#MY MILE TIME IS MUCH LONGER THAN THREE SECONDS. / out of character.

[mentally-a-slut]

Three Days (Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader) (SMUT)

Anddddd here we are! Part two of 'Staring Problem'! This can be read as a stand alone, but if you want a suggestive lead up, then go read part one! I tried my best with this one, but I haven't written explicit smut like this in a long time, so go easy on me! Writing this also reminded me that I loathe writing in second person, so from here on out I think I'll either do first or third. I won't bore you with details here, but I'll put up a separate post updating y'all on some stuff. Anyway, enjoy, and please leave feedback! Silent readers are appreciated but leaving comments helps me get motivated to continue! Even just a one word comment or an emoji helps! - Azi >:)

Summary: Arthur's been gone on a job for three days, which isn't a new development. However, a new development in your relationship just before he left leave you wanting. But fear not, as your troubles will be soon solved!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, smut, oral (f receiving), overall filth, reader is female, unedited (sorry), probably OOC Arthur but we're here for dick not character analysis!

You had always hated when Arthur went away on jobs, but ever since he left you hanging, your distaste for his long absences had grown.

You hadn't seen the man in three days, only getting a parting kiss and a heavy, heated promise as a farewell. The first day he was gone, you were mostly in awe of what had happened, wistfully going about your day and daydreaming of things to come.

The second day left you a little frustrated, the ache for him only growing with his absence. The other girls had noticed too, only making you more irritable as they teased you relentlessly for your obvious attitude change.

The third day was when you started to get worried. He'd been gone on longer jobs than this before, but you still couldn't help the nervous bouncing of your leg as you sat across from Tilly, trying to busy yourself with patching up some clothes.

"I'm sure he's fine. He's been gone much longer than this before."

Your lips contorted into a line, eyebrows knitted as you shook off the pain of the needle piercing the soft pad of your thumb. "I know. Just miss him, I guess."

Tilly just smiled and let you work in silence alongside her.

Arthur had gone to rob some stagecoach close to Emerald Ranch, along with Javier and Micah. You trusted Javier to help bring him back safely, but the addition of Micah made you nervous. He had a reputation of losing his cool and endangering the lives of everyone in a five mile radius.

Abigail had been very helpful the last couple of days. She understood every minor shift in your demeanor in the time he was gone. John was no stranger to long jobs, so Abigail knew exactly how it felt to sit idle while the men were out in danger.

John tried to be helpful, saying things about how Arthur had been bled half to death before and still made it back alive, but that only made things worse. You appreciated the effort, though.

It was getting close to evening now, the light of the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon. You tried not to feel disappointed, knowing that if they were on the way back, they would likely stop and make camp for another night before arriving. Riding at night was never good unless they were on the way to a job. Riding back during the day was safer, and helped them keep an eye out for any witnesses or general hinderances along the way.

Just as you were about to resign yourself to your lonely bedroll for the night, the sound of rumbling hooves shook the ground under your feet.

You whipped your head around to see three healthy horses slowing to a walk near the hitch posts, each one carrying an upright, unharmed figure. You silently cursed the fact that Micah had made it back alive, but figured it was too much to hope that you'd get Arthur back and get rid of Micah in one day.

You didn't care what it looked like to the others, throwing all cares out as you rushed over to greet the man that had been haunting your thoughts for the last three days. He was just finishing up tying his big black shire to the post, taking the weight off his horse for the night, when you tackled him into a hug.

He stumbled slightly, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist as he snaked an arm around yours to steady himself. His breath tickled the top of your head as he chuckled. "Miss me?"

You scoffed and pulled your head from his chest, still gripping the sides of his jacket as you looked up at him. "You were gone three days!"

He smiled down at you and pulled you back against him, settling his other hand to cradle your head against his chest. "I missed you too, sweetheart."

All of a sudden, he withdrew, his eyes landing on the man a few feet away that was tending to his horse. "Javier!"

He turned. "Yeah, Arthur?"

"Tell Dutch me and my lady are goin' on a little vacation for a while, will ya?"

Javier nodded with a smirk, and you shrieked as Arthur lifted you onto his horse without warning. He followed shortly after, kicking his horse into a fast walk as a few wolf whistles resounded from camp.

You held onto his waist tightly as he sped up. "Where are we goin'?"

"Just into town."

"What are we gonna do there so late at night?"

You felt more than heard his responding chuckle. "Get a room."

"Oh. Oh."

