#also I’m fumbling friendships consistently

[knavesflames]

Guys I’m sorry no post I am so busy and also some other things like health and exams

Soon though

Im writing.. ok hear me out

Jealous angry reader! X Arlecchino… for the poll thing… reader tops… channelling any inner anger I have at everything ever to write this

Coming soon thanks for coming to my tedtalk

[vminity21]

Daybreak | jhs (Sneak Peek)

Pairing: photographer!hoseok x campcounselor!reader, exboyfriend!yoongi x female!reader

Word Count: 1,830 (for now)

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, supernatural, vampire!au, strangers to lovers!au 

Warning(s): smut but not in the sneak peek, angst, fluff, mention of disappearances, profanity; Rated: 18+

Credit to: @dee-ehn​ for making a cover that made my jaw DROP! You are super talented and I wish I had the creativity that you hold. Thank you!

Summary: When your best friend, Kim Taehyung, all but forces you to be a camp counselor at his mother’s camp for kids, you are dreading every second. Love at first sight hits you when you least expect it when your eyes land on the handsome Jung Hoseok. As weeks pass, the mysterious disappearances of a few people you know are starting to scare the town, and when Hoseok goes missing, the desperation to find him is strong. What you find out is a lot more unbelievable than you would have ever imagined.

“I find it very odd that you consistently persist on me packing pancake mix,” shoving loose strands behind your ears, you zip closed the overly stuffed duffel bag with sarcastic excitement in tow. Once or twice as a child you have experienced summer camp, but the separation anxiety you had being away from your mother led to you staying home thus after. At 24 years old, you decide it is time to tackle the counseling portion- but was it your decision entirely or was it, Taehyung’s?

“Have you not been camping before!? You set the pan over the fire and walla, flat cakes.”

Taehyung’s mother happens to own the summer camp for parents who need a break from their kids. She would joke about how much hell Taehyung and his siblings put her through growing up, so in much consideration for parents whose kids are released from school, she created a haven for kids to focus on nothing but having fun. As well as engorging in many snacks. Outwardly, Mrs. Kim jokes. Inwardly, she loves giving kids a break from the stressful pressure of learning, too. And when his mother begged for help, Tae and the rest of the friendship crew offered to help Mrs. Kim and sign up to be counselors which you avoided until now.

“I wouldn’t even be considering this if you hadn’t signed my life away without my permission and seriously, I miss my cat.”

“I did get your permission, you were just too drunk to remember, now hand me the sunscreen,” Taehyung points in the direction where you shift slightly to reach for it. Tossing it to him, he fumbles but manages to catch the bottle before shooting you a teasing glare. “Also, your parents are capable of caring for your cat as well as my dog and you will see her when you get back.”

“Remind me to never get drunk again,” you deadpan.

“Look, I know the breakup with Yoongi still hurts. I also know that Koya has Yeontan to keep her company, and I honestly think this will be fun for you. Just trust me on this,” Taehyung reaches to peck your cheek in a way to bring comfort. Your heart is touched even though the dull pain of missing Yoongi still remains.

“But what if I lose a kid? Then what?” You try to change the subject to prevent further pondering.

Chuckling, he shakes his head, his fluffy, dark hair ruffling in the process, “I promise you will not lose a kid, y/n. It’s nearly impossible with how many counselors we have, plus we always happen to find them. Just look for the snack stand, and you will find whichever kid happened to wander away from your supervision.”

Groaning, from behind, you wrap your arms around Taehyung’s frame. “You better be right about this. It’s about time I have some non-alcoholic endeavors. Plus, I miss everyone…. And my cat,” by everyone, you are referring to the rest of the group of friends who happen to be the camp counselors, too and are beyond excited to welcome you to their favorite time of the year. “Monnie and Namjoon are going to be there, right?”

“First off, your mom promised to snapchat us pictures and videos of the animals, so I’m going to need you to relax. Secondly, yes, LenLen and Jimin will be at camp with Joon and Monnie.” Taehyung pauses briefly as if to gather his words carefully, “I think Yoongi said he was going to forego this year,” which you squeeze your eyes shut in mild relief, “Seokjin was supposed to cover for him, but nobody has seen or heard from Seokjin in a while,” Taehyung swallows with concern etching into his glance. Loosening your arms slightly, you press your cheek to your best friend’s back as you remember the last time you saw Seokjin.

