Authority was a beautiful moment! Sam: "Why would you come up with a three-letter moniker that was actually standing for something else??"

Sam is very grateful for this arc because it gave a lot of meat to his character. He feels that he's been asking so many questions: who am I, what are dreams, am I alive, who are the gods, I want answers. Now he has a connection with his god, a connection with FRIDA--it doesn't really matter what his original design to kill was for because he has such a bright path forward.

Deanna was built to complement many characters, and Aabria leaned into certain facets for this party over others. "The dying and come back was very built in for Laudna and Ashton and Orym especially" because she spent a lot of her life constantly bringing her husband back from 0 hp. She liked playing with the weird, unresolved feelings of knowing that the dead person isn't gone, just static and waiting. The husband is still alive but is super old???? Ha! "Dustyl" is his name.

Everyone's enjoyed exploring the haunted areas of Exandria. Travis describes several locations on the maps in detail from memory and everyone ribs him a little; it's really cute! Everything was a little wrong in the Savalirwood.

Sam thinks Fearne should have the staff. Fearne having teleportation would be incredible. FCG's coin has a once-a-day power that can cause distractions, ask the Changebringer a question, or get a luck point (which everyone's sure he'll use right away).

The last two interactions with the gods were fascinating because they weren't requests for help, they were demands. Deanna thought she'd died for a second at the end.

Aabria went pure life cleric specifically because she wanted to lean into the drama of resurrection magic being off the table. "Someone's dead? Oh, I'm great at this! Oh...wait..."

Jerry stole the show. Everyone agrees the goats are giant food.

Travis is sad they didn't fight the pterodactyl thing. FRIDA is intentionally built like a tank & has had Death Ward most of the time, so they intentionally drew aggro.

Travis intentionally pulled Chet away from the group when the moon started changing him specifically to avoid endangering the guests, and then Christian went after him! I have spelled "intentionally" wrong as "intentially" every single time. Christian knew it wasn't a "smart" play but thought it would be fun to interact with Chet, and that'll trump optimization every time for him.

The Tower of Inquiry! Favorite encounter so far? Travis: the Ludinus showdown. Sam: Laudna going down and not knowing how to Revivify. (Aabria asked if she could play Otohan and Matt was like, what? No!) Christian: the heist race where Ashton got the bust! Aabria: the same fight as Sam.

How does it feel being part of a larger group? Sam: FCG's entire first group died, so this new group is a lot of pressure. FCG's been one event away from berserkness multiple times. Every time they long rest, Sam can roll a d4 to reduce stress points, but he's self-imposed a rule that he doesn't do so on non-active days.

Sam literally leans over to Travis about his old age rules. Travis has to roll a 100 on the dice (three 0s) in order for Chet to drop dead. He's not concerned at all that it'll happen; Sam is hilariously concerned.

The Deep Dive, sooner than usual! Sam absolutely loved the interaction with the bull. He's delighted "the power of friendship" mattered.

Travis has been sitting on the RTC reveal for a while. He sat down a while back and really mapped out a lot of Chet's backstory and where he traveled, and again pulls out tons of map details like the Wuyun Gorge. The one place he hasn't been yet is Issylra.

FRIDA is a little nervous about turning into a werewolf; being around the group made them more comfortable, but the reveal of killing all those people is concerning. FRIDA also felt they were able to see Chet inside the beast during that fight & loves the idea of being unadulterated & free. Christian texted Matt & asked what it all meant that night, and just got in return, "ahahahahahahahaha". Ha!

Aabria is fascinated that developing these relationships with Bell's Hells has changed the previously friendly ease Deanna had with FRIDA. It's not quite a strain, but it is a reevaluation which is not settled; it's painful. FRIDAY had a strong opinion on the absence of pain and the absence of sadness; he hadn't appreciated how important current relationships were before FCG. Sam: "We have so much in common. We're both metal. We're both murderers."

Sam butchers the FRIDA acronym, which Aabria of course nails. Far-Ranging Integrated Defense Aeormaton. FCG is scared about the Changebringer's lack of clarity, and fears for the future. Travis suggests that if FRIDA dies, FCG should incorporate their body parts. Christian: I'd give you FRIDA's legs.

Everyone laughs at the size differences/similarities in their partners. Dani's (female) SO and she share clothes. Sam shrinks things in the dryer and gives them to Quyen. Alissa is taller than Christian so she can't wear his clothes; same for Aabria and her husband. Travis rolling over in bed is a literal health hazard for Laura, ha!

It took Travis forever to realize Deanna was his Deanna; Aabria even pointed to her name & he didn't get it. When it did click, the panic was real; he had acid reflux and realized she knew the backstory and he didn't! He didn't know if he should be angry or happy or neutral to see her; he had to wait until he had more context clues.