The excitement that tingled through your body was electric, buzzing the whole ride there.

~~~~~~

You would have flustered at the knowing look on the hotel receptionist's face if you had been at all aware of anything but Arthur.

Arthur thanked the man before leading you up the stairs to the room, his large hand gripping yours the whole way there. You expected him to jump straight into action the second the door closed behind you, but instead his strong arms pulled you into a hug.

His arms encircled you and pressed you against him as he nestled his face into your neck. The vibration of his words against your neck sent sparks through your body straight to your core. "Thought about you the whole time."

You sighed into him, holding onto his as if he would disintegrate upon letting go. He only pulled back to gently tilt your chin up, pressing a sweet kiss against your lips.

The kiss was so soft, so filled with emotion, his fingers brushing lovingly across your cheek as your lips molded together. You were the one to lean into it, chapped lips parting and teeth nipping lightly at him.

The responding noise from him fueled your desire more, the desperate groan making your whole body ache for his touch. His hands moved from your waist to your hips, fingers bunching up in the fabric of your shirt as he fought your tongue with his.

When his rough fingers brushed against the bare skin of your waist, you whined into the kiss, arching into him. He chuckled against your lips, brushing his hands even further up your shirt and coming to a stop just under your tits.

You broke the kiss just for a moment to lift your shirt over your head, discarding it wildly behind you. You yelped as he lifted you and spun you around, walking you backwards towards the bed. You tugged him down on top of you, slipping a hand under his shirt to feel to ripples of muscle on his chest and stomach.

"Arthur," you whined, tugging at his shirt. He got the hint, discarding his shirt before meeting your lips again. His kiss was rougher this time, wet and messy as he took in the feeling of your body against his. You brought your legs up to circle around his waist, and you whimpered when he pressed his hips forward against yours, his hardened cock straining against his pants.

You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging lightly. He squeezed your hips in response, kissing down your neck and nipping at the skin on your chest.

His hands snaked around your back, undoing your bra without even pausing. He broke the kiss only when he pulled the straps down, revealing your chest to the open air. Your first instinct was to cover yourself, but he didn't even give you the chance.

You didn't have the brain capacity to be embarrassed at the sound that came out of you when he took a nipple into his mouth, gripping the other with his large hand. He groaned against you, his erection brushing against you. He was growing harder by the second, the mere sight of you arousing him intensely.

His unoccupied hand stroked down your stomach, slipping two fingers in the waistband of your pants. You nodded and begged desperately, writhing against him. "Please! Please, Arthur..."

He moved his lips to your other nipple, quickly unbuttoning your pants and ridding you of both them and your panties in one movement. His lips separated from your chest as he moved up to you, staring into your eyes with intense lust. "I'm gonna get you ready, baby, that okay?"

Your heart swelled with emotion, only intensifying your desire. Even when he was desperate with lust, he looks at you with such caring, always making sure your okay. "Yes, yes, please!"

He smiled at you before kissing you sweetly, slowly kissing down your body. You whined as his hot breath brushed your core, your head tilting up to look at him between your legs.

His eyes glittered with amusement as they met yours, a teasing finger brushing your inner thigh. It was so close to where you needed it, but so far. "You're a tease."

He chuckled, "Can't help it when you look so pretty beggin' for me."

You threw your head back and groaned, half in frustration and half in arousal. Your noise quickly shifted to a whine when he suddenly slid a finger across you folds, head fuzzy with pleasure. "So wet already. All for me, sweetheart?"

You groaned and nodded, hips shifting towards him in an attempt to get him to do it again. "Ah, use your words."

Your words were half whimpered. "Yes! All for you, only for you, please!"

"Good girl."

He swiped his finger through your folds again, this time teasing his fingertip around your aching entrance. You bucked against him when his thumb brushed against your clit, breathing coming out in short, whiny sighs. "Please."

"Whatever you say, baby."

You moaned as a finger slid into you, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. Before you could complain at the lose of stimulation when he removed his thumb, his lips connected and sucked harshly. Your moans were surely loud enough to be heard, but the pleasure that wracked your body was so overwhelming you couldn't bring yourself to care.

His finger slowly moved in and out, brushing against your sensitive walls as his tongue assaulted your clit. You tangled a hand in his hair, tugging harder than you intended. He groaned against you, making a jolt of pleasure shoot through you.

The stretch of another finger was added, making you cry out. It wasn't enough to be painful, just enough to make you stretch around him so deliciously. He pulled his lips off of you and looked down at you, eyes hungrily watching as your cunt swallowed up his fingers. You looked down at him, lips parted with pleasure as he worked his fingers inside you. "More."

He glanced up at you with a smirk, slipping in a third finger. It sent a small jolt of discomfort through you, but it was quickly overwhelmed with pleasure as the third finger pressed against the most sensitive parts of your walls. "Oh, fuck, Arthur!"

"Feel good, huh?"

"Yes! Please, please, I'm gonna cum!"

He sped up, his fingers pumping in and out of your relentlessly. He leaned back in to swirl his tongue against your clit, which made you walls start spasming around him. Your thighs tensed, threatening to close around him, but he pulled back and held your legs open.

"Go on, baby, I wanna see your pretty face when you cum."

You couldn't form any words as his fingertips curled inside you and prodded against you in a way that made you see stars. His encouraging words only pushed you closer and closer.

"Good girl, doin' so good for me." You moaned and clenched around his fingers, muscles spasming as the dam broke. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you came, short, whiny moans escaping your lips as he fingered you through it.

With a gentle kiss against your clit that made you twitch, he pulled his fingers out of you and rose to look at you. You forced your eyes open, smiling breathlessly up at him. "You okay?"

You couldn't help but laugh, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. "More than okay. That was amazing."

He smiled and kissed you again, slow and loving. You knew you could tell him you were done for the night and he would agree in a heartbeat, not even caring about his own unresolved desires. But his sweet kiss only fueled another spark, already tingling through your body. His moaned against your lips as you arched against him, legs moving to wrap around his waist and pull him against you.

He pulled away with a raised eyebrow. "You're a needy one, aren't you?"

"Only for you."

You pulled him back down, kissing him roughly and pressing your hands all over his bare skin. His hips bucked forward when you tugged at his waistband, his desperation shining through even when he tried to stifle it.

You pushed him back, catching him off guard and shoving him onto the bed. He chuckled and shifted further back, letting you swing your leg across his hips and straddle him. You leaned down to kiss down his neck, smiling at the soft murmurs of content as you nipped at his collarbone.

You reached between the two of you, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down. He helped you and kicked them the rest of the way off, leaving him in only his boxers. You stared down at the bulge that strained against the white fabric, a wet spot of pre cum soaking a part of it. You looked down at him with a proud smile. "I do that to you?"

His hands slid up your thighs and caressed you hips. "You do so much to me. More than you could ever imagine."

You leaned down to kiss him, pouring all your emotions of admiration and lust into it. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing as he groaned against your lips. Your hips pressed down against his. sending a shock of pleasure through you as your clit brushed against his clothed bulge.

He would have been content to kiss you like that forever, but you were growing more and more desperate with each touch. You slid your fingers into his boxers without breaking the kiss, gently stroking his cock. His reaction spurred you on, and you pushed his boxer down to release him.

You marveled at his size as he helped you discard his underwear, leaving him fully bare underneath you. He was thick, and longer than anyone else you'd ever had. Your hand continued to slowly stroke up and down his shaft, thumb smearing the beads of precum around him. You were transfixed on him, lost in the feeling of his soft skin against your palm.

"Fuck, baby, as pretty as you look doin' that, I don't wanna cum just yet."

You slowed your movements to a stop and looked up at him with a soft smile. The admiration you felt for the man beneath you was overwhelming, and you didn't know if you could ever truly explain to him how much he meant to you.

You slowly moved to kiss him again, soft and sweet. You let your hips relax against his, smirking as his hips shifted under you to gain friction. You moved your hips against his shaft, your cunt dragging against him. You continued grinding on him, breathing growing heavier as the tip of his cock teased at your entrance with each movement.

After a few more seconds of torturing him, you lifted your hips and gripped his cock, prodding him against you entrance. Before you moved, you pulled away from his kiss, sitting up and placing a hand on his chest for balance. He groaned as he looked up at you, poised above his cock, cunt dripping with anticipation.

Emotion shone in his eyes, gaze still so loving even when clouded with lust. With a sigh, you lowered yourself slightly, taking his tip inside. You knew it was going to be a stretch, so you had to restrain yourself and take it slow.

He groaned at the sight of your cunt swallowing him, even just the tip of him. You held his gaze as you lowered another two inches, fingers gripping his chest at the slight stretch. Soon, his hands gripped your hips tightly as he helped you sink down all the way, clit brushing against him as you were finally fully seated against his pelvis.

Your eyes were dark with lust, cunt clenching around his cock as you adjusted. His eyes flickered over you, rapidly moving between your joined bodies, your heaving chest, and your face. "So perfect. Take me so well."

His words spurred you to move, lifting your hips slightly and moaning sweetly as you sank back down. The pain of the stretch had completely disappeared, replaced with a blinding pleasure. You rolled your hips a few more times before rising further, speeding up.

His hands held your hips tightly, his thighs tensing as he tried to hold himself back. "Fuck, sweetheart, look at you. Swallowing me up like that."

His words only increased your desire, your hips rising and falling faster, legs lifting you further off his cock. His moaned as he stuttered out praises, hands tightening on your hips as you rose fully off him and slammed back down again. Your pace increased, his length filling you up perfectly and brushing against the sensitive spots within you.

You struggled to hold yourself as you got closer and closer, pace faltering. You whined, every breath coming out as a soft moan. "You're doin' so good baby, want me to take over?"

You managed a messy nod, and his hips immediately rose up to meet yours, hands moving your hips up and down on him. You threw your head back as your cunt spasmed, orgasm coming down hard and fast. "I'm- fuck! Gonna cum!"

"Go 'head baby, I've got you."

With his words, you moaned with your release, his cock still pounding into you as you rode it out. Your senses were fuzzy, everything covered in a blanket of pleasure. You didn't even realize he had flipped you over, your head against the soft pillow. As your vision cleared, you looked up at him, blissful smile on your face.

"You did so good, honey, think you can gimme another?"

You nodded blearily, spreading your legs further as he continued thrusting into at a ruthless pace. You were building up to another one fast, barely even recovered from your previous one. His hand rested against your throat, grounding you but not squeezing. "So gorgeous, my pretty girl. Look so good stuffed full of my cock."

You moaned pathetically, hands going up to hold his face and grip his hair. "You feel so good, Arthur, I- I love how you make me feel."

He groaned in response, slamming into your cunt even faster. "So tight for me, gonna make me cum. Where d'ya want me?" He struggled to get the question out, his voice stammering through moans.

"Inside. Fill me up, Arthur."

His hand tightened around your throat for a moment at your words, and he moaned loudly. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me."

His movements grew sloppier, fingers pressing against your throat as he pressed his lips to yours in a messy kiss. With a few more thrusts, your own orgasm came to a head, only slightly preceding his.

His groaned against your lips and your walls clenched around him, his cum painting your insides as you milked him. He fucked you through it, kiss growing softer as he slowed to a stop. He stilled inside you, pulling back to look in your eyes.

You looked back at him, lips curled into a soft smile as he rested his forehead against yours. He pulled out carefully, planting a sweet kiss on your lips to distract you from any discomfort.

He shifted to lay next to you, turning his head to look at you. "You okay?"

You smiled and looked at him. "With you? Always."

[wildemaven]

sweetest heidi!! congrats on 1000 my lovely 🤍

can I request a main dish blind drabble?!

Pedro character: let’s gooooo Javier Peña or Jack Whiskey Daniels! chef’s choice 😉

numbers: 3 and 283

😘😘😘😘

losin’ you | jack ‘whiskey’ daniels

pairing: bull rider!jack daniels x barrel racer f!reader word count: 1287 content warnings: 18+ blog: some angst, reader and jack have history, some forgiveness but he has to work for it, reader has a rebound fling, reader rides a horse but no other physical descriptions, this is an AU, cursing, I think that’s it. notes: Kay! I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to this!!! I hope it was worth the wait 💕 Shoutout to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for a specific line (I won’t give away which one it is)

It’s not a world you think you’ll ever be used to. Roaring crowds and blinding lights accompanied by the adrenaline rush as you race against the clock doing what you love. It goes against the quiet life you dream of having on some land, miles outside of the bustling town and an even longer dirt road entrance to deter solicitors. But it pays the bills enough to get by for now. 

Bouncing from rodeo to rodeo can be lonely, even with all the cheering from fans and their undying support. All in the name of making a living and a name for yourself with the hopes of becoming a champion barrel racer. 

Tonight is a little different. Run after run chasing the fastest time. Arena dirt kicked up straight out the gate. Weaving around the three strategically placed barrels, all sharp turns and calculated verbal cues to carry you past the line. 13.58 seconds was all it took to secure the top place at the end of the event. 

Instead of hiding out in your trailer with one of your two closest friends Bravo and Miller, who both happen to be a 15 hand Chestnut Quarter Horses, you allow yourself to revel in the celebration and enthusiasm fans are showering you with. 

The vibrancy in the air is palpable after leaving Miller to rest up in your trailer. An effervescence pounding in your chest— all your self doubt and fears dissipating into a plume of contentment. 

It’s a feat in itself meandering through rodeo dust and small crowds wanting pictures and messy signatures on your walk to pick up the grand prize shiny buckle and winner’s check, hoping to get on the road before the announcer calls the last event for the night. 

The sight of a cowboy loading your tack and saddles in their proper compartments has you stopping in your tracks. Watching as he moves about with familiarity. Feeding Miller his favorite treats, already loaded and secured in his trailer stall. Bridles and lead ropes hung on their designated hooks. Gooseneck hitched into the bed of your old pickup truck. 

Seemingly taking care of your long list of tasks effortlessly. 

“Congratulations, Sweetheart.” He says as he latches the tack room closed, his hand giving it a good shake before turning to look at you. 

“Jack—“ You’re sure he doesn’t miss the way your face almost lights up at the sight of him. Quickly controlling your expression to something a little more neutral despite wanting nothing more than to run into his arms. 

“The boyfriend ain’t around is he?” His voice tempered as he took a look around, expecting a six foot something man to walk out of the shadows swinging.

“Benny? Why? You wanna compare buckles, see whose is bigger?” You snark at him, tossing your earnings in the front seat of your truck. 

“Don’t wanna step on anyone’s boots if I’m not welcomed, is all.” Such a stark contrast from the man who would go toe to toe with anyone who so much as looked in your direction. 

You roll your eyes as you stalk past him to open the small trailer window to allow Miller to hang his head out. 

“No he ain’t around. Fell for some cute buckle bunny over in Austin. Besides— he wasn’t my boyfriend. Just a fun rebound, ya know since you broke my heart and all.” He can sense the hurt in your voice, looking to where you’re running your hand over Miller’s velvet nose

“Sweetheart, ‘M sorry.“ Jack says meekly looking to where his boot is dragging over the dirt, his tone barely audible with noise coming from the stadium cheering on the roping finals. 

You know he isn’t referring to Benny and the whirlwind of a fling that he was. Seeing other people, serious or not, was part of the agreement. Benny Miller was a good time for a short time, long enough to keep you distracted from the way your heart ached for Jack. 

“It’s fine. Besides, it got a little weird with his last being Miller, too. I was losing track of the amount of times he used the line ‘wanna take Miller out for a ride? And I don't mean your horse!’” 

“That wasn’t what I was referring to Sweetheart and you know it. I was talkin’ about that night. I’m sorry—“ Oh, so this is a real apology. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard him sound so defeated in all the years you’ve known him. 

“Surprised you were able to get that big time ego of yours through the front gate. Now that you’ve got nothin’ holdin’ you back from all those sponsors and big money.” 

You chance a look over to him, propped sheepishly against your trailer, hands tucked in his pockets, too ashamed to look at you directly as you call him out. Not sure how long you want to drag this out and tell him how much you’ve missed him. 

“I came here to see you race. Watch you win big— jus’ like we always wanted.” He turns to meet your gaze. 

“We? I think what we wanted were two very different things, Jack. I wanted to win big doing what I love with the man I love. You wanted— what was it you said that night ‘take a break a break so you could figure things out’ among the other shit that spilled from that stupid mouth of yours.” You throw his words back at him as you stomp the short distance to him, causing him to straighten up in preparation for more of your own words. 

“I thought that’s what I wanted. Guess it took me losin’ you to realize I was wrong. I want you. More than the sponsors. More than the fame. I need you more than all of that shit combined, Baby.” He confesses sincerely. 

The warmth of his touch has your knees nearly buckling when he brushes some dirt with his finger off your cheek. 

“And so you thought you’d waltz your Mr. Professional Bull Ridin’ ass in here? Lookin’ all handsome wearin’ those blue tight jeans and my favorite denim jacket of yours. Hopin’ I would just take you back just like that?” You sound harsher than you intended to. 

“Well, I didn’t even think I would make it this far. I was sure I’d already be staring at your tail lights by now.” He quips, giving you a glimpse at that lopsided smile of his you’ve missed more than you should. 

You study him for a beat. Your eyes flitting across his face, each one of his beautiful features still as heart melting as always. 

Against your better judgment you kiss him. His lips molding perfectly over your own. Like a puzzle you once had and misplaced. Now found and situated where it belongs. 

“It’s gonna take more than an evening of groveling to get you outta the dog house— but it’s a start.” You flick the brim of his black felt hat, turning on your heels in the direction of the passenger side of the truck. 

He’s amused by your candor. The tip of his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, watching the way your hips sway a little more deliberately until you’ve reached the truck door. 

“If I remember correctly, the 8 second ride time only applied to the arena?” Biting at your bottom lip at the remembrance of the way he took care of you in so many ways. 

“Yes, ma’am!” His hat tipping with a slight nod. 

“Well, this truck ain’t gonna drive itself home, Cowboy.” Giving him a wink as you hoist yourself into the cab, watching the dust kick up behind him as he sprints to the driver’s seat. 

[spinji]

How old is AFO and OFA

[Mile long post incoming]

Long story short this is a theory/headcanon/thought exercise to keep my brain busy while I'm bored at work. I wanted to figure out a more precise estimate for how old All for One is since his birth is essentially the earliest moment of quirk society emerging and so his life spans the entire timeline of this story which I find interesting. And then the whole thing spiraled into a full One for All timeline of headcanons, so enjoy that.

To start though, it would be easy to guess that he's 120-and-some-change because of Garaki. Mic claimed Garaki would be about 120 (and we're just assuming he's exactly right instead of guesstimating for the sake of things) and Garaki confirms that his quirk allows him to live longer than a regular human lifespan, and when they met, All for One was given a copy so he could also live absurdly long. But I want to try a more exact method to ensure that his generations of adversaries could have actually reasonably worked time-wise. So, we can use Garaki's age to check our work but, reasonably, All for One should fall somewhere in the 120-150 range.

Right off the bat, we do have a frustrating lack of information regarding ages and time passing but there are a few things we can establish. Firstly, we know AFO and Yoichi are twins, so when determining age we can start both AFO individually and the OFA users as a collective at the same point. Secondly, Yoichi and AFO are shown to be the first people to have developed a quirk in the way we see in current time. There were vaguely quirk like mutations in people before that (like with their mother) but quirks as we know them are presented to us as originating from these two twins.

I bring this up because while Yoichi, Kudou, and Bruce are all in the same vague realm of "adult" at the same point in time, Yoichi has to be the oldest of the three. Even if it is only by a few years, Yoichi and AFO preceed any characters with a quirk. And while we're on the topic of Kudou and Bruce, we can safely say Kudou is the older one of the duo. He's confirmed to be the head leader of the resistance group against AFO and Bruce is second in command, so, frankly it would just be bizarre if Bruce was older in age but lower in rank. That being said, I don't think their difference in age would be significant.

Exact ages is where things get vague and headcanon-y. There isn't really any hard evidence I can point to other than "that sounds about right" and "I guess they look about that age" in an animation style that is notorious for just slapping a, borderline arbitrary, age on any design regardless of logic. So, rather than trying to justify it too much, my personal choices for their ages are, at Yoichi's time of death, Yoichi is 39, Kudou is 30, and Bruce is 27. At this point in the story AFO has been amassing power and followers for a while now, long enough for a resistance force to rise up against him but not long enough that he's considered it more than a nuisance for other people to handle until now. Late thirties seems pretty reasonable, possibly a bit too young but this man has also been killing people since he was 0.

For Kudou and Bruce I aimed for the older side of military age. Old enough to lead an operation like this but still young enough that AFO's rise to power was during most of their lifetime. Also, there's the issue of the age ceiling. Thanks to Shinomori (who I will get to), users 2 through 7 cannot have lived to be over 40 years old. That is a hard, non-negotiable cap on their ages as the strain of OFA alongside a different biological quirk drastically shortens a person's natural lifespan.

Anyway, back to AFO's age. If Yoichi dies at 39, this would also make him 39 (duh) and given the climate of the world at this point, I think Kudou lasted the shortest with OFA, personally. He receives the quirk immediately upon Yoichi's death after getting his blood in his mouth (Yoichi probably thought of him in his dying moments aww) and likely a week or two later is when Kudou and Bruce find out about it. The chapter frames Kudou finding out Yoichi carried on into him at the same time AFO has the same epiphany so, generously?? I give Kudou a year. Max.

All for One is now filled with seething hatred for Kudou specifically after Yoichi's death, so everything has been put on the back burner so he can both take the quirk from Kudou to get his "possession" back (ew) and to kill Kudou along with everyone he ever knew, loved, spoke to, looked at, or had any genetic lineage with. Even for a guy this powerful that is going to take a bit. A year gives AFO time to find information and strike down the entire resistance and time for Kudou and Bruce to think of a counter strategy and gain an understanding for how OFA works. So, Bruce takes the quirk at 28, Kudou dies at 31, and All for One kills him at 40.

After Kudou's death is a very big blank spot where I need to unfortunately just blindly headcanon again, so bare with me. Kudou and Bruce's plan was for Bruce to take the quirk and slip away from the massacre of the resistance to build OFA stronger and come back to finish the job. I believe that Bruce met Shinomori while he was lying low. Judging by the one image we have of Bruce confronting AFO, he did seemingly attempt to rally people together to defeat him, which would have taken a bit longer than when Kudou was leading an established resistance, since he didn't already have people under him. But he clearly thought to pass the quirk on again as a backup in case he lost, which is why he chose Shinomori to take it. With time needed to plan this attack and also get AFO's sights off him, I'd give it about five years between AFO's fight with Kudou and his fight with Bruce. It's estabished that Shinomori takes the quirk at 22 so, Bruce dies at 33, and All for One kills him at 45.