“He was so pale to the point his lips lost color, too,” you murmur, “Do you think he’s sick?” Everyone voiced their worries, but Seokjin waved them off assuring that he felt perfectly fine. After that night, he hasn’t responded in the group chat, nor has he responded to Taehyung.

“I don’t know…. Jimin ordered for a wellness check, but it appears Seokjin may have left to visit his parents in his hometown.”

Jimin happens to be an undercover police officer, hence why Mrs. Kim hired him to keep watch of the campgrounds if anything were to occur. “And he’s sure?”

“According to Jimin, there were missing suitcases, ones him and LenLen gifted Jin and evidence of majority of his clothes missing, and when he contacted Seokjin’s parents, they claimed that he was coming to visit them, but that’s the most I know.”

“I’m just so shocked about his sudden transition. I mean he hasn’t missed a group gathering ever. And…. He’s your best friend, so why hasn’t he at least reached out to you?” You whisper the final sentence knowing this has taken a toll on Taehyung.

“With how top tier he is about fashion, it doesn’t surprise me that he nearly packed his entire wardrobe…. I just have this strange feeling that something isn’t right.”

“He was single?” Relating to the feeling of heartbreak, considering you and Yoongi cut ties not long ago, the anticipation of wanting to run away for a long time was originally at the forefront of your mind. Is it possible Seokjin had fallen in love and left due to a breakup? Since you have a cat at home, that you love more than life itself, you couldn’t bring yourself to hide when you have her to tend to and feed.

“So far he hasn’t been seeing someone from my knowledge, so I’m not sure if he’s had his heart broken,” Taehyung turns to embrace you entirely, sadness drowning the silence while you squeeze him tight. His warmth melts into your frame and you breathe in his crisp, floral scent.

“He will come back,” you promise, “Maybe it has to do with his job, maybe he just needs a mental break, or maybe the woman of his dreams broke his heart, and he doesn’t know how to talk about it. Either way, I know he will come back.”

“Alrighty, come on,” Taehyung pulls away enough to see your face, resting his palms on your arms. He forces a brief smile, “Let’s go before we’re late.”

There is information that Taehyung withholds for the privacy and sake of Seokjin as well as another person that you know who happens to be involved, but guilt sheds off his expression as you follow him out the door. The duffel bag weighing heavy on your shoulder, you try to suppress your anxiety about the new adventure you are about to go on. Numerous ‘what if’ questions cycle through your mind regarding doubt on whether you will be fit to be a counselor or not. Admittingly, you are quite the introvert which is why Taehyung has been the perfect friend for you because he knows how to get you to try being social.

At the bus stop, you are relieved that the pair of you make it on time enough to not have to wait long. Shuffling through the aisle, you pick the emptiest section to give you and Taehyung privacy in case if any personal conversation is brought up, and you settle against the window while he descends beside you. Observing the people who enter the bus, your heart leaps as an individual with a neatly trimmed undercut, soft eyes, and an incredibly sculpted jawline, sets to tread the aisle, his phone held out before him as he holds his arms closer to his body; and his mouth is ajar as he concentrates on where to sit. Awestruck may not be enough to describe how enchanted you are by the sight before you, and you nearly want to crawl into a hole and hide when his gaze flits to meet yours.

He is just as reactive to your presence as you are to his, for he can hardly take his eyes off you when he settles in a booth adjacent to where you are seated. You jolt to face more of the window, not even sure how to respond to the way your heartbeat increased. “You okay?” Taehyung, witness to the whole thing, muses leaning to whisper close to your ear.

“Yeah,” you reply much quicker than you mean to, but you nod along hoping that he doesn’t ask further. “I’m just nervous is all.” Your one syllable laugh did not go as planned either.

“You’re going to be just fine.” Taehyung smirks, “And don’t pretend like I just didn’t see you play eye hooky with that dude over there.”

“You saw nothing,”

“I beg to differ.”