The romance for FCG and FRIDA was organic in nature. Originally they'd thought Deanna & FRIDA might have something, but it didn't pan out. Sam did text Christian to make sure they could lean in after.

Aabria loved getting to play with a character she helped develop in ExU (Fearne).

Tower of Inquiry, Redux: character's favorite board games? Chet: Chutes & Ladders. Deanna: Pandemic. FRIDA: Risk. FCG: Operation.

Post-Break Shenanigans: Super Smash Brothers! Sam: Dark Samus. Travis: Wolf. Aabria: Kirby. Christian: ROB.

Travis thought Oltgar was going to be more of a shit, but he's 100% okay tracking Drixlich instead.

Deanna is concerned after the conversation with the Dawnfather because while it's on brand, she fears losing her powers/life. She'd rather pay it forward first.

Sam wins round one! Huh! Round two: Sam: random (Falco), Travis: Ganondorf, Aabria: Ganondorf, Christian: ROB again.

FCG is weirdly comforted to have direction from the Changebringer; Sam likes her vibe. He was little freaked out by how demanding she was at the end but looks forward to exploring that relationship.

Christian wonders if FRIDA belonged to Ludinus. All he gave Matt was the dream of the child's legs. Time runs out on the second round and Christian takes it by percentage!

Round three: everyone picks random. Sam: Diddy Kong, Travis: Terry, Aabria: Kirby, Christian: Bayonetta.

How does Chet feel about the gods? It's only a matter of time before Chetney takes the gods' place.

FRIDA was very freaked out by fighting Aeormatons, but Chet's gift especially helped a lot.

Deanna feels that while the gods aren't a nascent part of the world, if it weren't them, it'd be someone else. Sam found it hard to play a religious character because his instinct is to be subversive.

Sam asked Matt if FCG had his initials carved on him somewhere after FRIDA revealed theirs. Matt said, "you don't know," then let Sam throw out a handful of suggestions for what the acronym stood for. He didn't know which until the moment, though. The entire conversation was inspired by Christian's play; "Christian did a cool thing and I wanted to steal it."

Christian's best friend Jack was helping him with acronyms; Christian had come up with "FRIDA" and Jack defined it in about thirty seconds, haha. Backronyms!

Travis loved the first Catha transformation. Now he has to decide who to transform into a werewolf. Everyone loves "Bells Heals" as a minigroup name, and "LoveLetters" and "Body Count" for the FRIDA/FCG ship.

Aabria found the two relationships with Deanna/Laerryn very different; with Sam she planned it out, and with Travis she knew she was surprising him. She is fully embracing the "we've already banged" dynamic for all her characters now.

The post-credits scene is a cutout of Sam spinning into the abyss.

That's that! One more 4SD is out right now (came out yesterday), but I'm going to catch up on the show first!

[gust-jar-simulator]

In which Vio has some side effects from being around and practicing dark magic, ve is asking for help from absolutely no one, and Blue decides to communicate the only way he knows how. Also there's unresolved sexual tension. I'm considering a part two.

Since this is self-indulgent, Vio has neopronouns.

Characters: Blue, Vio

Prompt: Vampire sickfic (it got turned around a bit because this is Vio and Blue)

•🏔️🌌🦇🌌🏔️•

Vio hadn't come out of vyr room all day yesterday.

Sometimes these things could be expected- a research binge, too much time with vyr notes and not enough time remembering to be a flesh and blood Hylian, but the others weren't idiots. There were, occasionally, patterns to this habit, and Blue was the one to notice how Vio (always a stranger to hunger) would eat and eat as the new moon approached, get quietly and self-destructively upset, and then shut down to eat nothing at all for a few nights.

It hadn't exactly come up, but none of them were about to begrudge their counterpart a little necromancy. They'd all been there in the Tower of Winds, seen the look on vyr face when Shadow dissolved into light and the hollow, obsessive way ve'd closed in on Vaati and then Ganon, less like a Hylian and more like the cold mineral jaws of a cave-in. It was one way to cope. Research was another.

They'd all changed from their experiences. Blue hadn't left Red's side for long for about a month after. Green trained. Vio studied. And if Blue still locked up when getting milk from the icebox, or Green whipped into a defensive position when the moonlight fell through the window just so, or Red's eyes had a weird sparkle to them that couldn't be explained by Minish magic, well. Scars took many forms.

Vio tried to keep vyr expressions flat, but they all saw the fangs when ve really got going explaining the intricacies of bookbinding over dinner. Blue added more meat to everyone's diet and they pretended not to know.

Blue stopped pretending not to know when Vio started collapsing in on pyrself like a rotting log, which explained why he was breaking the unspoken treaty with dinner in one hand and an uncompromising demand on the edge of his teeth. "Vio. Get the fuck up."