Shinomori is actually a very clear-cut piece of the timeline. He takes the quirk at 22 and dies at 40, having passed the quirk to the next user shortly before that because he realized his health was rapidly declining. He keeps the quirk for a total of 18 years, making All for One 63 at the time of his death. Judging by how the flashback panels are structured, AFO has received Garaki's quirk by this point.

Also, we have reached the point where every following user of OFA has been a professional hero, so I think it's safe to assume that each link in the chain met through either being colleagues or possibly through a sidekick internship. I doubt All Might was the first one to think of scouting hero students for successors. I'm going to assume that users 5, 6, and 7 were somewhere in the 16-24 range when they received the quirk for that very reason.

Moving on though, Banjo is the next user. I do think Banjo knew Shinomori for a somewhat significant time before his death. Banjo clearly knows about Shinomori's reclusive nature in some level of detail based on how they interact as vestiges and while it is possible for the already deceased OFA users to peer into the thoughts and memories of the current user, it doesn't appear to be the same retroactively, unless it's something the vestiges want to show the current user. All this to say I came to conclusion that Banjo was already likely a pro hero when he recieved the quirk from Shinomori. Shinomori realized what was happening and reached out to one of the few trusted friends he had to carry on the burden because he knew he could handle it. So I'm going to peg Banjo at being about 22 when he took the power as well. Old enough to be experienced as a pro with enough time to have actually met Shinomori before he died. Just like all the others, Banjo died to All for One after being trapped under rubble and gave the power to En just before he croaked. Given his bordering-on-middle-aged appearance, I'm going to put forward Banjo dying at 37 and All for One killing him at 78.

En also has very little information on him but since we only have speculation to work with, might as well stop apologizing for it. En appears to be significantly younger than Banjo, so I suspect he was an internship student to Banjo while he was a pro. Putting En at 17 when he recieved the power is both enough time for them to meet and get to know each other with En having to take the mantle from him sooner than either of them anticipated. En's appearance is still quite young, but he was confirmed to be a pro hero for a time, so he didn't have as short a run as Kudou. Nana was also already some level of hero (whether student or pro is unclear) at the time she recieved the power. Rather than mentor and student I believe they were fledgling colleagues, since Gran Torino fills the role as Nana's older pro mentor. All of this makes me vaguely place En dying at 25 and All for One killing him at 86.

I already mentioned Nana potentially being colleagues with En as their way of meeting. I still think she may have been younger than him at the time but not significantly so. En is another user that is shown passing on the power while at death's door and the following panel that shows Nana accepting it doesn't make her look significantly younger than how she does in any given scene in the series. So I don't think she was a child when she took the quirk but I'm going to set my guess at 20. But! While Nana is another character without a listed age, surprisingly, we can figure it out a good guess with actual evidence this time. Her son Kotaro, grandson Tomura, and pupil All Might all have stated, confirmed ages that we can use to make a feasible timeline for Nana.

Currently, All Might is 57 and Tomura is 21, meaning All Might was 36 when Tomura was born. Kotaro was killed at 32, when Tomura was 5, making him 27 when Yagi was 36. Nana died when All Might was in his last year at UA, making him 18, meaning Kotaro was 9 at the time. Nana gave All Might OFA when he was in middle school, judging by his uniform, so we'll assume he was 14 and Kotaro was 5. When Nana and All Might first meet, Nana states that her family is all dead, in a cold and distant manner. But that wouldn't be true if Kotaro was still in her life. This would mean that she met Yagi after the death of her husband and after Kotaro was sent away. And I'd wager to bet it was very soon after. Assuming Nana gave birth to Kotaro at around 25 years old (perfectly reasonable) then she would have passed the quirk to All Might at 30 and died at 34 after having the quirk for 14 years, making All for One 100 at the time of the transfer. Gran Torino also states that AFO is over 100 at the time Nana died, which makes this whole thing perfectly plausible.

From here things get a lot less speculative. All Might is listed as 55 at the beginning of the manga, adding on Izuku's last year of middle school and first year of high school puts him at 57. We already established he received the quirk at 14, meaning he held the power for 42 years + 1 year quirkless before All for One was finally killed at the grand age of 143. Which would mean that quirks have existed for just shy of one and a half centuries now and we fit comfortably inside our estimate goal!

Now, I'm one of those bad at math gays so if you have other thoughts on this, feel free to speak up. And you're more than welcome to adopt these age headcanons if you want. Later.

[magpiefngrl]

halfway through 2024 book review

June isn't over yet but I'm looking at a couple of very busy weeks so it's unlikely I'll read a gazillion new books or something by end of month. So we do this now!

books I enjoyed so far

Aliette de Bodard's Dominion of the Fallen series, set in a post-apocalyptic Paris with fallen angels and magic and dragons in the Seine. I didn't quite love the three main novels, but I enjoyed how unique the world-building was. However, I REALLY loved the last two novellas about Asmodeus and his husband Thuan, who are a delicious pairing. The novellas are: Of Charms, Ghosts and Grievances and Of Dragons, Feasts and Murders.

Pacat's Dark Heir, which I enjoyed so much that I went back to reread Dark Rise and then again, Dark Heir. I liked the second novel a lot more than the first (and I actually ended up appreciating the first novel more on my reread). Needless to say, I am very, very impatient about the end of the series.

A Nobleman's Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel. KJC has done it again. The sequel to her Doomsday Books series is fantastic, with a vivid cast, an excellent main pairing, and superb pacing. Couldn't put it down. A great historical m/m romance.

The Warrior's Apprentice by Lois McMaster Bujold. I'd heard a lot about Miles and it was fun seeing him bullshit his way across the galaxy.

The Mountains of Mourning by Lois McMaster Bujold. A novella in the Vorkosigan saga. Very touching and emotional and a great character study of Miles. Really loved this.

Newcomer by Keigo Higashino. This dude is seriously amazing at crafting unusual murder mysteries. This one is structured as vignettes of shop-owners in a Tokyo neighbourhood and, as the stories progress, more light is shed on the mystery of a strangled woman.

Faithful Place and The Secret Place by Tana French. Fantastic prose, absorbing murder mysteries that are more like deep character studies as well as an incisive portrait of contemporary Ireland.

The Lady of the Lake by Andrzej Sapkowski. This is pretty grim at times, ngl, but it has a daring structure with lots of POVs, switching between numerous timelines, a frame device, lots of found materials (essays and chapters from fictional books). All that worked for me very well. I love some experimentation with craft. I wouldn't say it was my fave read, but I'm happy that I finally reached the end; completing a series always gives me a dopamine rush so yay

progress on my reading goals

A reminder that my two goals for the year are:

to read (some or all of) the Vorkosigan saga

to read less or no US authors

I'm doing pretty well on those two scores. Read a few installments of the Vorkosigan saga, and (besides Bujold and a poetry anthology by Maggie Smith) have read no other US-based authors. My intention was to diversify my reading and, indeed, so far, I've read French, Japanese, Polish, UK, Australian, Irish, and currently reading a Ukrainian author.

fics I loved

I've not read as many books as I normally do so far, esp in the last couple of months, but I read a lot more fic than recent years. I've read some fab stuff in a variety of fandoms. The fics I'm going to rec below are the longer ones that I read on my ereader:

Tarnished Gold by Prim_the_Amazing (bingqiu/svsss, M, 118k) Inventive premise. Couldn't put it down.

Memory (T, 23k) and Out of the Dead Land (M, 62k), both stucky, both orphaned by one of my top authors ever. The second one gave me the worst fic hangover I had in ages. I had to go and rewatch Captain America.

contrapasso by damagecontrol (jegulus, E, 41k) Very horny. I like that.

Fire Burn and Caldron Bubble by pastapug (jegulus, E, 40k) Lush language, fascinating setting.

Beholden by Faith Wood (faithwood) (drarry, E, 123k) Gave me all the drarry feels.

Shout out to @hoko-onchi-writes's WIP: To Hold You in the Earth's Unholy Din, which I am loving <3

That's all, folks. Here's hoping for more wonderful reads till December!

[galway-girlatwork]

Concert Charms.

Fandom: The Last of Us-AU-No outbreak-Young Joel. Meet Cute. Rock Concert.

Rating: Mature-There is angst. So much angst. And fluff.  

Central Characters: Joel, Sarah, Tommy, Ellie, Andrea AKA Andy (Original Female Character)

Central Relationship: Joel and Andy

Word Count: 3,037

AO3

Please do not copy my work. If you liked it, please re-blog and tag me. Please do not steal my mood board. I do not give permission to copy, translate, or post my work to any other platform.

Music inspiration: The One That Got Away by The Civil Wars. Don’t Stop Believing by Journey.

Written for @ justagalwhowrites Joel Miller Birthday Celebration.

SUMMARY:

What happens when you go to a rock concert? Confusion, angst at miscommunication, you begin to wonder if it’s worth getting involved with a stranger. But backyard BBQ’s leads to something more and who knows what can happen in twenty years.

Concert Charms.

Andy had always loved Journey, their music was the soundtrack of her youth, filled with dreams and possibilities. She’d been an 80’s kid, raised by parents who grew up in the 60’s so music had always been apart of her life in some way. Everything from The Doors to the heavy metal hair bands that dominated her childhood. So, when she heard, they were coming to town, it was a no brainer that she’d have to go, not caring that she was going alone.

The night of the concert found her jamming out in the parking lot, before she got out of her car, getting her even more hyped for the show. Once inside the venue, she browsed the merch table before buying three t-shirts, one for her, the other two for her parents. Making her way to her seat, beer in hand, she stood in the crowd, feeling the music pulse through her veins as the band started. She was lost in the moment, singing along to "Don't Stop Believin'," when she felt someone bump into her, cold beer spilling down her back. Turning around, to see a rugged man with dark hair, accompanied by a younger guy.

"Sorry about that!"

"No problem," Andy replied with a grin. "Great concert, huh?"

"The best," the older man agreed. "Name's Joel, and this here is my brother, Tommy."

"I'm Andrea, Andy for short," she said, shaking their hands. The three of them struck up a conversation, bonding over their shared love for the band and the thrill of the live performance. As the night went on, they found themselves laughing, singing, and dancing together.

By the time the concert ended, Andy felt like she'd known Joel and Tommy for years. They exchanged numbers, promised to keep in touch but on a whim, she asked if they wanted to find someplace to eat.

Tommy chimed in as he looked back and forth between the two of them, noticing that Joel hadn’t taken his eyes off of her. “Hell yea, know this diner bout twenty minutes from here. Know where Stars is off 35?”

“Yea I know that place. Great food and I’m bout starved to death. Meet you there?”

“Sure will.” Waving at her as she blended into the massive crowd exiting the arena. Smirking he glanced over at his older brother, trying to find her. “Pretty, ain’t she?”

“Don’t start Tommy. I don’t need the hang up from getting involved, sides’ I got Sarah.”

“Excuses bro, excuses.”

“Bet ya ten bucks she ain’t even there.” It was longer than twenty minutes before they pulled into the parking lot, traffic being backed up for miles outside the arena, not even knowing what kind of car she drove, he knew he was about to make easy money. However, when they walked in, he could see a riot mess of black curls, as she looked over the menu. Tommy chuckled as he held out his hand, looking for the ten. “Shut up.”

When she looked up, her smile set off a fire in his blood and a litany of images in his head. It took him a second to realize that Tommy had walked in front of him and was now sliding into the booth next to her. Asshole.

She didn’t mind that Tommy sat next to her, gave her a chance to stare at Joel. He was handsome, not cute like you would normally label someone. Maybe it was because he was older than some of the other guys she’d dated. Not by much, just two years but there was just something about him. It wasn’t until they were in the middle of eating that she found out he had a daughter, making it a point to be looking at her when he told her, her name, Sarah. It kind of felt like he was testing her, seeing how she’d react and that is when she shut down, turning her attention now to Tommy. Not because she thought of him in that way but because she didn’t like being put on the spot like that. People assuming, not giving her a chance. Once they had finished consuming about ten thousand calories, mostly made up french fries and milkshakes, she looked at her watch and groaned. “I gotta go. Work tomorrow.” Dropping twenty bucks on the table, Tommy let her slide out of the booth, giving him a wink and a smile. “Had a great time. Gimmie a call.” A quick look at Joel, smile faltering for a second. “Night Joel.”

Getting in the car, she locked the door, before pressing her head to the steering wheel for a minute or two before starting it and driving off. Why did men have to be such jerks?

It took Tommy less than twenty-four hours to call her, noticing she was out of breath when she answered. “Hey Andy, what’s goin on?”

“Oh, hey Tommy, just got home from work. What’s up with you?”

“Nothin much. Was wondering what you’re doing tomorrow? We’re havin a cook out at Joel’s, thought you might wanna join.”

“Uh yea sure. What time? Need me to bring anything?”

“Bout one. Can you bring potato salad and beer?”

“Sure. Um gimme the address.” Scribbling the address on a pad of paper near the phone, they talked for a few more minutes before hanging up.

“Tommy what the fuck are ya doin? Ya saw what happened at the diner. The minute I mentioned Sarah, it was like you could freeze ice in her lap.”  He noticed the way she changed when he had mentioned Sarah, like he was beneath her or not worthy of her attention. It burned a little but he had moved on, maybe.

“Well Jesus Joel, you shoulda seen the look on your face when ya said it, almost daring her to say something negative. And the way you said it? I woulda told you to fuck off. Look I like her, and not that way so stop lookin at me like ya wanna deck me. She’s cool, funny and pretty as hell. ‘Sides, I think she can put up with your stubborn ass. I’m gonna head to the store.”

She paused before she rang the doorbell, beer sitting at her feet, homemade potato salad in hand. Taking a deep breath, she didn’t think about how many times she’d changed before settling on the concert t-shirt she bought, jean cut off shorts with Converse high-tops. She wouldn’t think of how many times she’d touched her self, thinking of Joel. She would ignore that thought when she felt nipples harden against the fabric of the shirt. Fuck. But even before she could grow a spine and ring the bell, Tommy whipped open the door, the biggest grin on his face.

“Hey Andy. Come on in, here let me take the beer.” Oh, she was trouble and he knew Joel wouldn’t know what hit him. She was more than pretty and if he thought for one second, he had a chance, he’d take it but he’d seen the way they looked at each other. Like two idiots who had absolutely no clue what was about to happen to them.

“Hey Tommy,” she sighed, visibly more relaxed than if Joel had answered the door. Something told her Tommy would be her best friend. You know that guy friend you can call at two in the morning because you were too drunk to drive home. Stepping inside the small two story, she followed him into the kitchen, setting the potato salad on the counter. Just as Tommy handed her a beer, a little girl, no more than three or four came tearing through, screaming and laughing as Joel chased after her, stopping suddenly when he noticed her. “Hey Joel.” What the fuck was she doing here, noticing the look on his face, like he’d just stepped in something, and couldn’t wait to scrape off the bottom of his shoe. A small little hand tugged at the bottom of her shirt, giving her a small lil smile, squatting so she was eye level with her. “Hi. You’re Sarah right? Your dad told me all about you. I’m Andy.” She was handed the Barbie that was clutched in the other hand before she ran to Joel, watching as he scooped her up. Standing, she clutched the doll to her chest, giving a wink. “I’ll keep her safe til you’re ready to have her back.”

Tommy shook his head at the tension that was building in the kitchen, wondering if the windows would blow out when it was finally released. “Well, I’m gonna go start the grill, Joel grab the burgers and hot dogs from the fridge, will ya?”

“Yea I got it.”

A Conversed covered foot came up, scratching at the back of a knee as nervous fingers played with the fringe of a jean clad thigh, before she gave a small shake of her head, pushing away from the counter. “Guess I’ll go out back if that’s ok?”

“Yea I’ll be out in a sec.” As he watched her walk out to the backyard, fingers tightened on the handle of the fridge door, seeing the small sway of her hips, the way her shorts rode up just a little, baring her thighs. Clearing his throat, he grabbed a beer from the fridge, hearing Sarah yellin for him from the swing set, wanting to be pushed. This was going to be a really long afternoon.

Between the beer, food and Sarah wanting to play Barbies all afternoon, she was exhausted by the time Tommy called it a night. “Yea I think I’ll head out too.” But then she walked into the kitchen and saw the disaster the four of them had made and felt bad, not wanting to leave it all for Joel, who was upstairs getting Sarah ready for bed. “Tommy second thought, I think I’ll clean up the kitchen before I go. Call me tomorrow?”

“Sure, will beautiful.” A sly smile on his lips and a lazy wink given before he walked out the front door.

Rolling her eyes at him, she began throwing out all the trash, leaving it by the backdoor before she started on the dishes.

Finally asleep, he left Sarah’s room, the door open a crack, night light casting shadows on the pinkish purple walls, he smiled before going downstairs, hearing clink of dishes being set in the drying rack. Leaning against the wall, he again just watched her for a minute stepping up beside her. “You ain’t gotta do those. I can take care of them in the morning.”

“It’s no problem, almost done and then I’ll get out of your way.”

He could hear the tension in her voice, see the way she held her self, stiff, unyielding, like barbed wire wrapped around a brick wall. “You’re not in my way. So, Tommy…he’s taken a liken to ya.”

She almost dropped the glass she as holding between soapy hands when he mentioned Tommy, giggling a little before gaining composure. “Tommy’s a nice guy. I gotta feelin he’s gonna be a real good friend.” Silence fell between them as she finished, drying her hands on the dishtowel. “Well now all ya gotta do is take out the trash and you’re set.”

“Thanks Andy. Feels weird callin ya that. I like Andrea better.”

Eyes went wide as he used her full name, not the nick name she’d been settled with when she was five. “Um okay. Well guess I should head out. Tell Sarah I had fun today.”

Just as she reached to grab her purse from the counter, a hand came up, fingers wrapping around a bicep, spinning her round, pulling him against his chest. He heard the audible gasp come from between her lips before he kissed her. This was so outta character for him but it was something he’d wanted to do since the night of the concert. He just wanted to kiss her, for hours as he held her close. She looked so small and fragile, a contrast to the hard angles of himself. When she didn’t resist him, arms looping loosely around his neck, he picked her up and set her on the counter, feeling her wrap her legs around his waist, just as a hand cupped his cheek, thumb caressing the bone beneath. He ended it first, layin his forehead against her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Never should have done that.”

It was like someone had taken a pin to a balloon and instead of outright popping it, they made a small little nick, letting the air out slowly. She felt deflated and defeated. She didn’t believe in that whole bullshit of love at first sight but she did know she wanted him and he obviously wanted her so why, why would he say something like that. “I’m not sorry. Life’s too short to live with regrets Joel.” Pushing him away, she slid from the counter, grabbing purse and keys before walking out the door.

“Fuck.” He ran out the door after her, calling her name a couple of times before she stopped. “Andrea wait a god damn minute.”

“What? What? What do you want Joel? I thought we hit off and then you turn cold and now you kiss me fucking senseless and then say you’re sorry so what? I am not a game or a shiny toy you take for a spin around the block before you start regretting it.” Yea there was the temper that got her in trouble more times than she cared to count, including some suspensions from school and a slew of ex’s but truth be told, those bastards had it comin.

She was fire and brimstone, which shocked him but also excited him. She was one of those women and he wanted her. One that would fight, protect, heal, love until the end of days. “Can you just be quiet for one second. We did hit it off but when I told you about Sarah, you began acting like it was an issue…”

“Because of the way you said it and the way you were looking at me, like daring me to say something. It doesn’t matter if you have a daughter because she is apart of you and I would never ask any parent to choose anyone over their child. It’s wrong, on so many levels…” She couldn’t get another word out before his lips were on hers again. All thought of how confusing he was, went out of her head as fingers curled into the t-shirt he was wearing, legs widening just enough for him to settle between them.

He held onto her, arms around her waist, holding her to him, like he was drowning and she was the only thing holding him to shore. He didn’t know how long they stood in the driveway, kissing each other like it would be the last time. Finally letting her go, he could feel her clinging to him and while most would have pushed away, he only held her tighter. “Stay, just a lil while longer? We can talk, watch a movie.”

“I’d like that.” Little did they know, that night would change life forever.

Twenty years later, they sat in the backyard of their home. The warm summer evening, had a breeze which was shocking considering the humidity Texas could produce, the cicadas singing their own little concert, couldn’t drown out the girls, laughing and running through the house.   

Stepping out onto the porch, handing Andrea a beer, he sat down next to her, taking her hand, fingers absently playing with her wedding ring. "Happy anniversary, darlin," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"Happy anniversary," Andrea replied, smiling up at him. "Can you believe it's been twenty years since we met at that concert?"

Chuckling, giving a small shake of his head. "No. Feels like yesterday. Man, you had a temper but look at us now, two beautiful daughters and a life I wouldn't trade for anything." Ellie was a surprise they weren’t expecting. They’d tried to get pregnant for years after they got married but all the doctors told em it wouldn’t be possible. So they decided to adopt and got Ellie, who could be a hellion in her own right but with Sarah, it was a wonder the house was still standing.

Leaning her head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body seeping into her skin, she sighed. "We've come a long way, haven't we? And I had a temper because you were actin like an ass. Admitted it as much the night of that cook out, so you can’t completely blame me.

“Sure can, but I wouldn’t trade this and I'm grateful for every moment of it."

Sarah and Ellie ran out onto the porch, each holding a small box. "Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!" Sarah exclaimed, handing her box to Andrea.

Ellie did the same, grinning widely, handing her box to Joel. "We made these for you."

Glancing at each other before they opened the boxes finding homemade bracelets, each adorned with small charms that represented different moments from their life together. “Now I know why we had to go to Micheal’s twenty times this week. I love it. Thank you girls. They’re beautiful.”

Ellie sat in Andy’s lap, lookin over at Joel as shoved her bangs out of her face. “Dad, we know you can’t wear yours at work but figured you could leave it in the cup holder.”

Joel nodded, clearly touched clearing his throat before he spoke. "You two are the best."

In that moment, Andrea knew that their journey was far from over. With Joel, Sarah, Ellie, by her side, she was ready to face whatever the future held. She knew that no matter what, they would always have each other and the music that had brought them together all those years ago. What could she say, she was a music whore and her husband loved it.

After the girls were in bed and the house was locked up for the night, she hopped up on the kitchen counter, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt, lips brushing against his. "Love you."

[ash5monster01]

Ashley my love. I recently reread your masterlist, YOU ARE FANTASTIC. Just needed to shout that out =) I've got an idea for a story. Don't know if you like it but I give it a try, especially after discovering that Miles Teller is on your character List????? Omg yeah. Here it comes:

Miles and reader are best friends since for ever and always more than happy to film together. Her excitement is marred by a new regisseur who gives her instantly a bad feeling (guy is flirting with her, gives her creepy looks and stares whenever he gets the chance). The whole situation is getting worse when gets touchy and handsy and when he corners her when she's alone. The creep harasses her and even threatenes her that when she's not dating him or be more friendly to him he will end her career. Miles notices that there's a change in the behavior of his normally bubbly sunshine best friend. Got more details in my mind, but that doesn't mean that you have to use them in any way!!!!!! I imagine that Miles and her always sharing an apartment when they're together, so he notices her sleeping not well, hearing her having nightmares. But she always brushes him off. One day he finds her having a panic attack behind her trailer (the creep just touched her rough and claim her dating him)....yeah well I need some good angst, drama, some hurt and an protective Miles, a fluffy end mayhabs?!

Love ya girl, it would ne fantastic if you let me know if you like my idea

Not Yourself

Pairing: Miles Teller x FemReader

Warnings: 18+ due to heavier themes, mentions of SA, abuse, depression, language, control issues, gaslighting, fluff

Summary: Being best friends for a long time can be like wearing rose colored glasses, ignoring the fact that feelings can change, touches can become more, and love can evolve into an entirely different thing. Some people ignore these signs for their entire lives but when Miles notices you’re not the same bubbly girl anymore he discovers a sad truth and in the midst of it all he can’t deny how he feels about you any longer.

a/n: I've had this request for ages and I am so sorry, I am busy literally all of the time and try to keep up with my own series and requests all the time. plz enjoy now that it is finally here xx

word count: 3,038

Masterlist

It’s been three weeks. Three weeks since you stopped smiling as much, since you stopped looking him in the eye, since you stopped laughing at his jokes, since you stopped spending time with him, since you had a full night of sleep. He had heard you, crying, having nightmares, your sobs barely muffled by the door. He wished he could figure out when it all changed. Everything was fine. You both landed another project together, found a perfect apartment to use while filming, you had been so happy. It was the two of you against the world like always. Yet now it’s as if the sun didn’t shine and because of your broken smile the world couldn’t really thrive.

Being an actor in this industry was hard, you had heard the horror stories, yet you still took it on knowing you had your bestfriend by your side. From highschool plays until now you were continuing to face the craziness of this job head on. Luckily enough with him by your side, landing new projects together left and right. You figure you had gotten too comfortable, too blind with happiness to see the warning signs, too scared to say no when one of the producers had asked you on a date. You figured one date couldn't hurt, that you could just go and keep your job, make up an excuse to get out of a second date, but it was too late. You had let him in and now he held the power. He held more weight in the bustling world of show business and now his threats of debunking your career were enough to scare you silly.

It was supposed to be the fun part of the date, the walking you to the doorstep, pink cheeks hidden by the dark of the night and revealed in the glow of street lamps, a shy kiss shared under the porchlight. Instead it was a tight grip around your wrist, back pressed into the hard brick of the home, wide eyes, as he threatens to end your career if you don't date him. Then you finally realize all that flirting and staring he had done on set was more creepy and forceful than anything. Blood pulsing through your veins you agreed, a harsh and unwanted kiss forced upon your lips. You waited till he got in his car and left before breaking down in tears on the front steps. You had promised yourself you wouldn't be one of those Hollywood horror stories and yet here you were, blindsided, and completely alone. You couldn’t even tell Miles, the keeper to every secret and embarassing story in your life. Once you realized this you waited until the living room lights turned off before entering the home and hiding in your room so he couldn't see the heartbroken look on your face.

Now it had been three weeks of this torture. Unwarranted touching and kissing all over set and it was as if nobody noticed or they ignored it for their own benefit. That broke you more than anything. The only person to inquire about your change in demeanor your best friend Miles, but you denied him every time. Assuring him everything was okay even though it definitely wasn't. Your only safe place was your room at night, but the abuse had followed you into your dreams, nightmares startling you awake until you were too scared to fall sleep, tears taking place of sleep. So you learned to live with the pain, but the thing about holding everything in means it dulls the parts of you that shine brighter. It’s harder to smile when something so heavy sits on the weight of your shoulders. You just prayed nobody would really notice.

Opening your trailer door you were prepared to make it to set, thankful you were a good enough actor that your emotions hadn't tainted your performance. Least expected as always, the strong grip curled around your wrist, and practically tugged you off the trailer steps before pulling you around and out of sight of anyone passing by. Your heart instantly quickened and suddenly you were slammed against the cool metal of the trailer before his large hand wrapped around your ass. You let out a shaky breath due to the close proximity and he snarled in your face. Barring his teeth like a wild animal and you were instantly fear stricken, frozen in place, and prepared for more trauma to add to your plate. Another nightmare brewing just at the edge of your fingertips, not even your work place safe from the abuse.

"You look good today, just for me?" his hand squeezed tighter, heavy breaths landed on your face. Your stomach churned with disgust over his weird attraction towards you. "Bet you sat in that makeup chair, begging them to make you look good so I could have something to see"

His other hand finally let go of your wrist, wrapping around your neck, the coolness of his rings practically stinging you by the touch. You shuddered as his face closed in, warm mouth landing on your neck as he left wet kisses, devouring you like a meal in the worst way. You prayed it would be enough, that he would leave, but then his hand was gripping your chin, mouth landing againt your own, and tongue shoving inside your mouth despite how hard you tried to keep your lips closed. Tears burned at the back of your eyes but you knew not to let them fall, to not give him the satisfaction. After what felt like hours he finally let go, backing off with a sly smile on his face. Hiding your shuddering body he pointed in your direction.

"Keep that pretty little mouth shut" he sneered and then he was gone, leaving you behind the trailer in a broken heap, heart racing, and life ruined. Once you could no longer hear his footsteps you were on your knees, tears free falling as sobs raked your body. You couldn’t control it as the panic rushed through, anxiety closing your airways, as you tried to wrap your mind around what had just happened. Unexpected and harmful all the same. You were late for your scene, but as the panic attack set in you had no part of you that could care.

As for Miles he knew you'd never be late to a scene, you didn't want to be one of those dramatic Hollywood stars that let the fame get to your head. So when it had been ten minutes and you still weren't there the panic set in. He told the director he was off to find you and before he could protest Miles was out the door and running to your trailer. Without knocking he forced himself inside but you were not there, sighing he walked back out and that’s when he heard a cry. Just not any cry though, the same ones he had heard from your bedroom every night. Bending down he looked under the trailer to see you were behind it, a heap in the gravel as you cried your eyes out.

"Y/N!" he was around the trailer in a flash, dropping beside you as he cradled you in his arms. You cried against him, barely aware he was even there. He found tears seeping out of his own eyes as he tried to determine what was wrong with his best friend, his oldest friend, the girl he loved more than anything in the world.

"Miles" you finally cried, gripping onto him like he could disappear any second, and he found himself lifting his head, trying to calm his heart and he let it settle in that something was really really wrong.

"Y/N I want to help you but I need you to tell me what’s wrong" he finally said, pulling you close and rubbing a hand through your hair.

"I will, I promise, just not here. Please not hear, when we're home" you begged and he heard the desperation in your voice, the fear that strangled you from telling him the truth he needed three weeks ago.

"Okay, at home. You can tell me then, just please calm down" he cried and you nodded againt his chest, counting your breaths like you had practiced. He held you through it, silent as he allowed you support while you did what you needed to do. Finally you gave him a nod and he helped you to your feet. He wished you would tell the directors you were sick, that you’d do the scene tomorrow but he knew youd be mad that he suggested it so he walked you that direction anyway, wiping tears from his eyes and painting a fake smile on his face and he realized that's exactly what you had been doing the last three weeks.

After that you both had been jittery getting through the day. Finally the director called it and awkwardness enveloped you as you collected your things and headed towards Miles Bronco together. He did his best to keep silent as he drove you through the busy LA streets, driving towards the safe haven you both shared. Miles did his best to keep his mouth shut as he locked his car and unlocked the apartment door. You were very clealry distraught and he watched as you dumped your things on the kitchen counter, the weight of the world crushing you into the ground. So he moved towards the couch, very obviously leaving the seat open beside him for you to take and start explaining yourself. You knew not to fight it, you had made a promise, and you never broke a promise with Miles.

"I'm not taking anymore bullshit Y/N, I want the truth and all of it right now" he finally broke the silence as you took your seat beside him. Hugging a pillow to your chest, tears lined your eyes as you finally told him everything from the beginning. Miles did his best to not get angry and interrupt as you told your truth, the weight of the news much heavier than he expected.

"For three weeks, that's almost a whole month Y/N" guilt bloomed through your body and he pressed his head in his hands, trying to not let the anger consume him. Yet as he thought of how angry he was he was able to recognize the jealous pull. That some bastard got to kiss you without permission when he's been wanting to kiss you the way a real man should since college. He had never realized that he had hid that from himself all these years, denied himself of recognizing his attraction towards you. Stopped himself from loving you, and maybe if he didn't do that this would've never happened.

"I was scared he would hurt me, we were always alone" you told him, wanting him to know that you wanted him to know but sometimes fear controlled you in ways you couldn't explain.

"I was right inside that first night, I could've come out and stopped him" Miles argued and that’s when it hit him. The front porch, the doorbell, his phone. His eyes widened and you watched as his thoughts danced across his face.

"What is it?" you asked and without answering he rushed to his room, plugging in his phone as he opened the app that could hold the key to everything.

"Don't worry Y/N, I got a plan" sighing you let him hide out, making yourself some dinner. and trying to go to sleep despite knowing a nightmare would awake you soon. Yet when you woke up Miles was snoring softly beside you in your bed. A wave of calm rushed over you and you scooted closer before falling alseep again, the first real rest you had gotten in a long time.

When you woke up to your alarm he was no longer there, his car not even in the driveway. You figured he had early scenes and you had forgot. So you got ready, tried to slow your heart as you made your way to set, trying to prepare yourself for another day of torture. Yet before you could be called to set a knock sounded at your door, a worker telling you that you were needed in the table read room, a meeting with the show runners. Realizing that you were more than likely going to be fired you allowed a few tears to fall as you made your way in that direction. Your situation did not look good as you spotted the director, all the producers including your own abuser, and Miles all sat around the table.

"We're glad you could join us Y/N, have a seat" the director told you and you nodded, scurrying to the open seat beside Bradley.

"Usually we don't call meetings until production time John, what is it" one of the producers asked the director and John gave you a soft smile.

"Miles came forward to me today with some information I think we can't ignore" he finally said and your heart doubled in speed as you realized what he had done, started a battle you would never win without any evidence. "Mr. Conway here has been harrassing Y/N for the last three weeks, threatening to debunk her career if she told anyone"

"Oh this is bullshit and you know it" Conway said, but everyone clear as day could see the fear across his face.

"Miles has also provided evidence" John said before clicking the screen, ring doorbell footage of the first night appearing on screen. Miles hand wrapped around your own, knowing this would be tough to watch. It was hard for him to watch himself, crying the moment he realized you sat outside in tears waiting for him to go to bed.

The group watched as you and Conway approached the door holding hands, they all watched as his smile turned into a growl as he shoved you against the wall, fear clear as day on your face and he got so close you were breathing each others air. "If you don't agree to dating me I will proceed to make your life a living hell, you'll never be hired ever again, people will think of how trrible you are, your fans will hate you, after tonight your mine and if you tell absolutely anybody it’s game over, you'll never amount to anything ever again"

Then they all watched as you frantically nodded and he forced himself on you, you clearly trying to push him away. Then they watched him harshly release you, walk to his car, as you clearly sobbed on the front porch. John ending the video before they could see anymore, you clearly distraught from reliving that moment.

"We're going to allow Y/N to decide if she wants to press charges and I am fully prepared to pause production if you aren't willing to immediately terminate him" John informed them and you felt your heart warm over at the thought of him protecting you.

"We understand completely, Conway you’re fired. Have your things packed by the end of the day and be expecting a court order coming your way" relief washed over you completely as Conway sat there, shock all over him. Miles pulled you into a hug, Conway leaving the room with profanities falling from his mouth.

"We're sorry for this Y/N, if you need anything at all we're here for you. We will also testify in court if you choose to go in that direction" you nodded as they also got up and left the room. John placed a comforting hand on your back before leaving as well, a true hero in this situation.

"I can't believe you came forward for me" you told Miles, still hugging him like your life depended on it.

"I had too, your my bestfriend. I love you, I have always loved you" Miles told you, pushing some hair out of your face. Losing you was never an option.

"What if your plan didn't work?" you asked and he shrugged.

"Then I was quitting the movie" he told you earnestly and you smiled, pulling him tighter into your hug.

"I love you Miles" you told him and he smiled before pulling back a little.

"I know this probably isn't the right time but after all this I figure you deserve to know that I'm in love with you Y/N. I love you in that more than best friend way and after this whole disaster you deserve to know that beause you deserve to be loved the right way" for a moment you were shocked, allowing his words to sink in because there was a moment you considered you and Miles. You just figured he'd never feel the same so you brushed it off, ignoring it for the sake of your friendship.

“Are you sure?” Miles hoped that this doubt wasn’t a symptom of the last few weeks of abuse.

“Positive Y/N, it took a lot of self control to not kill that asshole” you found yourself giggling through tears, a wide smile on your face for the first time in a month.

“I love you in a more than a best friend way too Miles” you grinned at him and he smiled arms pulling you close again.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, wanting to make sure it was okay since that asshole never did.

“Yes, please” and he didn’t need any more confirmation before his lips were on yours. Instead of holding your breath like you had been for the last three weeks you inhaled him, breathing his air like he just filled you with life after the past month of torture.

A kiss to redeem every bad one, a kiss to start the healing process, and start finding yourself again. Which you had a feeling would be better than ever considering you had finally allowed yourself to love Miles in a way you always wished you could. This time you didn’t have to look out for the warning signs because you had Miles to protect you, and look for them too.

[noxcorvorum]

Do you have any horror podcast recs

I liked tma and old gods of Appalachia but I'm caught up and need to BINGE

hello! youve come to the right place :)

Ghost Wax feels kindof similar to tma, especially tma season 1, with the main character (Owen Voncid) taking statements of people who've encountered the supernatural. However, Owen is a necromancer (the last Reclaimer!) who briefly reawakens the dead so that they can tell their final story, and all of the statement givers are dead. He also has an assistant, Luca Eso, who made the wax cylinders that he uses (he's been around for a very long time, and the remembrances are beginning to slip from his brain) and is a pop culture nerd. They work with a seer, Pip (or Phillipa Le Fay, to respect the stagecraft), who uses her grandmother's tarot cards.

All three of these people work for the Order of Hamsa, which fights the supernatural. Hamsa are incredibly powerful entities who have magic such as geomancy and necromancy, and usually inhabit a human body, though generally not for an incredibly long amount of time. There are several Hamsa in this podcast, including Owen. Owen has remained in his body for much longer than usual. Some other characters I enjoyed are Emea, the apiarist as well as Owen's best friend and a Hamsa, Cosa, the android librarian/archivist, and Azem, who is very thoroughly haunting the narrative. Don't look away.

I absolutely love this podcast, its easily in my top three. There's several incantations/spells which are so fun to me, found family, and really fun sound effects. It has 46 episodes as well as 2 Tales from the Vault, which are filled with smaller stories (I submitted a story to the second one!), there's content on patreon, and season 2 is in production.

Malevolent is about Arthur Lester, a 1930s private investigator from Arkham, Massachusetts, and the voice in his head and his eyes. Episode 1 opens with Arthur coming to on the floor of his office, suddenly blind, a strange entity speaking to him, and his business partner dead on the floor. Arthur and John, as the entity comes to be named, must now figure out how to navigate the horrors, try to find a way to separate themselves, and figure out where John came from. There's lots of cosmic horror/lovecraftian influences in here, and they have so many miles to go before they sleep.

There's a LOT of audio gore/squishy flesh sounds/Arthur screaming because the horrors love ripping into him, so if that's no good then this podcast is not for you. Some of the more eldritch characters also have voice filters, most notably John, which could make them hard to understand, though there are transcripts available. the plot can also be a little hard to follow sometimes.

I really enjoy this podcast, I'm currently relistening to it and having a great time. It's kindof forced family? because Arthur and John physically cannot get away from each other and yet they Have To communicate. They're so so much "its rotten work" "not to me, not if its you" AND "its rotten work" "especially to me, especially if its you, ill do it but christ alive". It's currently 42 episodes at usually 40ish minutes each, and still going, with new episodes releasing mostly monthly. There's also one voice actor, everyone sounds similar because it's the same guy.

Hello from the Hallowoods is a post apocalyptic show about identity, grief, family, and survival. It's formatted as a radio broadcast by an entity named Nikignik, who narrates everything. There is one voice actor for the majority of this show (save for the occasional character speaking outside of Nikignik's broadcast), and they do an amazing job, especially considering the amount of characters.

Some of the characters I really enjoy are Diggory Graves, a nonbinary frankenstein's monster with knife hands and a leather jacket, Percy Reed, a transmasc piano ghost, Riot Maidstone, the lesbian punk daughter of a rockstar, Olivier Song, a genderfluid cloud witch, Ray, a ghost possessing an automobile, Moth Scarberry (moth/mothself), Ray's adopted kid, Walt Pensieve, the asexual groundskeeper of the Hallowoods, and Polly, a devil in a floral suit. Some of the antagonists include Lady Ethel Mallory, a gaslight gatekeep girlboss of a marketing specialist for an evil corporation and the Instrumentalist, a religious fanatic who keeps killing people and turning them into instruments. Darker than your dreams, and farther north than you remember, the Hallowoods loom.

Each episode has a different theme based on the title (such as Keys, Names, and Bones), and is split into several different stories that follow different characters as Nikignik jumps around. There's not very many voice filters, because Nikignik is doing the voices himself, though I think there are a few, and transcripts are available. There's 145 episodes at usually 30 to 50 minutes each, and a new one releases every wednesday.

Sidenote, the Instrumentalist is *really* religious as well as homophobic and transphobic, and he regularly misgenders/deadnames a trans main character. He only exists in the show for about 50 episodes, and definitely gets what he deserves.

The White Vault is a found footage podcast with the first two seasons comprising a repair team's trip to Outpost Fristed in Svalbard. They go up to repair some damaged equipment as well as look at some weird readings, and then have to wait out a massive storm. They find a hatch in the auxiliary bunker, and explore the tunnels beneath to find a village beneath the ice. Theres Graham Casner, the survival guide, Walter Heath, the repair technician, Karina Shumacher-Weiß, the geologist, Rosa De La Torre, the medic, and Jónas Þórirsson, the representative of the company sending them. Travel is not advised.

I listened to the bulk of the first 2 seasons at 2 am while playing powerwash simulator, and it made me so incredibly anxious that I had to have my back to a wall *in the game* so nothing could sneak up one me. Highly recommend. There's so much fear and helplessness surrounding what could be hiding in the storm and in the ice, and I absolutely love the concept for the antagonists.

Seasons 3 and 4 are about a different team in Patagonia, season 5 checks back in at Svalbard, and season 6 is somewhere else entirely. 3-4 are pretty alright in my opinion, maybe a bit repetitive as it follows a similar pattern to the first two seasons, but I don't hate them. I think 5 is pretty good, though it has my favorite character in it, so, you know. I think 6 goes in a bit of a different direction, though I'm not caught up so I can't really comment on it. Seasons 1 and 2 are absolutely stunning, though.

The creators and cast of seasons 1-2 also have a horror dnd podcast called Dark Dice. I must admit I haven't finished the first campaign, though I really liked what I did listen to. I'm told the second campaign has Jeff Goldblum in it, and has 2 different parties with one hunting the other, though I haven't listened to it yet, so take that as you will.

Jar of Rebuke follows Dr. Jared Hel, a cryptid scientist with amnesia in a small Midwestern town, and perhaps closer to the cryptids than they realize. They're also immortal, and (for a reason I don't remember at this particular moment) he has to wear a key around his neck, and never take it off. I'm not caught up, though I really liked what I did listen to. There's lots of fun cryptids and supernatural happenings, such as Jared getting a hellhound as a pet. The episodes are about 10-20 minutes each, and it's ongoing.

As someone on tiktok so aptly said, if you have trust issues with your therapist, you probably shouldn't listen to this podcast. Jared is manipulated by their therapists, and we sometimes hear them talk about him like he's a test subject or creature, not a person.

Do You Copy is another found footage podcast surrounding Redtail National Park, which more or less contains an area called the Dead Zone, in which technology doesn't work and other spooky stuff happens. The Dead Zone has a possible imminent ecological disaster, and though the park is evacuated until the emergency is over, there are a couple people still inside. These include two ghost hunters, a hiker and their dog, and two park rangers who have been instructed to stay inside in hopes of hearing from the three others. I found the Dead Zone and what lies inside VERY interesting, both from a horror perspective and a speculative biology/ecology perspective. It is finished at 14 episodes.

The Hyacinth Disaster is a space horror found footage podcast, and easily in my top three (the other one on that list is tma). It is set in 2151, when Jupiter and Mars have been colonized, and the asteroid belt is being mined for resources. There are two main mining companies in the show, Halaesus Mining Co in Lagrange 4, Greek objects, and Lykaeon Minerals Corporation in Lagrange 5, Trojan objects. The Corvus, a ship contracted to Halaesus and ordered to survey and harvest an asteroid in Lagrange 5, was captured by Lykaeon and held for ransom, and Halaesus denies the ransom broadcast is true, unwilling to pay. The skeleton crew of the MRS Hyacinth has gone rogue in the slowly dwindling time limit to survey a possibly incredibly valuable asteroid, hoping to pay the ransom themselves. But they are 6 people manning a ship meant for 53, and there are so many things to go wrong.

Conlin Hynes is the captain of the Hyacinth and is a good friend of Ember Roth, the captain of the Corvus. Con isn't the greatest captain, not by a long shot, but he's incredibly loyal, and maintains a talented crew. Famke Hynes, or Blue, is Con's sister, and the captain of her own ship, the Sibirica. She would have been the captain of the Hyacinth had she won the rock paper scissors match when they first bought it. She's returned to the Hyacinth to run comms for her brother as they bring Ember and her crew home, and to blow things up along the way.