Nudging Taehyung’s shoulder playfully, the pair of you chuckle to yourselves as you try with all your might not to look over at the handsome gentleman. You are still fresh out of a breakup, so you know trying to pursue anyone is a horrible idea right now. Eventually, the bus heads on its merry way while you force yourself to focus on other things. In the booth before the cute guy, you see a young girl scrolling through her phone, narrowing your eyes, you’re hoping that Taehyung’s sleeping frame blocks most of you, so the individual doesn’t notice, but you see the picture of the missing person report that was filed several weeks ago. Jeon Jeongguk, smiling happily in the picture provided, you feel the emotions trickling in about the story; like Seokjin, it is as if the young lad up and left, but without any evidence of a destination. No foul play was noted, nor the finding of a body, yet the mystery of his disappearance has rendered the town speechless.

“Has Jimin heard any updates about the guy that went missing recently?” You whisper to Taehyung forgetting for a moment that he had dozed off. Taking the tip of your finger, you lightly trace the tip of his nose, but the most he does is tiredly flick your hand away. “Bruh,” he grunts, “let me snooze.”

“But I’m bored,” you whine, reaching to tickle his bottom lip for him to swat at your hand again. With pressed lips attempting to stifle a loud chuckle, the handsome man lets out a breathy response of laughter at what he has witnessed.

“Count sheep,” Taehyung slurs toward you which is his way of saying, ‘please sleep, you are annoying me.’ Playfully pouting, you cross your arms as you slump in your seat. If Taehyung can’t stay awake enough to entertain you then who else is there? Unfortunately reading a book or playing on your phone plagues motion sickness so to avoid that disaster, you contemplate the bravery to peak over at the fellow who you can’t seem to not stop thinking about. Would he be freaked out if you maybe scooted past Taehyung to make your acquaintance?

[wajjs]

Hey, can we talk about the underrated (correct me if im wrong) friendship between Hal and Clark. Like people rarely talk about that, or I've been living under a rock.

I mean, I guess it depends on the versions of the characters you stick to, because them being actually friends (instead of just “coworkers”) isn't something that's consistent in the ever changing canon.

The most clear example I can think of right now is the tone differences between The List (Action Comics #606) and how their relationship is later shown in Legend of The Green Flame.

(Action Comics #606)

“I don’t mean to presume to tell you how to run your shop, Hal, but it looks pretty bad. Do you need a hand with something? −Okay, Hal. As long as you’re sure.”

“He’s sooo polite. I feel like my dad just chewed me out.”

It’s kind of an ongoing theme during this time in comics to have them shown as Clark being better than / above Hal, and Hal being an idiot that fumbles through being a hero. So of course Clark is patronizing! He doesn’t really treat Hal as an equal here, rather he approaches the conversation as if he’s talking to a rookie that’s yet to get their shit together.

The point behind The List is that Hal slowly discovers he truly does not have friends left. He doesn’t have anyone he can go to when shit hits the fan. This issue always makes me think of the song “Nobody knows you when you’re down and out” (my favorite version is by Eric Clapton)

Then I began to fall so low Lost all my good friends, and nowhere to go I get my hands on a dollar again I'm gonna hang on to it 'til that old eagle grins Because nobody knows you When you're down and out In your pocket, not one penny And as for friends, you don't have many

I say that’s the main meaning of this issue because it becomes pretty clear through Hal’s internal dialogue:

“And I’m running out of friends. Carter, John and Arthur were never my friends... Barry’s dead... Bruce pretends to be...”

In contrast waltzes in Legend of The Green Flame, that directly refers to this and shows Hal and Clark’s relationship in a different light.

“Hal... The last time you called... I’m sorry I couldn’t see you. I had a lot on my mind.”

“Hal, is something wrong?”

“Yeah. Yeah, something’s wrong. I need advice.”

“What are friends for? Spill it.”

Here they are portrayed in a way to show that they’re on equal terms, one isn’t inherently better than the other. The patronizing tone, the “I’m disappointed in you” kind of fatherly dialogue, they’re all swapped for an interaction in which Clark is shown to care for Hal’s general wellbeing—without any judgement getting in the way.