Somewhere past the door there was a shift of blankets, but no reply.

He scowled, grip white on the plate. It was just a day. He tried not to imagine the way Shadow faded, slow but too fast. Vio was flesh and blood, not magic. Probably. None of them really knew what they were. "I have dinner and I'm not letting it get fucking cold so you can be even more miserable about it. Come get your damn food before I break in."

Silence. Vio was in there, he could sort of tell, undistracted in the quiet and trying to focus on the place where they'd been severed from eachother, a year ago now. It was a clean cut, but the four of them were still a puzzle. They knew where they were supposed to fit together, and it called just a little. If he really tried, there was granite and black soil and forest rot just past the door, closer than he'd thought. Not in bed. Listening.

His voice went quieter, gruff, and he couldn't quite look at where he knew Vio's eyes probably were. "Quit it with the wounded dog shit, we're not gonna take you out back and axe you. I'm the only decent cook in this house and you're the only one who can do constructive criticism, so open the fucking door and taste test this shit, yeah?"

"I don't know," Vio's voice hummed through the door, too quiet but low enough to make Blue's heart do something funny, "maybe I shouldn't taste test anything you describe so eloquently as shit."

Blue just growled at the doorknob, and Vio opened it with the barely-there ghost of a huff that Blue knew was a laugh, easily missed under the creak of wood and the scuff of Vio's bare feet.

Ve only opened the door a crack, enough to lean against the frame and give him a once-over with enough exhaustion dragging at vyr face to look like both eyes had been blacked. Ve was still grinning, though, in vyr own sharp-subdued way, one brow angled up in silent judgement. "Room service, at this hour? Did we finally accept that arranged marriage, because you've never given me the royal treatment before."

Obviously not. Blue rolled his eyes and shoved the plate at his stubborn teammate. "Don't get used to it," you better get used to it, "I just don't like when assholes skip out on my hard work."

"Hard work?" The resident bookworm peered down at tonight's offering, considered the organ meats Blue had been figuring out how to cook ever since they started drawing silent conclusions about Vio's fangs and the brutally religious way ve clipped vyr nails.

The words hovered between them, both light and tense. This wasn't Blue's bad night. This wasn't Blue's unhealthy habits couched in things they didn't say. Plus, Blue and Vio, they didn't really talk. Not about emotions. Or at least not in a way that made Red happy.

Blue could appreciate chess, when it came down to the way Vio's eyes went dark and sharp as ve held the flow of battle in the palm of vyr hand. It was the same thing here.

Vio looked up from the plate, past tactics and into the decision, gaze locking with his like the almost hesitant tap at the start of a spar, testing. Blue's pulse beat like a countdown, like he'd been running flights up Vaati's tower instead of standing here trying to untie his tongue in front of Vio's door with a plateful of leftovers.

Vio licked vyr lip, just briefly, and Blue noticed it the way a compass notices north. "I'm sure it was very hard for you, but I'm fine as I am."

"Oh you motherfucker-" If ve didn't want Blue to slam the door out of the way ve wouldn't have dodged, lethally efficient even like this, face bruised like ve'd brawled the gods of sleep and half-dressed in an inkstained shirt, light footed over loose papers and books that Blue just charged past. Ve was fast and fucking bendy- they'd managed to fit a four-poster bed in here and Vio swung up a post briefly to bounce off the other side. Blue shoved the plate on a side table and lunged through the nest of blankets, just missing the hem of vyr shirt and flopping like a landed fish with a growl.

Vio's eyes flashed like witchlights in the swamp, green and laughing, and Blue saw the edge of fangs in the dark.

"Get back here you little-"

"Oh? Come back?" Ve sprang at him all woods-wild with a smear of dry ink on vyr forehead and Blue nearly forgot how to block, rolling into the pillows just to screech protest when the other man got him by the hair and ground his face into them.

Lavender-paper-ink-sweat fucking focus this is not the TIME-

But suddenly it was, because Vio was sprawled out across his back with a hand on his wrist and a knee digging cruelly at his leg, pinned, breath hot at his ear, and it was either submit or escalate.

Vio's laugh was a low and mostly throaty thing, a rumble in vyr chest, and the heat of vyr breath slid down the taper of Blue's ear to pool in his cheeks like lava. Fuck. "Maybe don't attack me in my room next time. You need every advantage you can get."

"Get the fuck off me."

He wasn't entirely sure how much got translated through the messy way they knew eachother, the way that drove Red to frustrated tears and made Green sigh, but nonetheless Vio was there and then ve wasn't, footsteps padding in the direction of the plate Blue had abandoned.

Blue dropped his face into Vio's pillows and pretended the muffled bitching was about the fact he'd lost.