Finch is Con's wife, and doing an admirable job at being an one-person engineering and seismology team. She's doing her absolute best with the equipment they have that corporate refuses to replace or reapir. Dreadnought in exosuit 2 is by far the youngest of the crew at 24. He's a surveyor, and in fact surveyed Saniss 130991, the very rock they're at, himself. He saw the potential and purposefully misfiled it, hoping to make a bigger profit if corporate didn't know about it, and told Finch, who told Con, and now they're all here.

Grimm is in exo 4, one that he bought himself and has carefully maintained. He refuses to tell the others what he's named it. He moves around a lot, as he gets bored of jobs quickly. Seems like a hardass, but he's actually a pretty nice guy. Argus in exo 7 is one of Con's best friends, having worked with him and Grimm on several jobs. He's a pretty optimistic guy, and follows Grimm as he moves from job to job. His lucky object of choice is a surprise tool that will help us later.

There's lots of angst and horror but also lots of comedy. I've seen a couple reactions that thought there was too much comedy for the situation, but personally I really enjoyed it. It's 7 episodes long, at about 2.5 hours total. There's a lot of sound effects for the ship controls that could potentially be irritating, Dreadnought's dialogue is full of static and sometimes difficult to understand because his radio is partially broken, and there's a loud, extended, high pitched static sound often in the first few episodes (It's when they activate the squealer device, it lasts for about 10-15 seconds each time and there's a countdown from 5 right before), so if you have issues with mechanical/static sound effects, this probably isn't for you. There's transcripts for episodes 1-4 on the website, along with a database of more information about the world.

I'm so so normal about this podcast, I have a note full of facts and trivia (Ember was voted into captaincy by her crew, and according to dreadnought, the ratio of greek names to jovian objects is about 1 in 50,000), my senior quote was from here, I've relistened to it so many times. I cannot recommend this enough.

Among the Stars and Bones is another found footage space horror, but this time it's about anthropology and alien technology. The format is mission files being sent back to the company from a large team investigating an abandoned alien settlement. There's about 7 different perspectives, one from each branch of the team (xenoanthropology, IT, etc).

I really enjoyed it the first time I listened, there were a lot of good anxious moments. A couple of my favorite characters are Dr. Celia Pannella, who heads the xenoanthropology section, and Ben Kelleher, who heads the xenoarchaeology section. I found the alien science/speculative biology really really interesting.

Given you liked tma I'm assuming you know of The Magnus Protocol, but if you don't, it's pretty much Magnus but in a civil service job instead of archiving. It has such characters as Colin the longsuffering IT guy, Alice, who is coping with the horrors by ignoring them, Needles, and Chester and Norris, two text-to-speech voices who we have definitely never heard before (/s).

It has 10 episodes plus an Easter/April Fools special, and it's on a break until April 11th.

Mabel is a podcast about ghosts, families, secrets, and connections. Anna Limon is a carer who has been hired to take care of Mabel Martin's mother Sally. The house is odd, the house is alive, and the house is hungry. Anna is unraveling a mystery as fast as she can find the thread, and Mabel, having grown up half-feral and half-faeral, is somewhere under the Hill.

I will admit I haven't finished this show, but I would definitely recommend it. I actually had to restart it because I wasn't expecting to be as invested as I was. It is very much a faerie story, with riddles and all.

The Silt Verses is a story about faith, and what people will do to keep it. It follows Sister Carpenter and Brother Faulkner as they travel upriver, looking for revelations of their outlawed god, the Trawler-Man. There's a whole cast of gods, many of which are capitalistic, and most of the ones that are not have been outlawed. Some examples are the Trawler-Man of the river, the Waxen Scrivener of decay and books, the Saint Electric of radio and electricity, and the Cairn Maiden of graves and death.

I'd say it has semi similar vibes to Old Gods, mostly with the many deities and monsters. I'm only about halfway through it, but I'd definitely recommend it.

Hope you find something you enjoy!

[randonauticrap]

A Letter to Myself ~ Chapter 1

Series Description: A 1st person POV Isekai Ikemen Prince adventure told by me, your narrator. Not all true stories are believable, and not all true stories are real. I have changed my name and the names of anyone who inspired these characters.

Chapter Description: Liliana goes to sleep after another disappointing experience with love, and wakes up inside a very strange dream.

Chapter Title: Dream Truths

Triggers: Negative self talk; vague mention of fatphobia

There are few things in this world I love more than singing, sleeping, and daydreaming. They’re the three things that can always reset my anxious mind, and push out all forms of mental clutter, if only long enough for me to focus on the task at hand. That particular evening, the task at hand was wishing that my situationship (who, after I admitted I had feelings for earlier that day, told me he didn’t actually feel that way about me, and saw me only as a friend) had instead been one of the dashing princes in my favorite otome game. I think everyone could agree that they would never. But the quiet of the night threatened to envelop me nonetheless; this wasn’t the first time I’ve been fooled by pretty words and flirtatious kindness. It wasn’t even the second or third, and I’ve begun to wonder who the real problem is. Am I simply misinterpreting this behavior? Was my perception truly that terrible? I didn’t think so, since I could usually nail down just about anyone I met: what their struggles were, why they acted the way they did, and so on and so forth. In fact, it was one of the things I was known for in my friend circles - being a mind reader. 

But for some reason, when love was involved, my radar was off; or broken; or just flat out missing altogether. It was something I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember; to be loved the way I love, but fate seemed to stand against me in that regard. What if I just wasn't meant to have my own love story? My heart clenched at the thought that plagued me over and over. It was no mystery that my body type was not one that was so popularly celebrated in many circles, and I'd experienced my fair share of backlash over it through the years. And while, thankfully, many women in this day and age were standing up and speaking out about it, I still received far too many judgmental eyes on me when I dared to eat in public; didn't matter if it was 4pm and it was the first thing I'd eaten since I woke up at 7am. 

So it should come as no surprise that the little voice in my head - that damn goblin - often added "overweight" to the list of qualities that left men… wanting, in regards to myself. But the laundry list was miles long by now, and not even the newest Whirlpool could scrub it clean. Besides, who could afford that much laundry detergent? Certainly not me. Not in this economy. 

Usually, I could stir up some comforting scenario with the handsome first prince and lull myself to sleep in his imaginary arms, but the trick wasn't working tonight. God, of course it wasn't. I had to be up in around 4 hours to go to rehearsal, and sleep had been evading me almost as much as men did. "Is sleep a man?" I pondered aloud to my quiet bedroom. "Would make a hell of a lot of sense." I grumbled under my breath as I reached for the Melatonin gummies on my nightstand. I popped two in my mouth and chewed begrudgingly until the almost-fruit tang flavor was gone from my mouth, then let my head fall unceremoniously back onto my pillow with a dull thud. 

Now my neck hurts. Of course it does.

I tossed and turned for awhile longer, praying the Melatonin would do its work, and at last, I felt the gentle tug of sleep calling the deep recesses of my brain. Thank God, now I can go see Jin. It was the last coherent thought I had before diving under, my subconscious brain taking over, my desires in tow. 

…

…..

…….

Birds. 

I was hearing birds. Is this a dream? Those birds don't sound like the birds outside my window normally do. Those sound like… what the hell is that? A weed wacker? It isn't Friday. Is it? This has to be a dream, there's no way I missed two days; I've slept for long periods of time, but never 48 hours straight, long. That's like, coma long. God, I hope I haven't peed the bed. 

I cracked one eye open slowly, noting the lack of crust around it. Thank God, I'm finally re-hydrated. I'd been dehydrated for pretty much my entire life, through no one's fault but my own, and I'd always wanted to be one of those girls who could tote around a cute water bottle the size of a milk jug and drink it all in one day. But alas, God had other plans when he made me. Maybe he was distracted, I don't know. But I had been trying to take better care of myself lately, so I guess it finally paid off! Hopefully this means no more headaches, and-

I opened my other eye to stare up at my ceiling. I wonder what ti- wait. "M'kaaaay, maybe I do have eye crust." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes with my index fingers. Cause that's not my ceiling. Have I gone blind? Oh God, am I blind?

I opened my eyes again and flicked my gaze around the room quickly. Okay, not blind. A relieved sigh petered out of my lungs, but it only lasted a second before I cast my eyes around the room again, in earnest this time. This is not my room. My head swiveled left; right; left again. Okay, so I'm dreaming. Damn it, I probably still have eye crust. I shook my head in disappointment as I sat up in bed. The room I was in was small; tiny, even in comparison to mine, which was saying something. There was a single painting on the wall perpendicular to my right, hung precariously on the dusty beige wall. It looked like a lush green forest with a river running through the center. Pretty. 

My eyes continued their journey right and landed on a small, rustic looking side table with an oil lamp on it, along with a well-worn book. On impulse, I picked up the book and stroked its spine while I read the words on the cover. "Liliana's Adventures" Funny. That's my name. Could my brain really not come up with anything better than this for a title? Jeez, and I call myself a writer. A sound between a scoff and a laugh escaped my lips as I set the book back down on the side table and turned my head to the left. 

There was a small table with two rickety wooden chairs and what looked like a sewing project neatly folded on the tabletop. Okay, is my brain trying to tell me to pick up a new hobby or something, or did I watch too much Lord of the Rings last night? I noticed that there was a simple mirror on the wall across from me that reflected the bland beige wall above my head, the door to the tiny room, and a single window, notched in the downward slope of the ceiling to my left. I didn't understand. Why did my subconscious bring me here of all places? And where even is here? I mean, it has to be a dream. I just "woke up" and the inside of my mouth doesn't even feel gross, and there's no way that's real. 

I pulled myself out of the small, stiff bed and padded over to the window, my feet bare on the chilly wooden panels. The most beautiful garden I had ever seen in my life sprawled out before my eyes way down below. Bursts of yellow, white, pink, and red lined a maze of pathways through the middle, and showcased the gorgeous flowers in bloom. Most of them looked like roses. Wow… now I understand the weed wacker. 

I could get lost tracing each walkway with my eyes, and apparently I did, because I didn't hear the angry footsteps stomping up to the door of my room until it burst open and an irate woman screeched through it. "Leisel, quit your dawdling, we are due in the kitchen in five minutes!" The door slammed shut just as suddenly as it had opened and I jumped hard, nearly knocking my head on the sloped ceiling in the process.  "Who the hell is Leisel?"

~

Tags for the Lovelies: @aquagirl1978 @rhodolitesroseforclavis @ikehoe @queengiuliettafirstlady @maries-gallery @nightghoul381 @judejazza @xbalayage @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @alvieeru @aria-chikage @tele86

[bloody-wonder]

mid-year book freak out tag

years go by... i still read books...

1. Best Book You’ve Read So Far in 2023? moby dick! i totally did not expect to like this dusty tome so much but it was just too perfect a mix of tropy revenge tale, sea adventure mockumentary, and making stuff up and putting it into categories that caused pleasant vibrations in my neurodivergent brain. i have watched so many whale documentaries after reading this, you guys have no idea🐳

2. Best Sequel You’ve Read So Far in 2023? flamefall is the second book in the aurelian cycle and it’s the best sequel i’ve read so far this year. the addition of a slow burn mm master/servant story line improved things considerably, not to mention that it was my favorite character’s time to shine. this series is sooo good, please read it guys you won’t regret it i swear🙏

(ngl i’m a bit annoyed that fourth wing, this fireborne sjm-ified, is doing numbers out there and meanwhile there’s no fandom for the aurelian cycle to speak of😒)

also i simply have to mention defekt, book two of litenverse. i found the first book quite boring despite it’s shortness but the sequel has a sad lil guy🥺. highly recommend for fans of black mirror, severance or the murderbot diaries. you don’t reeeally need to read book one btw, i think you can just read the description and then jump straight to the good stuff

3. New Release You Haven’t Read Yet, But Want To? i want to read witch king but i keep putting it off cause everything i hear about it sounds suspiciously like *american author does mdzs* and idk how i feel about that😬

4. Most Anticipated Release For Second Half of 2023? i’m looking forward to system collapse the most bc it’s gonna be set chronologically after network effect and it’s longer than the other murderbot novellas too. very excited to see murderbot and art bicker again hehe

5. Biggest Disappointment? ig it’s the warrior’s apprentice😬 many people recced the vorkosigan saga to me as “the lymond chronicles in space” but based just on this first(-ish) book i have to say miles is uhhh,, not lymond😐 lymond’s key traits are that he’s queer and a cunt and baby miles is simply not that (yet). of all the other books that people mentioned on my overcompetent scheming bastard post this was the last one i hadn’t read so i was a bit disappointed that it didn’t pull me in like the lymond chronicles. however, of all the books mentioned there it’s also the only series i can see myself continuing any time soon so. it wasn’t all too bad ig🤷‍♀️

i was also somewhat disappointed by assassin’s apprentice but i will make myself push through the realm of the elderlings just bc i’m so intrigued by the fool👀

6. Biggest Surprise? apart from the life changing experience that was moby dick i gotta admit i didn’t expect to like the goblin emperor, what with it being one of those cozy hopepunk fantasies where people are nice and decent to each other🙄 but it really did grow on me by the end, it indeed made me feel cozy and soothed. now i wanna try katherine addison’s older darker stuff that was apparently so controversial she had to change her pen name or smth👀🤭  

7. Favorite New Author? so i read another book by christopher rice and can confirm that he’s now one of my favorite authors. the man’s early 2000s gay thrillers are very melodramatic and refreshingly juicy - you can really tell they were published in ye olden pre-twitter times

8. Newest Favorite Character? cyrano savinien hercule de bergerac. after just reading that first act where he monologues about his nose for three pages straight and then spends all the money he has to hijack a theater and cause a scene by duelling a guy on stage while insulting him in ballad form i thought wow but this is one of my sexy fucked up guys who like to swish their swords and run their mouths! please enter the mind rotation chamber, monsieur🙌

9. Newest Fictional Crush? power sur eater🐉 you guys are sleeping on the aurelian cycle and on the Glory and Tragedy of My Boy who has done nothing wrong ever in his life and i love him😭 seriously, if you’d like to watch a character like draco malfoy go through jaime lannister’s arc you gotta read this series

also csevet aisava? the guy who put sexy in bureaucracy?? it’s a crime that he and maia didn’t kiss tbh

💕Best Ship💕 the relationship of griff and delo in the aurelian cycle was SO dramatic and full of rawest scenes! kinda reminded me of captive prince at times, bc of the whole master/servant element. and the ending? “i will grow old in love, let them sing of others”?? i am Emotion🥺

10. Book That Made You Cry? furysong made me cry my eyes out like every ending to a ya series should. have i mentioned you should read the aurelian cycle btw? but also both moby dick and cyrano de bergerac made me laugh AND cry as only really good books do. there’s a part in moby dick about seeing whales in mountains and stars that made me remember i am a human being and was a small and happy human being once - like that scene in ratatouille when anton ego tastes ratatouille and the nostalgic memories hit him and he becomes not evil anymore. that was nice but i cried like a little bitch😭

11. Book That Made You Happy? re-reading twittering birds never fly without skipping all the yakuza plot scenes made me realize how hilarious this manga actually is! yashiro can obviously crack a joke but this time i discovered the comic relief goldmine that is nanahara

skjdvnksjdvk like?!

12. Favorite Book Adaptation You Saw This Year? i have a LOT of criticisms about martin crimp’s “free adaptation” of cyrano de bergerac but ngl it was fun to watch the play come to life on stage (even tho there were no swords, a crime😒) and even more fun to watch christian kiss cyrano on the mouth like god intended

13. Favorite Review You’ve Written This Year? so this year i actually started reviewing stuff on goodreads for the first time and it’s quite fun and really useful for refreshing your memory on what you thought of a book. i try to go for short and witty over in depth and analytical so i suppose the best examples of the reviews i have written so far would be the ones of moby dick and the goblin emperor

14. Most Beautiful Cover? the og red cover of fireborne slaps! the revolutionary red? the minimalist black dragon? the main characters’ profiles formed by its wings?? talented brilliant show stopping. idk who made the decision to redesign the covers after the first book but that decision was utterly stupid🤨

15. What Books Do You Need To Read By The End of The Year? i need to finish some series (the diviners, the dreamhealers, the broken earth), then like i said i want to read witch king and also i’m doing the classics challenge again so i have to at least finish reading roxelana and re-read the picture of dorian gray (the uncensored edition👀). i have looked up my old mid year tags and was pleased to discover that i since have managed to read all the books mentioned there EXCEPT for you love me which has been a staple in my reading plans since 2021 so i’m gonna put it on this list again to honor the tradition lmao

overall i have to say my reading year is going well but i still miss the exhilaration of discovering new books worth obsessing over like it kept happening in 2019-2021 with the secret history, captive prince, all for the game, mdzs and lymond. last year i used to think i wasn’t doing a good job of finding books like this but now i’m starting to suspect that i have actually read ALL the good books and there aren’t any left :( but that’s absurd right?? or isn’t it?! anyways tell me what you’ve been reading so that i can maybe get intrigued by something and prove myself wrong on this🙏📚

@figuringthengsout @counterwiddershins @fugitoidkry @magpiefngrl @sugarbabywenkexing @fandomreferencepending @pemberlaey @oliviermiraarmstrongs @hello-jumping-in-puddles @thehalcyonharbinger @pinkasrenzo @beeblackburn @weirdsociology @veliseraptor @theodoradove @sixappleseeds @doh-rae-me @venndaai 

talk to me about books guys! if you want to!!

goodreads │ old mid year tags 2020 2021 2022 

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 11

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 3687

Warnings: Drunk driving, underage drinking, death, car wreck, grief, implied depression, swearing

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Highway Don't Care People Need People

****

Hangman

The sun had set long ago behind the horizon, but the bright moonlight and the massive bonfire in the middle of the field provided plenty of light for Jake to see his football buddies. They were celebrating the last night they'd all be together. Most of them had been drinking, mainly beer, although some had brought harder stuff, like tequila and vodka. Jake refrained from the libations. He would do nothing to risk his career with the Navy, no matter how much his friends pressured him into trying a sip. 

Annalise hadn't been able to make it as she was returning from a trip to New Orleans, where she'd gone on a family vacation. 

Jake watched as his friends drank and drank, getting rowdier by the hour. He only wished Mike, who had driven him there, had stayed sober too. Otherwise, it would be a long walk home. He could always call his mom, but he hated to wake her up. Not to mention, his dad would be furious if Jake woke him from his beauty sleep.

The night hit two a.m. before Mike finally decided to call it quits. He staggered over to Jake, fumbling for his keys and slurring, "Less go."

"Uh, why don't I drive, man? You're drunk as a skunk," Jake replied, reaching for the keys. Mike pulled them out of his grasp.

"Hell no. No one drives Bridget. Only me."

"Then I'm not getting in the car with you."

"How the hell you gonna get home? By walkin'?"

"Better than in a body bag," Jake retorted. "Come on, Mike. It's a straight shot down the road to your house, and it's max, three miles. No one's on the roads. I can drive Bridget no problem."

"N. Oooooo. Thas spells nooooo," Mike replied indignantly. "You ain't drivin' my fuckin' truck."

"Then I'm not getting a fucking ride with you. I value my life."

"Fine. Walk home, dickwad."

Jake flipped him off and started the four-mile trek home. He grimaced at the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance, followed by the flashing of menacing lightning. That storm appeared to be rolling in fast if the breeze caressing his skin was anything to go by. Jake wouldn't beat it before he reached home, even if he jogged the entire way there. Maybe he should call his mom...

Reluctantly, Jake pulled out his cell phone and texted Natalie Seresin, asking her to pick him up and praying her insomniac ways held true tonight and that she was up. Thankfully, her response was almost immediate: Of course I can. Where are you?

Giving her instructions on how to reach him, Jake breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned against a tree and waited for her. His senses remained keenly aware of every noise and sight around him. Jake was armed with two pocket knives, a trick Annalise had convinced him would possibly save him if anyone ever attacked. She claimed if the attacker disarmed him with the first knife, the last thing they'd expect is for Jake to whip out a second one. She'd said it so confidently that he believed her logic, whether it was true or not.

Hardly ten minutes later, headlights appeared in the distance, and his mom soon pulled over, allowing him to hop in. Jake settled into the seat and said, "Thank you, Mom. I'm sorry you had to come pick me up. Mike was drinking, and I didn't feel comfortable getting in the car with him."

"You made a good call, sweetie. Never apologize for asking me to pick you up, especially under those circumstances. Did you at least have fun until then?"

Jake shrugged, rolling his window down to get some fresh air. His mom did the same while he said, "Yeah, it wasn't bad. Would've been more fun if Annalise had been there, but she got back from her trip today and wasn't up to it."

"Honey, when are you going to ask her out? You two are practically inseparable. Even when you're not together, you're texting each other and-"

"Moooom," Jake groaned, sliding down into the seat. "We're just-"

"Friends? Jake Glen Seresin, do you really expect me to believe that? Especially with the heart-eyes you give her-"

"Who taught you the term heart-eyes?"

"Your girlfriend," Natalie Seresin chuckled, squinting at the brights of a car coming from the opposite direction.

"She's not my girlfriend!"

"Keep telling yourself- SHIT!"

It happened so fast that Jake had no time to comprehend the situation or its outcomes. The oncoming truck drunkenly swerved into their lane. Natalie had nowhere to go. The vehicle hit theirs, flipping them over the guard rail and into the river below. Jake instinctively covered his head with his arms, only unraveling them after the jarring impact of the truck hitting the water. Dazed, he glanced around, trying to grasp the situation. The cold water spilling into his lap shocked him back to his senses. The bright moonlight illuminated the inside of the sinking vehicle, including his unconscious mother, slumped over the steering wheel with a dark substance covering the side of her face. Jake swiftly unbuckled himself and tried to do the same, but the mechanism wouldn't work. Panicked, he whipped out his knife and furiously cut through the tough material until the strap severed. By now, the water was at their chins and rapidly covering their faces. By the time he maneuvered himself and his mom out of the window, both they and the truck were completely submerged.

"Give her to me!" A man shouted frantically when Jake surfaced. He noticed blue and red lights on the bridge and put two and two together. He handed his mom to the cop and followed him to the embankment. Sirens in the distance could be heard speeding toward them, and within seconds, an ambulance, fire truck, and more cop cars arrived. EMTs swiftly loaded Natalie Seresin onto a gurney, and Jake insisted he go with them, declaring he was fine. Whether that was true or not, he didn't know, but he knew one thing: his mom wasn't.

"Mom? Mom, can you hear me?" Jake begged, grabbing her hand while the EMTs tried to stabilize her. A cop car followed, and when they arrived at the hospital, a policeman halted Jake to get a statement of what had happened.

"My mom, she- she picked me up from a party, and the truck, it-it swerved into our lane and hit us- is my mom going to be all right?" Jake asked worriedly, running a hand through his hair anxiously. "Oh, God..."

"Easy, son. Why don't you take a seat?" The policeman said gently, placing a guiding hand on Jake's shoulder and leading him to a chair. Jake collapsed into it. "Do you have someone you'd like to call?"

"My dad and brothers. They'll-" Jake's heart constricted in fear. His dad would be irate over the situation. The truck might've been at fault, but the accident never would've happened if Jake hadn't called his mom to pick him up. This was his fault, and he dreaded the consequences. Still, he had to tell him. 

"Why don't I call them for you? Do you have a phone number?" the cop requested, almost like he could read Jake's train of thought.

"Yes, sir." He rattled off the number, and the cop went to make the call. Jake braced his elbow on his knees and buried his face in his hands, terrified for his mom's wellbeing. If he lost her...

Jake could've sworn only seconds passed before he heard his dad and brothers hollering his name. He glanced up in a daze to see them running up to him. His dad grabbed ahold of his shoulders and demanded, "What the hell happened?"

Jake stammered out the story, terrified by the craze in his dad's eyes. Thankfully, before Michael Seresin could berate him, the cop approached along with a doctor. The men straightened up, impatiently awaiting the news. His mother was in critical condition, but they could visit her two at a time. Michael immediately moved first, but Jake remained seated, knowing he was the last person his dad wanted to go with him.

"You go with Dad," Matt told Nick, sitting beside Jake. "I'll wait here with him."

No one argued. Jake slumped in the chair and stared at the ceiling, blinking back tears. Matt cleared his throat and said, "How you holdin' up?"

Jake didn't respond, not entirely trusting his voice. Matt recognized this and continued. "You were always closest to Mom. Whatever happened, whatever Dad says, I know it's not your fault."

"It is, though," Jake whispered shakily. "I asked her to pick me up. If I'd just sucked it up and walked home, this wouldn't have happened."

"In the middle of the night during a torrential thunderstorm?" Matt glanced out a window nearby when lightning flashed. A thunderclap soon followed, shaking the building. "It would've been dangerous, and Mom would be sick with worry."

"But she'd be safe."

"Jake-"

"You boys want to see her?" Michael asked, uncharacteristically pale and quiet. Matt and Jake nodded, standing up and heading to Natalie's room. Matt entered first, but Jake hung back, wondering if he really wanted to see what he'd done to his mom, to see what shape he'd put her in. How could he have done this? How could he have been so selfish as to ask her for help when he put himself in the position he had?

But what if this was his last chance to see her? What if Natalie didn't make it through this? The more he played the crash and rescue over in his head, the more Jake realized the dark substance he'd seen on her face had been blood. The memory made him nauseous.

With lead feet, Jake moved forward, determined to see his mom despite the guilt threatening to drown him. He'd barely crossed over the threshold when the heart monitor flatlined. Jake distantly heard himself yelling for his mom, rushing toward her only to be blocked by Matt, who practically carried his brother out of the room while nurses and doctors swarmed Natalie Seresin to resuscitate her. 

For what felt like hours, Jake watched the medical team try and revive his mom, but at 5:02 a.m., the doctor pronounced her dead. Jake collapsed in a chair, sobs wracking his body. A nurse tried to console him, but her kind words were lost. He'd lost his best friend, the only person in his family who Jake truly believed loved and cared for him. Now, she was gone, and he was on his own. Jake would never see her heartwarming smile or hear her contagious laugh; he would never get to talk to her when he had exciting news or needed to vent; he would never get his mom's comforting hugs or hear her screaming at his football matches.

His mom was gone.

How long he sat there with Matt and Nick, Jake couldn't tell, but he followed their cues, getting up when they did and walking out of the hospital after their dad. However, when they stepped outside and turned to the parking lot, Michael Seresin stopped short and glowered at Jake. "What the hell are you doing?"

"W-what?" Jake stammered, blinking in confusion.

"You think I want you coming home with us after what you've just caused?" Michael demanded, his temper and voice rising. "You got your mother killed!"

Matt stepped forward, holding his hands up placatingly. "Dad, come on, the police said it was a drunk-"

"Shut up!" Michael roared, effectively silencing his eldest son. Turning back to Jake, he pointed an accusatory finger at him and snarled, "I don't want you in my sight right now. I'll tell you when and if you can come home. Do you understand me?"

Jake could only nod, hopelessness now crashing into him alongside the grief. Matt hung back, conflicted between staying with Jake or going to the car with his dad and Nick. Jake noticed and, in a surprisingly steady voice, said, "Go."

"Jake, you shouldn't be alo-"

"Go!" Jake snapped, pointing his finger at the rapidly disappearing Michael and Nick. "Just go. I want nothing to do with any of you."

Matt hesitated once more, reluctantly nodded, then went after the other Seresin men, but he repeatedly looked over his shoulder at Jake, who waited until his family was out of sight before collapsing onto a bench outside the hospital. 

There, in front of God and the moon, he quietly wept over losing his mom, wishing the universe had taken him instead of her. It would've been better for everyone that way. His mom would've been devastated for a while, but she would've moved on. After all, she would've had two other sons to take care of. Jake was almost certain his dad wouldn't have cared at all if it had been Jake who died. Even Annalise probably wouldn't care. It didn't matter that he was her closest friend and vice versa. She never wanted to get close to him in the first place.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Jake ignored it the first time. He ignored it the second time, too, figuring it was Matt trying to call him. But when the person called a third time, he finally answered, "Hello?"

A familiar, worried voice answered, "Jake? Are you okay?" 

"Annie?" he croaked. Hearing her caught him off guard. Of all people at this time of day, she was one of the last people he expected to hear from. "What- how did you- are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, but someone texted me saying I needed to call you because your mom just died. Jake, what happened? Are you okay?"

"No. I'm not," he whispered. The story spilled from his lips in between waves of crying. Annalise patiently listened, letting him get through it and stammer out the story. When he finished, he could hear muffled tears on the other end.

"Oh, God, Jake, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Are you home or still at the hospital?"

"I'm still at the hospital. Dad, he, uh, he said I wasn't welcome home after what I caused."

"You're there alone?!"

"Yeah..."

"Stay there, don't move. I'm coming over. Do you want me to stay on the phone while I drive there?"

"No, no, it's okay. You don't-"

Annalise interrupted him. "You shouldn't be alone right now. I'm coming to take care of you since your dad and brothers won't. Now, do you want me to stay on the phone while I drive there?"

"No. Focus on the road," Jake said, the urge to cry threatening to overwhelm him again, although this time, out of gratefulness for Annalise. What had he done to deserve her? What had Jake been thinking earlier about how she wouldn't care? Of course she would care if he died. That had been his grief talking. He realized that now.

"Okay. If I can't find you when I get there, I'll call you. I'll be there soon. Love you forever."

"Love you always."

Jake hung up and leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the torrential downpour with only the building's overhang to prevent him from getting soaked. The wind caused a chill in the air that would send most people scurrying for a jacket, but Jake hardly felt it. Lightning crackled menacingly above him and struck the ground nearby, but he disregarded the danger it posed, figuring Mother Nature couldn't hurt him near as much as the loss of his mom.

An SUV soon parked in front of the doors, and Annalise hopped out of the car. Jake met her gaze. Seeing her concern, seeing her standing there at the hospital just for him, broke him. The numbness disappeared, and Jake rushed to greet her, sobbing into Annalise's shoulder as she cradled his head and hugged him as tightly.

"I don't know where to go," Jake croaked out when the tears finally abated. He pulled away and wiped them off his face. Annalise was the only person Jake felt comfortable crying in front of. He knew she wouldn't judge him for it. "Dad doesn't want me home right now, if ever, and I don't know what to do because we head to college in a couple weeks, and I need to pack, but now I have to attend Mom's funeral, and-"

"Jake-" Annalise interrupted calmly, garnering his attention. He was shocked to see tear stains on her cheeks. "I think the best thing for you right now is for you to come to my house and get out of this storm. Rest first, and then we can figure out what to do from there, okay?"

"We?"

"You didn't think I would let you go through this all alone, did you? What do we always say?"

"I love you forever."

"Exactly. And I love you always." Annalise smiled softly. "I've got your six. Come on. Let's get home."

The friends slid into the SUV and headed home in the torrential downpour. Jake kept his eyes downcast, unable to look at the road ahead. He'd tried initially, but when panic built in his chest when a car passed them from the opposite direction, he decided against doing that for the rest of the trip. Annalise must've noticed because she reached over and took his hand. As much as he wanted both hands on the wheel, Jake also found comfort in her touch, so he allowed it.

When they arrived at the Blackwood household, the pair shuffled in. Charlie and Jackie were seated at the bar eating breakfast. Jake temporarily wondered where Mr. Blackwood was but figured he was on another business trip. The two women turned around at the sound of the garage door shutting and immediately jumped from their seats at the sight of Annalise and Jake. To his surprise, Charlie went to him first and, without a word, pulled him into a motherly hug. He sank into it. She wasn't his mom, but in this moment, she was the closest thing to one.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," Charlie whispered. "Whatever you need, we're here for you."

"Thank you, ma'am," he mumbled sincerely, unable to gather the strength to speak any louder. Now that the adrenaline and chaos had subsided, exhaustion swept over Jake. 

Charlie pulled away and gently grasped his shoulders. "Why don't you take a shower, and I'll get some spare clothes for you to change into?"

"I can crash in these-"

"Honey, it's not good for you to stay in those clothes any longer."

"Yes, ma'am..."

Mrs. Blackwood smiled sympathetically. "It's always Charlie to you. Get going. You can use our guest room. I'll drop the clothes on your bed."

Jake nodded, thanked her once more, then ambled to his destination. Almost robotically, he shut the bathroom door behind him, stripped his clothes, and stepped into the shower the second he turned it on. The water had yet to warm up, so it felt like small pellets of hail striking his skin for a few seconds, but Jake ignored it, the shock of today still inhibiting most of his senses. He went through the motions of washing his hair and body, turning off the water, drying off, and wrapping the towel around his waist. He peered into the bedroom, saw the door to it shut, and a clean set of clothes lying on the bed. Jake changed into them and folded his dirty suit, placing it on the chair. As he did, he noticed the red stain on the collar of his shirt. Knowing he hadn't been injured or cut in the crash, the only logical conclusion he could form was that it came from his mom when he dragged her out of the wreck. 

The accident replayed suddenly in his mind, and Jake collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in his hands while he quietly sobbed. A few moments later, the mattress sank in beside him. He looked up to find Annalise; she had tears in her eyes, but her voice was steady when she said, "I, uh, I brought you some tea. Chamomile. It's supposed to help calm anxiety. I figured after the night you've had..."

Jake reached for the mug on his nightstand, staring at the amber liquid. "Thank you. For everything."

"I'm glad I was able to be there. I'll let you get some rest. I just wanted to drop this off and check on you one more time."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Who told you what happened? Where I was?"

"I don't know. They called me until I picked up. When I finally did, they hung up. But I saw a text from the same number giving me a brief sitrep and your location. I called you right after."

"What's the number?" Jake asked, frowning. Annalise pulled out her phone and rattled it off, and surprisingly, Jake recognized it. "That's Matt's number. He didn't want to leave me, but I yelled at him to..."

"I'll let him know you're here and safe. I'm sure he's worried." Annalise put her phone back into her pocket. "I'll leave you alone-"

"No, no. I don't- could you stay for a bit?"

"Of course," Annalise replied without hesitation. She crawled to the other side of the bed and leaned against the headboard. Jake sidled next to her, his arm brushing hers. "Do you want the TV on or no?"

"You can watch it; I don't mind."

Annalise nodded and turned it on. She flipped through the channels until she landed on Hallmark. Jake watched it with her in silence. Slowly, his eyelids became heavier and heavier, he started sliding down unintentionally under the covers, and his head lolled onto Annalise's shoulder. Once that happened, Jake was out like a light. The last thing he remembered was feeling the weight of his friend's head resting atop his and thinking how she was the only rock in his life now. Without her, God only knows what would happen to him.

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @kmc1989

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11

If you're not on the tag list and want to be, just let me know :)

[crisis-aversion]

Some random wrap up thoughts either from after the fact or that I didn’t post at the time I had them:

(Under the cut bc I went on longer than I thought)

I love Zeller. Will should have bullied him more (affectionate)

Gallows humour strikes again but it’s so funny how the running jokes range from grim dark “Chilton almost dies every season” to innocent “Hannibal really hates Will’s aftershave”

Chilton always trying to say the things least likely to get him killed any time he’s been kidnapped. You can see the moment he failed his perception check on that last one with Dolarhyde

I was gonna say that Dolarhyde shooting himself was very anticlimactic. And then he showed up again

Despite being married Will and Molly barely have couple vibes. At all

Chilton essentially predicted this outcome three years ago. Actually he was right (or half right) about a lot of things that I bet Jack regretted ignoring him about

I’ve known about The Fall for a Long Time through fandom osmosis. Thing is I always expected it to have been like. Intentionally jumping off the cliff together to escape the police. Not. Actually just falling

BEVERLY DESERVED BETTER

Chilton also did not deserve to be tortured so much but it’s not nearly as devastating as Beverly. Also his is at least funny

It’s both kinda funny and kinda messed up that Will’s “memories” of Abigail talking to him in the hospital was basically just written over Chilton being there

On that note Chilton probably wasn’t actually the only person to visit Will in the hospital. But the fact that he’s the only one shown to have is really funny. And he brought him flowers!

To be fair he brought Alana flowers too but still

“May I use you shower please?” Is still one of the most morbidly funny scenes in the show

Imagine vibing in your house, possibly wondering when our ex-psychiatrist is gonna kill your other ex-psychiatrist, when the second psychiatrist shows up on your doorstep covered in blood and shaking like a chihuahua

Chilton pulls a gun on Will when he finds out he called Jack but he’s shaking so badly I genuinely don’t think he’d have hit him even if he had pulled the trigger. From two feet away

Bedelia has technically killed at least two people and genuinely no one cares

Hannibal gets called in to consult on a case, shows up to fake shock and concern, gets in the way, solves the case on his own without telling anyone, wanders off to kill the murderer, and tells Jack the guy he’s looking for is in his pile of bodies via riddle

Imagine being a murderer hiding out in a grain silo and you’re carrying your latest victim in, only to have this grinning maniac on your roof be like “hi :)”

if this was a supernatural horror I’d be 100% convinced Chilton cannot die. How. How

The dogs have a taste for human now

If I had a nickel for every time a character lost their face. I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice

half the time when you put the entire FBI team in one room they’re just insulting each other and not actually focusing on the task at hand

I have not given Price enough attention during this liveblog (or it was always in conjunction with Zeller). I love Price

in case anyone was wondering from my previous metronoming about Chilton. Yes he ended up being my fave. I’m a sucker for a cockroach

HanniGram is just the evil version of JohnLock. Eccentric crime consultant with a Doctor friend who helps him out on cases, has killed someone for him, and totally isn’t his bf? The Fall? Yeah. It’s the same picture

Will is so mentally unwell every psychiatrist in a fifty mile radius desires him carnally

Will can say the wildest thing about a corpse and all he ever gets for it is the sideeye to beat all sideeyes. Everyone’s just agreed to not mention it

Everyone can be all action hero posed up ready to shoot and Will’s just standing there like🧍‍♂️

Jack gives Will the benefit of the doubt and brings some food from one of Hannibal’s dinner parties to the lab to test. And everyone’s just looking at him like “you want us to test leftovers?”

I wonder if after they tested it and found it was just. Normal food if they were like “our boss has lost his mind. But at least he brought us snacks!”

I’m half convinced when Hannibal framed Chilton he didn’t actually expect Miriam to shoot him. But he’s definitely not disappointed bc he does seem to relish in Chilton’s suffering especially

Everyone being like “Hannibal isn’t a cannibal!” In season two and meanwhile Chilton’s in the bg gagging

the tonal dissonance of a normal dinner jumpcutting to a literal murder

Hannibal quoting Dante in Italian for ✨Authenticity✨

Hannibal being an apex predator even when it comes to other serial killers. How many other murderers has he killed?

Hannibal and Will killing a dude together and Hannibal being like “this is all I ever wanted for us 😍 “ and meanwhile Will’s panting on the ground covered in (mostly) his own blood

Will basically telling Bedelia that he’s intentionally getting Hannibal out of jail and Hannibal is probably gonna eat her. And she doesn’t really react in any way. Or do anything about it

Chilton casually committing medical malpractice and still being the most normal psychiatrist here, mostly by virtue of not having killed anyone (that we know of)

Mason probably shouldn’t have had that eel in his floor

Love how everyone keeps calling Mason a serial killer as if he ever actually got the chance to kill anyone. He wanted to, sure, but he never managed it

tfw when the psychiatrist dating her patient’s sibling and helping her kill him for being abusive is in the least toxic relationship in the show

Chilton spends the first half of the show in the psychiatric version of Grey’s Anatomy and the second half in a psychological horror

half the characters in this show don’t seem to realize they’re in a psychological horror. But the ones who do are having a Time of it

Bayverse Optimus is now not the only character I can make the “give me your face”joke about

Chilton got to legitimately talk to Will once and basically immediately decided he was the good guy

✨Stabbing as a love language✨

If you asked Chilton what the worst day of his life was I wonder what he’d say. It definitely happened on the show though. His life just keeps getting progressively worse

Chilton once said they’re living on the best timeline (or roughly so). Considering that was after he got vivisected and shot in the face I wonder what his definition of the worst timeline would have been

Chilton mumbling that he hopes he hasn’t been burned while still drowsy from being drugged absolutely gave Dolarhyde ideas, rip

Hannibal talks like if a 17th century vampire had a kid with an art scholar

Will has a seizure and Hannibal’s just like “eh it’s only mild” and carries on with his day

Will shows up with Abel wanting Hannibal to confirm he’s not just hallucinating the guy. And Hannibal promptly gaslights him into thinking he’s not. And then just. Has a casual conversation with Abel while Will has a breakdown in the bg

[liightningchosen]

since some of you might not know:

using a stat tracker gives an IP and a general location. it does not give an address. i know this bc i don’t live at my town hall — i live 2 miles away. if you know my town... great? you can’t do anything with that other than walk around and hope to find me. 

people use stat trackers to see who’s on their blog. people use stat trackers when they’re scared they’re getting stalked. there’s 1000 reasons and all of them are valid. shaming someone for being vigilant is horseshit. 

all a stat tracker does is give a more concrete way to block / redirect, as that is ALL YOU CAN DO WITH THAT IP. if you’re that bothered by people worried about their safety, or you’re stalking someone and they block you, you deserve to be blocked. end of story.

[tteokdoroki]

saccahrine sundays | k.bakugou

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 5.3K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: katsuki can never find enough time to get some sleep. between being a full time pro hero, a father and a husband— hours of rest are hard to come by. unless it’s one of those sweet, sweet saccharine sundays.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to late twenties ), somnophilia, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), fingering ( female recieving ), tummy bulges, mating press, pregnancy!kink, daddy!kink, breeding!kink, light!exhibitionism, cumplay + needy bakugou has a praise!kink... <3

♡ author’s note(s): brrr hey guys! it feels like forever since i last posted a full fic, january was bleh so im happy to get this out !! special thanks to @greenchild for feeding me this idea and thank to all of you for your love, support and 2.8K. i love you all, enjoy <3

♡ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep. between being a pro hero and family life, the full eight to nine hours of pure rest wasn’t easy to come by— now he wasn’t complaining, he was far too grateful for the life he lead to whinge and whine about the finer details. bakugou was right on track to becoming the number two, he had a beautiful wife who loved him and supported him no matter how reckless he might have been and two little brats that he adored more than anything. he was miles ahead of his high school classmates, never letting up or resting so like he said, there was no room to complain.

but even as the faintest wisps of light slip through drawn curtains and a vermillion gaze settled on the old all might digital alarm clock ( reading 9:01 AM ), katsuki bakugou can’t help but feel grateful for the sleep he just had. no interruptions from wailing toddlers or infants who need changing, no late night call ins for patrols— none of that, just an arm around his wife’s waist and the soft sound of her breathing to coax him out of his sleepy state.

bakugou remembers now, a distant yet far from faint memory of where he and his wife spent two days of their honeymoon under slumber’s spell, having ravished each other the very night they arrived in paris for their honeymoon ( all mina’s idea, she had told katsuki it was the perfect destination for newly weds in love— and whilst the several districts his alien friend recommended did appease you, the blonde had promised to take you on a more luxurious getaway when he was hire up in the hero rankings ). of course that very honeymoon lead you to fall pregnant with your first little miracle— taiga bakugou, the very spitting image of her father except or the slight tilt to her nose and the sparkle in her eye that only her mother possessed.

raising her had proven to be both an enjoyable and exhausting experience for katsuki, with a matching explosive personality to rival even her daddy’s— there were many restless nights the pro hero spent butting heads with his daughter while his sweet spouse was away on missions and getting used to the field again. even during the pregnancy, full nights of rest were little to none— the cravings taiga gave you were almost unbearable for the blonde, not to mention the 2AM labour his little girl put you through...and yet he would repeat the last four years of lack of sleep all over again if it meant reliving every single moment with you. raising tatsumo was much better; however.

so as the weight of well deserved slumber lifts from katsuki’s shoulder’s he’s forced to deal with the memories of your sweet cries from the night (or rather, nights) he made you his wife. he stirs under cotton sheets, a familiar hardness pressing against his inner thigh as he recalls the way you tightened around him— “honey baby,” the desperate whisper tastes foreign, bitter across his tastebuds as he licks his lips. katsuki was usually much more composed when it came to sex, he could hold out for hours while you pleaded and begged of him to give you more. but this morning was different, very much so.

skilfully, the ash blonde slips a hand between your sheets, finger tips calloused with years of training and battle, dancing up your bare thighs from where you wear only his shirt and a pair of panties. the fingers trail up to your underwear, pressing them against your cunt as bakugou watches your face for any reaction— you twitch once before falling back into a deep slumber, letting your husband know that he can continue. he peels like orange silk away from your core and down your legs, half resisting the urge to sniff your undergarment like the dirty man he is but he decides that he can longer wait, already turned on by the feeling of your bare pussy against his hand.

the pro knows exactly how to turn you on, dragging is nails down your thighs just an inch from your wetness and his mind fogs with lust at the thought of the sounds you’d make for him if you were awake...not yet, he says to himself. his next move is to fuck your mouth, two of his digits sliding past parted lips from where you snore— gathering the drool that pools on the surface of your tongue. back and forth; move bakugou’s fingers until he’s satisfied with how wet you’ve made them with your spit. returning those very same fingers to your cunt, he parts your folds— already slightly sticky and hot with the nectar he’s used to savouring. if this were any other time, bakugou would be eating you out like a man starved of his last three meals but the rising sun tells him that his moments to fuck you are very few.

so now, he slides those lubed up fingers right into your tight little hole, shuddering under the sheets at how you automatically clamp around him— even while you sleep. katsuki’s vermillion eyes seek out your face in the warm light of the dusk, watching as your expression contorts into that familiar look of pleasure— lips blossoming into a cherry pout, brows furrowed as if you’re focusing on the way your husband makes you feel.

“fuck, honey baby, so good ‘n pliant for me even when yur fuckin’ sleepin’,” katsuki slurs against saliva that slips along his tongue, he’s hungry to fuck you, make you moan and scissors his fingers deep inside your obedient cunt in away that makes your slumbering body jump. pressing a thumb to your neglected clit, bakugou twists his fingers in search for your g-spot, pumping them into you with vigour. “gonna make you cum angel, baby, please cum while you’re like this s’you can take my cock.”

if there’s one thing pro hero dynamite knows, it’s that your body is a slave to him, no matter what state it’s in. your thighs part instinctively; giving your husband room to curl his fingers and press down hard on your pleasure spot— gummy walls sucking him in deeper. he makes you cum while you sleep, juices staining  your supple skin, honeyed from the warm light outside.

“atta girl, cummin’ for your husband like that even when you’re sleeping— so fuckin’ naughty...” katsuki grunts, locks of sun kissed hair beginning to plaster itself against his forehead. his body shakes with the desire to be inside of you, his internal temperature rising with every second that he’s not sheathed within your walls. pulling his fingers away from your twitching mound, bakugou slides them, cum soaked and all, into his mouth to taste your very sweetness. “would eatcha out like a starved man, honeybee, but we don’t gotta lot of time left baby...”

with that, bakugou shuffles his sweats down enough for his cock to spring free, tip bright red and leaking against his toned, scarred abdomen. with practised ease, he hooks your right leg over his waist and positions your dripping cunny right over the head of his length. it takes everything katsuki has not to plunge deep inside of you, to abuse your tempting cunt until it’s formed into the shape of his cock but for once he wants to take you slowly, enjoy his time with your limp body at his disposal.

pressing his girth against your slick entrance, your husband sighs, coating himself with the remainders of your delightful release. the mess you made just for him, makes it easier for him to guide his cock between your velveteen folds that take him so well. his free hand comes up to brush over your cheek and even in the depths of your rest you manage to nuzzle into katsuki’s palm and make his coo— what a precious little doll you are, so good for him and always so obedient no matter what state you’re in. fuck, it drives him so insane that he can’t even think straight.

“...suki....”

fucking hell. the way you sigh out for him so mawkishly whilst you dream makes him twitch, not even half the way inside you.  “c’mon honey baby, don’t go moanin’ my name like that when i haven’t even had a c-chance to make you mine yet—“ the blonde shudders, eyes screwing shut as he finally bottoms out inside of you. katsuki let’s out a choked moan, from deep within his chest while you welcome him into your lethally syrupy cunt. “ohh, fuck, that’s the stuff, good girl...”

bakugou’s thrusts start slow yet, forcing your limp body to jolt up the bed and your tits to bounce in tune with the rhythm of his hips— your little hole sucks him in so greedily, so selfishly, clamping down on him as if to prevent him from leaving your body as a whole. pro hero dynamite is shaken to his core, how can his precious baby take him so darlingly while she’s asleep, refusing to let go of him and keep his cock tucked away inside of you.

shit, shit, shit.

he wants to defile you, asleep or not, ruin how pure and angelic your body appears even after years of being together. it’s your fault he’s like this anyway, you deserve to have your pussy destroyed no matter the circumstances— ruby framed eyes threaten to roll back into his skull while bakugou picks up the swirl of his hips between your sticky thighs, you flutter and squeeze around the girth that’s stretched you out so many times before and yet you still remain a tight hole designed for your husband and your husband alone.

lips map their way up the column of your neck, committing every dip and scar and blemish to memory even though katsuki knows where each of them are. the amber colour of the morning sun highlights each of your marks, your husband giving you as many lovebites to match each one. “nn, suki...more..” you whimper, so quiet he almost misses it underneath the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin. could you feel how he deflowered you in your sleep? ruining such a good girl while you resting? he wants so bad to corrupt you from the inside.

static stretches across katsuki’s brain, crackling as his neurones fire and dopamine fizzes in his veins. cum. cum. breed her. it’s too soon but the blonde can’t help it, pent up and high on the morning sunrise— addicted to the taste of your skin licked with light perspiration. it’s been ages since he’s had you like this, can you blame him for not hanging on so long? bakugou lifts your thigh higher on his waist, using it as leverage to plough into the deepest parts of you, his precious wife, desperate to cream inside you before wake up.

“mm, know you’re close lovebug, won’t you cum for me suki?”

katsuki’s gaze hones in on you, vision blurred and hazy with lust from his impending orgasm. your own eyes are heavy with sleep but the soft smile on your face is filled with a familiar adoration and saccharine love that the blonde can never get tired of. he knows that you know your voice alone is another to send him speeding off of the cliff of release— your hole squeezing around him, beautiful hips that once brought his children into the world gracefully moving up and down to coax his girthy cock to its final release.

“honey baby,” katsuki whines like a broken man when you cup his face, hot puffs of air warming up the space between you.  his hips don’t let up though, driven by the way you move against him beneath the sheets, he’s so close he can almost taste it. “c-couldn’t wait for you to wake up, needed you so fuckin’ bad...”

your mouth hangs open in a quiet groan, getting lost in the claps of sweaty bodies against one another and katsuki latches onto your lower lips to swallow your noise— breathing it in and letting it spread through his body like oxygen. “oh, lovebug, y-you don’t...” you pause, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the angry tip of your husband’s cock grazes against your gummy spot, sending your walls into a flurry of flutters that make katsuki twitch. “ ...you don’t ever have to wait with me, d-don’t hold back, kay?”

you’re a breathless mess, a sight to behold and he can’t take not having you filled with his seed any longer. the lazy push and pull of your bodies smacking wetly against each other become erratic thrusts, heat pooling in the abdomen of the pro hero boiling him alive in feelings of desire for you and you alone.

bakugou quivers from his lips to his toes when he cums, filling your slippery walls with a creamy white and lining your insides with the claim of your man. your man. your husband. “fuck, fucking hell,  h-honey, gimme that pussy...gimmie that fuckin’ pussy,” his groans linger in the crisp early morning air, dancing with the static while he orgasms within you, endless bouts of white stuffing you to the brim. you kiss in an attempt to calm him, squeezing around his thick cock to ride out his high. you taste of orange liquor  and manuka honey, addicting while he sucks lavishly on your tongue and spares you the air you need to breathe. ‘cause at the end of the day call you need is him.

“did you cum, precious one?” ever the gentleman, katsuki has to ask but even you can see in his blood red ruby eyes ( no matter how tired they may seem ) that he’s gearing up for a second round, shallow thrusts pushing his own release  deeper into your fertile womb. there’s about thirty minutes until the kids wake up, but your lover can make you see stars in fifteen.

you shake your head once as bakugou rolls you onto your back— strong arms caging you into the prison if his love. large hands dance tenderly up the back of your thighs and you meet his eyes with such a saccharine smile his heart bursts at the sight of you. “you’re insatiable, lovebug,” the tingling notes of your moan caresses bakugou’s cheek as he manoeuvres your legs to fold you into a mating press, shifting his weight above you. “did you really need me that much, daddy bear?”

“think y’already know the answer to that, honeybee,” katsuki drawls, tripping over his words filled, oh so generously with blazing desire. he still remains sheathed inside you, a darling whine dripping from his cherry lined lips— the ones sore from kissing you— as he gives an experimental thrust into the tight heat of your core. you accept him willingly, opening up for him like a blossoming flower which makes katsuki’s hot breath stutter from the overstimulation. neither of you can look away, sharing the intimate moment of his length sinking into you— katsuki groans as you suck him in inch by inch before leaning over and attaching his lips to yours, licking at the seam of them in order to coax them open. his wife is a tease however; denying him the pleasure of sucking on her tongue...for now at least.

but it’s all worth it, for katsuki wants to burn the erotic sight of you beneath him into his mind forever. your skin shines like it was kissed by the setting moon, eyes hooded and holding a lust that only burns brightly for him while your chest heaves in anticipation of your husband claiming you for the second time that morning. “m-move suki, please—c-can’t...” the tail end of your pleas fall away with the fading night sky.

the man doesn’t need to be told twice.

save for a few shallow thrusts to get going, katsuki soon finds himself pistoning into you at an unruly, god speed pace. the blonde revels in the way one hand of yours twirls strands of his hair between your fingers whilst the other digs crescent moons into his blemished honey skin. helpless huffs and candied cries tickle bakugou’s ears while he presses your body flush against his and pins you down with his hips.

their movements don’t ever waver, cock catching on every ridge your damp pussy has to offer him, each thrust calculated amplify your pleasure that rolls in heatwaves throughout your body. katsuki’s mind grows blank, thick with the mirage you’ve cast over him from the way you push back against him, taking more of his inches into you.

“ngh, lovebug,” you say, high off of euphoria while katsuki’s leaking cock bears down harshly on your g-spot and you smile up at him deliriously— looking like the eighth wonder of the world. you grab the hand your husband uses to keep your thighs up and bring it down to your tummy for him to feel what you feel. “can feel your cock inside me, love, so big...makin’ my tummy bulge like a good daddy bear...”

something snaps within katsuki at the sound of your breathless praise; a feral blaze setting alight deep inside his chest— spreading throughout his body as his cock drives deeper and deeper inside your spongy, wet cunt— just about breaching the gates of your cervix. breed her. fuck her. make her swollen with your cum. bakugou can’t even think straight; intoxicated by the way you move against him, the way you look so full of him and his thick length.

he wants you to look full all of the time. so katsuki does with the only way he knows how. dropping his head to your neck, sharp attack your neck with blossoms of bruises forming under your skin in the name of love— you whine, a gorgeous symphony of his name against his ear while you tangle your fingers in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. “y’can’t jus...jus say stuff like that to me, honey...” bakugou croons against your skin, screwing his eyes shut while his hips pick up the pace and plunging his length right into your womb. the sounds of your arousal wetly spill into the sex scented air— fuelling katsuki to thrust into you faster. “not if you...n-not if you don’t want me to fuck another one of those shitty brats into you.”

as stuttered as his words are, bakugou means every single one of them. a primal desire activates in the back of his mind, overriding every single of senses. just the thought of lining your womb with his pungent seed, making you pregnant once again and seeing you round and full with katsuki’s child is enough to drive him off of the rails. And the pro hero knows that you feel the same, he can tell by the way your heat clamps down on his cock and strangles him, as if to milk him of every ounce of his cum.

“yes, want you to make me pregnant suki, make me a mommy again, please—!”  you simper out loud, desperate tears springing to your eyes while the bed groans beneath you. visions of you round and swollen with a baby drives him to thrust into you harder, faster so that more and more of his precum spills into you. “know you want it, want it too...your cum, deep inside me—ohmygod suki—yes!”

bakugou slaps a hand over your mouth, watching as your sweet doe eyes brim with tears at the languid roll of his hips against yours. “careful honeybee, don’t want the kids to...fuckin’ hell... h-hear—“ he stutters, eyes rolling, limbs shaking violently. his other hand drops between your conjoined bodies, drawing vicious circles into your swollen clit to draw you closer and closer to the edge. star dust is littered behind your eyes, the bright white signifying the race to your high that only katsuki can give to you. “or do you want to be heard, you want everyone to hear how full you’re gonna become when i get you pregnant again. how you’ll whine and beg me to suck on your tits when you start makin’ that sweet milk for our baby. is that what you fuckin’ want, yn?”

you can’t help the way your pussy flutters around his cock that brutally grazes your g-spot— the dirty words your husband speaks like music to your ears. a symphony with his moans and the sounds of his balls slapping against your bare ass.  “oooh, shit baby, you must do with the way your lil cunny clamps down on me—just like that...”

“oh god, lovebug please...cum...cum! need it daddy bear—can’t take it anymore,” you babble against katsuki’s hand, brain turning to mush at the unbearable pleasure. the knot in your tummy becomes tighter, close to snapping as the white light of pleasure clouds your view.

patterns drawn diligently against your clit speed up; turning to quick figure of eights to tease your orgasm. “‘course you fuckin’ do honey baby, my little breeding bitch. my sweet little wife who can’t wait to be a mommy again. take this cock, you dirty whore. take it and I’ll give you my fuckin’ baby.” bakugou slurs, losing all control as the pace of his hips begins to falter. you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, tip pulsing with the need to paint your insides.

your gazes lock within the frenzy, while your back arches and hips lift to take your husband deeper inside you. dynamite is feral like you’ve never seen before; an animal reduced purely back to instinct. unfocused red eyes become teary like your own with hot pleasure while they lock onto you but you know that behind lust; loved the adoration and love your husband holds for you. thats all you need to reach the edge and tumble into your orgasm,

it takes but a few more thrusts and a pinch to your clit before you’re cumming— release squirting out and splattering against bakugou’s toned abdomen.

the blonde never lets up while you cum undone on his iron hot rod, letting him pump into you with unrelenting feverishness. katsuki is desperate, needing an extra push even with you strangling his cock with your insides. “s-say you’ll make your daddy a daddy baby, say you’ll give me another fucking kid. fuck, fuck yeah...please honey baby—“ bakugou damn near sobs, trembling violently above you as his breath hitches with ever hiccup.

smiling gently, you pull his head to your neck, cradling your husband while his pace slows to circular grinds. “i’ll make you a daddy again, you can cum for me now lovebug...”

“shit, shit, oh god— cummin’...” thats all bakugou needs to hear before bottoming out inside of your abused hole—  screaming against your bitten flesh and forcing his cock into your fertile womb as he sprays with his thick, sticky seed. white coats every ridge and crevice of your pussy while impatient thrusts slow to sensual grinds. you feel the tears of neediness soak the supple skin of your neck, rocking your hips against katsuki to milk his cock for all it’s worth— even if slow waves of his cum seep down your folds and to the sheets below.

“g’morning, katsuki,” you sigh blissfully, fingers combing through your lover’s sweaty mop of sun kissed locks. the pair of you lie still, limbs still intertwined as you catch your breath under the orange hues of the light outside.

your husband shifts his head to look at you, eyelids heavy over blood red eyes with a satisfied look on his face. he’ll never get over having you all to himself first thing in the morning— katsuki bakugou will always consider that a luxury and as he looks to you, a great smile soon takes his features. “yeah...good fucking morning to you too, angel face,” bakugou doesn’t dare pull out of you, intent on keeping his word. “love you yn, you’re always so good to me...”

katsuk’s lips mould into a pout as you continue your earlier ministrations of brushing back sweat slicked hair away from his face before pressing a chase kiss to his lip and making his cock twitch from over sensitivity, inside of you. he was always a sucker for the romantic moments after a passionate round of sex, he was a domestic, love struck son of a bitch what could he say? “suki...lovebug, you know you can pull out if it’s too much,” you remind him, the sound of your voice pulling his attention back to you. as he stares; katsuki maps out every detail of your face, the way your eyes glitter in the mellow light that peeks from between closed curtains or the slight dip across your cheek in the form of a scar from where you’d been injured on the field— he spends time committing it all to memory as if it’s the last time he’ll get to witness such beauty. “you’re staring, bug.”

“nuh uh, not pulling out.” huffing, bakugou leans up for another kiss, which you happily provide him with as he curls up onto your chest like a kitten seeking warmth. “keepin’ you plugged full s’you can get preggers like i fuckin’ promised.”

“you were serious?” you question him first, earning yourself another grouchy huff before your eyes roll and a comfortable silence sweeps across your bedroom, periodically interrupted by the morning birds waking up and chirping. “always a man of your word, huh bug? don’t worry, we’ll make you a daddy bear soon, but i’ve got to clean up before the kids wake up.”

“don’ you fuckin’ move— leave the dumbass kids, they’ll be fine on their own.”

“not with taiga’s quirk coming through, now move, you’re heavy.”

with that, you manage to shove bakugou off of you and he only hisses lightly as his softened cock hits the cold air, already missing your heat. the banter between you both as husband and wife is always light and you always win; he wants to bite back but anything he says will be soft on his sharp tongue. damn you and you being the love of his life. bakugou watches as you fix his shirt over your frame and head to your en-suite bathroom to make yourself more presentable to your kids— mumbling something about how many times katsuki came inside of you.

sure there was a lot of it, but he’d only cum inside you twice and he was trying to give you a baby. again.

the shower turns on and he can hear the sound of water running but it doesn’t cover your sweet voice as you call for him. he could never miss that. “katsuki bakugou, you horny bastard, i love you, my daddy bear!” you sing for him; making the blonde smile.

“i love you more, honey baby,” he chuckles back, tucking himself back into sweats before settling back into the ruined sheets.

bakugou was so luckily to have you and you’re beautiful children— he wouldn’t trade any moment of his life for the world except for maybe more time with you. he swore, he’d spend forever loving you if he could.

“daddy?” sweet thoughts are cut off by the groggy voice of bakugou’s eldest daughter, taiga, who stands in the doorway of his bedroom rubbing her cherry red eyes.

the blonde grins, rising from his place in bed and crossing the room in three short strides. he quickly crouches down in front of his little girl and ruffle her unruly mop of matching blonde hair. “g’morning brat, what’s up?”

taiga clutches her shoto plushy tightly, the one uncle todoroki had gotten her for her first birthday ( the one that bakugou hated because it was his daughter’s favourite— kirishima hated it too because he had always thought he was the favourite uncle ), and pouts down at her father, scowling sleepily. bakugou knows if you could see the two of them now, you’d be saying she was the spitting image of him. “tatsumo woke up n wouldn’t stop whinin’, fink he’s hungry, daddy!” the little girl grumbles, clearly still reeling in the after effects of her sleep that got cut short.

“how about we go get him and make some pancakes then?” katsuki suggests softly, hauling his daughter onto his bare shoulders and being mindful not to drop her stupid fuckin’— i mean her plushy to the ground. “y’gonna help me mix up enough batter for ya ma n’ brother, you got that brat?”

taiga squeals as at the new found height, wrapping a singular chubby arm around bakugou’s head for support, making his heart burst at the tiny hand that grips his chin. fuck, he loved his life. “only if we can add choco chwips, daddy!”

“oi, don’t you push your fuckin’ luck with me brat, ya mommy might let you get away with eatin’ shit like that but not me—“ bakugou makes an attempt to scold his daughter while they make way towards his son’s room, but he already knows he’s going to give into her. he can’t say no to taiga.

“i’ll tell mommy you cursed at me!”

“why you little sh—“

“careful, katsuki, if you keep cursing her out i might have to put you on punishment later,” taiga bursts in to wriggly giggles on bakugou’s shoulders, making it harder to keep her in place as you brush past him to grab tatsumo from the nursery.

“daddy’s gonna get in trouble!”

the teasing tone to your voice lingers in the air while you fetch your son, who seems groggy and pouty when he comes into katsuki’s view— wrapped up in your arms while you wear a cleaner shirt of his. there’s that glint in your eye, similar to the one your children posses when they’re doing something mischievous. and  that alone tells the ash blonde he’ll be getting punished in ways that could lead to another little one rushing through your house.

bakugou can roll with that.

but for now; he reaches up and pinches taiga’s nose— telling her to stop running her mouth and sending you into giggles while you carry your children downstairs for breakfast. katsuki bakugou couldnt remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep, but what he did know is that he’d always remember the very saccharine mornings he’d get to spend with you and your beautiful children after.

bonus:

“taiga, did you put chocolate chips in the batter even though i told you no?”

bakugou had turned his back for but a mere second to grab some milk for tatsumo; who played happily with smooshed bits of banana in his high chair— and suddenly, the batter was littered with the offending, tiny pieces of candy.

“no, it was mommy!”

“yn...”

you quickly throw your hands up in the air as defence, dropping the packet of sinful treats to the counter. “what? i’m having cravings, bakugou!”

“you’re not even pregnant, yn!” the man himself raises his spatula at you accusingly with a scowl, biting down on his tongue to prevent himself from cursing again.

you smile up at your husband, knowing he can’t stay mad at you for long. “but i will be, katsuki, it’s the thought that counts.” your eyes flicker up as you wipe the melted chocolate on your finger tips off with your tongue before moving to settle your daughter down for breakfast. bakugou splutters, cheeks flaming with a reddish rose at the thought of your soon to be baby and all the activity that comes with making one which makes you laugh. “oh and lovebug? your pancakes are burning.”

with a jump, katsuki turns to flick off the flame and save his batch of pancakes while you tend to your kids— leaving him to contemplate over your chocolate chip breakfast, how lucky he was to have you.

“i crave chocolate, can i get a pregnant?” taiga squeals shortly after.

“not a chance in hell, brat.”

♡ taglist:

@ozzy-bozzy @bakugous-mamas @meg-mystic @runningon-5percentsleep @cyans-bliss @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @paintedr0ses1 @69meggg69 @sapphoscolonoscopy @toshidou @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @candybabey @alrunemara​ @greenchild​

[imagines-hoarder]

House Warming - Bucky Barnes

Summary: Hopping through some standout moments in making Bucky's apartment a place worth coming home to. (This definitely could have been a headcanon but I refuse to do headcanons at this time.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2.6 k

Warnings: fluff with a lil angst

A/N: I have finished all the assignments left for my degree and decided to sit down and write today. This is probably trash but idc because it has been written and therefore I may as well release it. It's been a while since I've written and years since I've truly tried dipping my foot into a different fandom, but I figured I'd give it ago. Please don't forget to leave comments, I love interacting with y'all. Thank you @bwbatta​ for the dividers! xoxox

Masterlist

It all started with a damn candle. A ‘sandalwood & vanilla orchid’ candle tucked away in a reused cyan jar.

“I found it at the art market down the street last weekend,” you said as you placed it in the corner of the living room window. “You know we have to support local business.”

“And I shouldn’t assume this is your way of telling me my place smells, right?” Bucky quipped from the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He’d just gotten back from a 12-day mission with Sam, and the last thing he had on his to-do list was to buy candles.

The smile grew firmer as you put yourself into his arms. “Complete opposite, actually. I bought it cause I thought it smelled just like you.” You hid your face within his chest, and he thanked the stars that you couldn’t see the warmth rising in his cheeks. His barren apartment felt a little bigger with a candle in the windowsill.

From there it became decorative pillows… and a couch to hold them. The small living room had quickly become a mess by the time you both had brought it up to his fourth-floor apartment, furniture wrap and packing peanuts strewn everywhere.

“I still don’t know why you needed to buy a sofa this big,” Bucky grumbled as he leaned over the back of the beige three-seater, looking down at your splayed out across its cushions.

“Don’t get me wrong, babe. I love the transient bachelor look you’ve got going on here, but you need more furniture than an armchair,” you mumbled between heavy breaths as you tried to regain control from maneuvering the couch into the apartment.

“And the pillows?” A laugh fell from your lips as you watched him look at the indigo cushions with a remarkable amount of disdain. Who buys pillows made just to look nice on a couch?

“They add character.”

“I didn’t think character was an area we were lacking in. Transient bachelor, remember?” He walked around the couch and shifted you over so he could lay beside you. You instinctively curled into him as you both closed your eyes. For a second the place felt like home. “I also don't know how you plan for us both to fit on this couch every day along with the pillows.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You looked up from his chest with a mischievous glint that made his heart skip. “It’s a pullout bed too. I’m sure it’ll be firm enough even for you.”

The home improvements didn’t stop there, but Bucky refused to admit how much he enjoyed them.

He liked having a place and person to come home to. After you had bought neutral bedding for his room, you’d spent an evening putting together ‘his and hers’ trestle bookcases for either side of the bed. He’d try to keep up his crabbish demeanor as you argued that ‘you needed a place to set your books for when you slept over,’ and a side table could no longer contain the small collection you had spilling over. Even still, he couldn’t find it in himself to banter much about the minor changes you made to make the place feel lived in.

And God, did he love living with you around. Between missions, his continued therapy, and trying to find his place in a world that had tripled in opportunity since his youth, he knew that he never had to question who he was and where he fit in when he walked through that door. You still occasionally slept at your own apartment when he was away, but he could always count on you being asleep in his bed by the time he came home.

One toothbrush in a glass became two, and from there, hand creams, face masks, and cotton pads cluttered the bathroom counter, packed away in their clear containers. You had made sure to keep lavender bath salts on hand for the late-night baths you took together when he woke up in a panic, unable to close his eyes again for fear of falling back into a nightmare.

It took time and working through plenty of hesitation before Bucky could progress from sleeping on the pull-out sofa to the bed, but ever since, you found your nights attended by restlessness whenever you weren’t wrapped in his arms.

Once your lease was up and you had a lengthy conversation about your inability to rest without him, you quickly filled the apartment with brown boxes. Bucky had been no less than astounded by how much you fit into them. From then on, no nook or cranny was without a vase or shelf.

“How many mugs does one house need,” Bucky asked skeptically while he continued to carefully pull them from their paper wrappings.

“Oh, come on! They’re fun!” You exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his waist as you took the Charlie Brown mug from his metal palm. “Plus, we go through enough coffee around here to justify some extra mugs.”

After you put the mug into the lowest shelf of the cabinet, you busied yourself with filing away the spices one cabinet over. No matter how much he tried, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from you, lost in your own world as you chipped away at unpacking your belongings, making yours his, and vice versa. The domesticity in the little things you did was something he could get used to, and he wanted to return the feeling of normalcy as much as he could. He was far from the average boyfriend, but you remind him that could be a good thing. You never wanted to be average, but in these small moments, as you both did what normal couples do, he felt that he could create a new normal with you.

“So your Christmas gift came in already, and it’s too big to hide.” Your awkward tone carried over the phone as he exited a station ten minutes away from the apartment. Even though his neck ached and the cold nipped at the top of his ears, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a breathy laugh.

“I thought you said you were good at this gift-giving thing, doll,” he teased you as he maneuvered his way to your shared apartment.

“Oh, don’t you fret, baby. I am the best gift-giver in all of New York City. I just slightly miscalculated how big this thing was and have realized it won’t fit into our closet.”

He tsked with a smirk on his face. “If you say so.”

“Hey, you gave me my Christmas gift a week ago.”

“Yeah, that’s because I didn’t know if I’d be back before Christmas.”

“Well, you will be, and I’m glad you are,” your voice softened lovingly as he pulled out his keys to the front of the building.

Bucky had gotten used to your love, but he’d vow to never take it for granted. All the pain he’d endured had somehow led him to you, the person who didn’t see his broken pieces as a burden or a project but as a potential to be whatever he desired.

When he hung up the call and unlocked the apartment, his brows furrowed into one; the apartment was pitch black. It was only when he heard your soft footstep walking towards the entrance that his face relaxed.

Before he could even kiss you, you had your palms firmly placed over his eyes. “No peeking; your gift is in the living room.”

The uncertainty in what you could have got him made his stomach clench. “Is it an animal?”

You slowly dragged him through the front hallway, making sure to avoid crashing into the entryway storage table. “I’m sorry to say it’s not alive.”

“Is it a nice welcome-home spread with candles, fruit, and the pullout bed all set up?”

He could feel your eyes roll to completion. “Easy there, sergeant. That’s for later.” You pulled him down to sit on the couch, and he kept his eyes closed as you pulled your palms away, moving to turn on a lamp. “Okay, Buck. open up.”

When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing nestled against the wall; when he did recognize it, he could only form two words “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit indeed.”

He was quick to stand up and cross the room, eager to get a good look at the walnut centerpiece. “Does it work?”

You scoffed as you moved to kiss his cheek. “What kind of girlfriend would get her ancient boyfriend a broken phonograph console?”

He didn’t even attempt to answer as he bent down to wrap his arms around you, his lips eager to find yours. “A fucking Magnavox radio and phonograph,” he mumbled against your lips.

“A working Magnavox radio and phonograph, you mean.” When you pulled away and saw that his face held a glow reserved only for special occasions, you knew you had made the right choice. “I’ve got some records wrapped up if you want to open those now too.”

You yelped in surprise as he picked you up and made his way towards your bedroom. “I’ve got something else I’d like to unwrap first.”

Bucky Barnes had grown up in a period when the average family could seldom afford nice things or much of anything at all. The Great Depression has resulted in the slogan ‘Make it do or Do without,” being ingrained into what memories he still had, and 'doing without' had become commonplace for the Barnes household.

That’s why every gadget and gizmo you added to your household left him in awe. For much of his life, including the decades he spent as a weapon for Hydra, he hadn’t been allowed to call anything his own; he was still getting used to living so plentifully, both in love and in life. But now, he could barely move and he thought it had all been taken away from him.

The attack was supposed to have been contained, at least three miles away from the apartment. Anything less, and he would have made you visit your family upstate instead of just suggesting it. By the time Sam had told him that there’d been some confirmed damage within a block of the apartment, Bucky was already on his way home. He couldn’t think of anything but the worse: you trapped in a collapsing apartment building or pulling up to find no building there at all.

He felt his lungs fill with air again as he pulled up to your building, completely intact regardless of the severe damage less than a five-minute walk away. It felt like both seconds and hours between when he parked his outside and unlocked the front door.

“He doesn’t have his phone on him, mom. How am I supposed to…” you trailed off from your call as he walked into the living room, turning your head away from the Breaking News report you’d been glued to for the last hour. “Wait, I’ll call you back. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you back.” Your eyes never left his as he walked over to you, hanging up the phone with worry in your eyes. “Buck, are you oka-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pulled you off of the couch and into his arms. His grip was less reserved than he usually kept, but he made sure not to hurt you, eager to keep you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. A single tear fell from the corner of his eyes as he realized the real possibility that he could have lost you if you lived even 5 minutes closer to the attack. You stayed like that for a while, gathered tightly in his arms as you both settled onto the floor You didn’t push him to verbalize his fear; you already understood it. And it took this occurrence for him to realize he never wanted to experience this feeling again.

Bucky was quiet for the rest of the evening, and while it worried you, his fear had been evident enough not to require questioning. The city-wide cleanup had lasted all hours of the night; for the first time in all the years you had lived in the city, the sounds of the whirring of vehicles clearing debris off the street had been too close to ignore. The sun was rising before a single word was said between you and Bucky, tangled together on the sofa as the first ray of light made itself known.

“You’ve spent so much time piecing this place together, doll.” His voice was raspy. You know he hates when you see him cry, but his pain was always evident in his voice. “And it could have been all wiped away in seconds.” You let a heavy silence settle between you as you traced a pattern into his shoulder. He couldn’t bear to say it, but you knew what he meant: You could have been gone within seconds. “I just… I don’t ever want to feel like this again.”

You’d both gone through so much to make your relationship work. Nearly normal was as close as you would ever attain to being an average couple. The distance, the days without contact, and the ever-present fear that anything could pull you away from one another was something that had taken time to work through.

You looked around the living room and saw the place you had built together. There were photos and books scattered on any flat surface, a leftover mug half-filled with cold tea, and a record left out on the phonograph. The apartment looked like what love felt like; a messy combination of everything you and Bucky. But this apartment could not contain everything that ‘home’ was; only Bucky could do that.

The words fell from your mouth before you could restrain them. “Maybe we should move.”

Your eyes found each other, and you both sat in silence, though it felt lighter, invigorated with the new proposition.

Before he even responded, you could see tension dissolve from his shoulders. “Where do you want to move?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead, only being able to provide him with a shrug. “I don’t know… maybe upstate, maybe somewhere else.”

“Your mom would like you being Upstate.”

“My mom would love us living next door too, but I don’t see that in the cards anytime soon.” You got a ghost of a smile for that.

“We could probably afford a house if we moved out there,” he said as he moved his lips to meet your forehead.

“Buck, I’d move anywhere with you. As long as we have each other, then we have all we need to rebuild this place.”

He pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head, and you swore you felt his chest flutter. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna look for some places, bigger ones too.” He tilted your head up to find your eyes, and you were sure that all of the love you carried for each other was incredibly visible at that moment. “You have made this apartment something worth coming home to. Now let me give you a house to make a home.” Your skin tingled with adoration as you pulled him as close as possible, burying your face into his neck.

You didn’t want to let go. You wanted to lay in this room, in this bed, and in this moment until the end of time, but you knew that something bigger and better was on the horizon for you and Bucky.

“All I heard is that you’re buying me a house.” His laugh was music to your ears.

[kloudheart]

(Ok, so this is just a little something that came into my mind late at night. I was watching something and one of the characters said "Can we just stay like this?" and my mind just went off so quickly. This is a steddie blurb, which picks up after the events in vol. 2. Yes, Eddie lives because I said so. (Also, Thank you so much for all the love on my steddie camp counselor headcanons!! That makes me so so happy that you guys liked them <333))

Warnings: Implications of death and small mentions of blood

   It was late at night, the sky pitch black with only little sparks of stars giving light to the eerie night. No sounds tampered with the town's rest, not even nature uttered noises. Steve lay in his bed next to Eddie, his body twisting and turning slightly as it radiated with heat. Steve's face scrunched up, his eyes rolling back and forth fearfully underneath his shut eyelids. Incoherent words spilled from his lips as his breathing quickened into a pant. Eddie, who had been sleeping peacefully beside him, slowly awoke from Steve's actions.

  "Hmm...Steve, it's three in the morning, what are you doing?" Eddie sleepily asked, his eyes fluttering open as he slowly raised his body from its sleeping position. His vision was still blurry, but he could feel Steve's frantic movements and hear his cut up sentences.

  "No... Please... Eddie, no..." Steve muttered, his breathing quickening by the second. Eddie quickly blinked a couple of times, fixing his sight as he sat up on the bed. Hearing his name being spoken from Steve's frantic, scared mouth had Eddie panicking as he tried to wake him.

  "Hey, Steve. Steve, come on, wake up," Eddie stammered, grabbing Steve's shoulder and shaking them slightly. Steve's panicked body shook, fighting whatever horrors haunted his dreams.

  "Steve! Wake up!" Eddie shouted, shaking him a little harder. As he let out a loud gasp with his eyes opening wide, Steve woke up, his body lifting up so fast he almost hit Eddie's head. Steve's chest heaved as he struggled for air, his body drenched in a cold sweat and his mind running a thousand miles a minute.

 "Steve, are you ok?" Eddie asked as he calmed down from his panic, his voice softer and calm. Steve's breathing slowed down a bit as he looked up at Eddie, staring straight into his big brown eyes as if he saw a ghost. They sat there for almost a minute in pure silence, other than Steve's breathing slowly calming.

  "Hey, what-" Eddie began, but quickly got cut off as Steve's arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a sudden hug. Eddie took a second to realize what was happening, then slowly wrapped his arms around Steve, holding him close.

  "Hey, hey, it's ok. I'm here, I'm right here." Eddie whispered to Steve, kissing the top of his head and slowly rubbing his back to help calm him. It was something he had learned from being with Steve. Whenever Steve got emotional, whether angry or sad, Eddie would rub his back and it would instantly calm him down as if nothing happened.

  Steve sniffled as he buried himself into Eddie's chest, small tears running down his cheeks. His body finally calmed down, whatever panic mode he was just in slipping away. He breathed in, his eyes closing for a second, then he let go with a long sigh. Eddie began to loosen the hug, but Steve squeezed for a second, signaling to Eddie that he didn't want him to let go.

  "C-can we just stay like this... for a little bit longer... please?" Steve quietly pleaded, his voice shaky and small as tears started to come back.

  "Yeah, yeah, of course Steve." Eddie replied gently, tightening his grip again. "I just... want you to tell me what happened, ok?" He asked, looking down at Steve, who felt smaller than he normally was, in his arms.

  "Ok..." Steve hiccuped, nodding in agreement. He shut his eyes tight as he controlled his breathing, the flashbacks of the nightmare flooding into his mind.

  "I was back in the Upside-down. It was just like everything was when we were doing our plan. You with Henderson while I was with Nancy and Robin." Steve began, remembering everything like it was yesterday. "And after we got Venca, I rushed over to you and Dustin to make sure you guys were ok. As I was going through the woods, I ran into Dustin, who had tears stained on his face." Eddie nodded as Steve continued, slowly putting everything together and realizing what the nightmare was about.

  "I asked where you were, but he wouldn't talk. He just kept crying and struggling to breath. I... I panicked and ran to where he had come from and I saw you, and you were..." Steve hiccuped on his words, hot tears beginning to pour down his cheeks once more. His throat began to burn as it got harder to talk, a feeling he hated so much.

  "Y-you were on the ground, bleeding... Bleeding so bad. I ran over to you and held you in my arms. I...I talked to you, panicked out of my mind as blood stained your mouth. You... you smiled at me, and then you... y-you..." Steve couldn't muster out the rest, choking out violent sobs as he broke down in Eddie's arms. His body felt as if it were crumbling, uncontrollable tears pouring down his face.

  "Hey, Steve, look at me." Eddie asked, his voice a bit shaky as well with tears in his eyes. Steve sniffled, lifting his head and looking at Eddie, though his vision was blurry with tears. Eddie looked at Steve for a second, his mouth twitching a little as tears slowly fell down his cheeks. He grabbed Steve's hand gently, then brought it up to his face and held it on his cheek, Eddie's hand holding over it.

"Look, I'm right here, ok?" Eddie spoke gently, his throat beginning to burn slightly from the tears that built up. "I'm right here, Steve. I'm ok. I may be a little scruffed up, but I'm alive and I'm real." He chuckled lightly, tears hitting both of their hands as they ran down his face.

Steve looked at Eddie, his sobs calming down as he stared into his eyes. His lips quivered a bit as he formed a smile, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he looked at the man he'd fallen head-over-heals for.

Steve leaned forward, locking their lips in a gentle kiss as he held Eddie's face. The kiss lasted a few seconds longer, a feeling of pure love and relief behind it, then they pulled apart, looking into each other's eyes and putting their foreheads together with a light chuckle.

"What, Harrington? Did you not believe when I said I was real?" Eddie asked quietly, chuckling and pretending to be hurt. Steve closed his eyes, laughing a bit as he lowered his hand from Eddie's face.

"I just had to make sure I wasn't daydreaming, Munson." Steve replied, gently grabbing Eddie's hand and holding it in his, his thumb running over each of Eddie's rings.

(Yay! Finished! I totally didn't cry while writing and rereading it- I hope you guys enjoy! Have an amazing day/night!)

[sourwulf]

so remember when the guy at the school was holding a gun to stiles' head and scott's dad saved him? can u do something similar but this time he saves u in the same way during the whole deadpool thing? thnx

༄  word count  —  1.5k

፨  characters  —  stiles stilinski

☓  tw  —  guns, blood, death

⊹  cw  —  violence

✎  masterlist

─

you were currently in the girl’s locker room putting your stuff in your locker after track practice. you’d stayed a little longer to get an extra couple of miles in, and now the sun was setting, making the school dark inside.

you were standing in the shower under the hot water, letting it run over your tight and sore muscles when it suddenly went cold, making you quickly rinse your hair before tying a towel around your body, drying yourself off, and getting dressed. you pulled your hair out of the towel that was covering you a moment ago and brushed it out.

you knew scott wouldn’t be happy with you being alone — what, with all the dead pool stuff going on. you were the only human on the list, and you were worth significantly less than everyone else — seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. everyone else was over a million, but not you.

none of you knew why you were even on the list in the first place. everyone else was a werewolf, banshee, or some other kind of creature. maybe it was simply because you were friends with them, or maybe because you had information that no one wanted to get out.

either way, your friends didn’t want you getting hurt. and since you didn’t have the same abilities and powers everyone else did, you were told to always be with someone who could protect you.

and the person you were paired up with was stiles. you two weren’t super close when everything started, as you’d only been friends for a couple of weeks. but sleeping over at each others’ houses every night and spending your free time together caused you two to bond, and now you were like two peas in a pod.

but you’d finally managed to get some alone time, and you’d never been so thankful to be alone. you enjoyed spending time with stiles, but you also really liked having some time to yourself outside of class.

but when you started hearing footsteps outside the locker room, you looked over to the door. you took a few steps toward it and they stopped before retreating and going the other way. you figured it was probably just a janitor, so you turned back to go to your locker.

you stopped in your tracks, though, when you almost walked into a taller man who wasn’t there before.

you jumped backward and he just smirked at you.

“this is the girls’ locker room,” you said nervously.

“oh, i know.” you looked down to see a gun in his hand and gulped, realizing that being alone in the school probably wasn’t the best idea. it was an old revolver, one with a hammer you have to pull back to shoot. “i just figured almost eight hundred thousand dollars was worth a trip into the wrong locker room.”

he raised his weapon to point at your stomach and your eyes went wide.

“wait, you don’t have to do this. i-i’m not supernatural, i’m just a regular person. you’d just be killing a random girl.”

“the list is supernatural creatures. and you’re on it. why else would you be on it if you’re not?”

“i don’t know! i’m trying to figure it out. i swear, i’m not a werewolf, i’m not a banshee, kitsune, anything.”

you could tell he thought about it for a second. “i don’t believe you.”

“why would i lie?” he looked down at his gun then back at you. “okay good point.”

“fine. i won’t shoot you. if you tell me where your friends are.”

you sighed. “they’re in the cafeteria.” he perked up a bit. “or the library. or, actually, they may be in the gym. or they may not be here at all.”

his expression changed to that of anger, and he pointed his gun directly at your forehead, only a couple of inches from your skin.

“i’m gonna count to three, and then i’m gonna shoot you.”

you scoffed nervously. “you don’t scare me.”

he pulled back the hammer, the barrel rotating. his index finger landed on the trigger and you could feel your heart pounding.

“one.”

so many thoughts raced through your mind. you recognized that you were about to die, the thought making you want to vomit. you had so many things you wanted to say to so many people that you’d never get the chance to say. you wanted to help your friends find out who the benefactor was.

“two.”

and you realized you couldn’t. time seemed to slow down and you took a deep, shaky breath, closed your eyes, and let a tear fall.

then, suddenly, a loud bang. but you didn’t go down. instead, you felt liquid splatter on your face, and you flinched so hard your legs almost gave out. you opened your eyes to see the man in front of you with a hole in his forehead, and he collapsed.

you sputtered, blood droplets shooting through the air. you finally let yourself breathe, looking up to see stiles, an expression coated with just as much shock as yours.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice cracking.

“lydia. she-she told me to come here.” he walked over to you and gripped your shoulders. “are you okay?”

you quickly nodded. “i’m not dead, so yeah. i’m good.”

he walked you over to the sink and pulled his jacket off, wetting the fabric and wiping your face. he didn’t speak, and you just stared at him until he was almost done.

“stiles.” he finally made eye contact with you, the look of anxiety still lace on his face. “are you okay?”

“yeah, of course,” he said unconvincingly.

“you just shot someone.” you looked over at the body and the pool of blood next to it. “you can’t possibly be okay.”

“i’d have rather shot someone than lost you.” you wanted to smirk at how cheesy that sounded, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“where’d you get the gun?”

“it’s my dad’s. he keeps it in his nightstand.”

“we should call him so he doesn’t get framed for murder.” he nodded, scrambling to pull his phone out. “wait, stiles.” you reached up and gripped his hands. he looked at you. “you can talk to me. i can imagine shooting someone in the head doesn’t just roll off the shoulders very easy.”

“we can talk about it later,” he responded softly. “i have to call my dad.”

you nodded, letting him dial his number.

—

someone shook you awake, your eyes shooting open. you looked around, still in the familiar sheriff’s office. you were laying on the couch by the windows, and you must’ve fallen asleep.

you’d spent a good hour answering questions with stiles, and it was well after midnight now. you looked to your side to see stiles, who was squatting next to you.

“you ready to go?” he whispered.

“what time is it?”

“almost three.”

you nodded, swinging your feet onto the floor and stretching. you followed stiles out to his jeep after saying goodnight to his dad.

sitting in the front seats, he didn’t turn on the ignition. you turned your body to face him and just waited for him to say what he was thinking about.

“no.”

you raised your eyebrows. “no? no what?”

he shook his head. “you asked me if i’m okay. i’m not. i’m not okay. when you were asleep and i was waiting for my dad to tell us we could go, i just... i let myself think about it. i... i took someone’s life tonight. i shot someone in the head. i have someone’s blood on my hands. and, i would do the same thing over if i had to because i had to save you, but...” you reached over and rubbed his upper back with his hand. “i just can’t stop replaying me pulling the trigger in my head.”

“i know. i can imagine. but you didn’t really have a choice.”

he nodded. “i know.”

“he could’ve killed all of us if he was still alive. he wanted to know where you guys were. he could’ve killed scott, lydia, malia, any of you. what you did... it saved a lot of lives. maybe... if you try to think about it like that, it won’t be as hard to live with it.” he nodded again. “i mean this life... it’s not easy. we’re always under attack, trying not to die. it takes a toll. i mean, shit, i had a gun to my head tonight. because i’m worth almost a million dollars to someone that we don’t even know. i almost died because someone values money more than life. you defended me, stiles. you saved my life. you should at least be proud of that.”

“i am. i’m glad i was there. i just wish i could’ve done that without killing someone.”

“unfortunately that’s not always an option. tonight it wasn’t. he was gonna kill even more if he wasn’t killed.”

“i know.”

you weren’t sure what to say. you’d never dealt with this kind of situation before. so you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his temple, seemingly comforting him.

“wanna go back to my place?” you asked, yawning. “my mom is home.”

he nodded, and without another word, turned the key in the ignition, heading towards your house.