Hal is still struggling with the reality that some people just don’t care, can’t care, about being a helping hand when one’s in deep shit and struggling to see it through. Which is why you can take this as a “fix it” of sorts if you want, while also taking it as all heroes being infallibly human, which means that at times they will have shitty reactions and do and say things that aren’t nice.

At the same time, I feel like it’s fair to point out that Clark’s interest in helping out Hal is purely cordial. It’s the right thing to do, the good thing to do, and Clark is all about doing the good right thing.

[sitp-recs]

(Perfect artwork for Modern Love, by @cambiodipolvere)

Today is the day of one of my favorite people! And I totally resent @tackytigerfic and Starry for almost sharing the same birthday, god the STRESS 😂 Tacky is my first and closest fandom friend. We clicked together so fast and easy that sometimes it feels like I’ve known her all my life, like we’re two dog moms living in the same neighborhood who happen to read fic in their free time. Despite our conflicting time zones and crazy schedules we manage to chat every other day, tagging and sending each other all kinds of stuff, coming together to cry scream about a brilliant fic we’ve just read or shaking our heads in embarrassment at every other unnecessary bullshit post. Tacky’s bright and wise energy uplifts my spirit even on my moody days, and makes me grateful for her friendship and for this fandom life. Okay so this got long and I had to put the rest under the cut:

It’s such a lovely and precious thing, to have someone with whom you can share every single thought that crosses your mind, your scariest, most embarrassing, petty or disturbing idea, without fear of being shamed or judged by it. I trust Tacky with all my heart to hear me out, share a joke or a piece of advice, even on the (rare) occasions when we don’t get the same perspective - that doesn’t happen often when it comes to Drarry, as we are taste twins!

Tacky my darling, you’re such a good person, and such an incredible friend. Thank you for introducing me to this lovely community, for being my safe haven and your unique self, with so many qualities I admire and feel inspired by: kind, witty, earnest, wise, and so very human. I love your humour and empathy, and your chill yet no-nonsense personality; I love your talent and how articulated you are; I love your passion for Drarry, and how you let this emotion inform the way you navigate the fandom and create for it. And god, but you’ve been creating some of the most beautiful content I’ve seen in these recent years! I’m permanently in awe of your ability to write Drarry in any shape, format or length, transforming even the most ordinary moment into an extraordinary and meaningful piece of character or relationship development. You know how you mentioned yesterday that some authors change the way you feel about a ship in a deep, definitive way? Well, you are that author for me. Your works made me fall in love with M-rated contemplative romance, and also allowed me to fall in love with Harry in a way I never thought it was possible before.

Some people - myself included - got to know you through the fun and intriguing A Lick and a Promise, others through the atmospheric and sensitive Modern Love, others through your contemplative and heartbreaking short form. Each story has its merits and purpose, and all of them share a Tacky trademark: the heartkick factor! Your talent has no limits and goes across different genres and tropes, that you explore with a bold twist full of personality and heart. And even more impressive is your consistency at always raising the bar - every new fic of yours becomes an instant fave and makes me think “wow I thought Tacky couldn’t get better yet here we are”. Seeing how your writing evolves as you find your narrative voice is a beautiful and humbling experience, I feel so lucky!

I’m really grateful for being active in the fandom at this moment in time, because that allows me to read and engage with your brilliant work, and to have you as a dear friend. I can’t wait to see what comes out of your beautiful brain next. It was an impossible job choosing a single fic to rec today, so I decided to do a belated Tacky reclist! Naturally these are my personal and biased must-reads, and I urge everyone to go check these beauties right now. Feel free to include your own favorites too, and don’t forget to leave them some appreciation.

Happy happy birthday my darling Tacky! This fandom life wouldn’t be the same without you. I hope you have the amazing day you deserve!

Between the Power Lines (2020, M, 3.2k)

The road trip fic you didn’t know you needed. I got utterly immersed in the heartbreaking quietness of this, feeling like a witness to an ordinary yet poignant love story. Such tender intimacy, such character development, such lovely American aesthetics with barely any dialogue. This is, IMO, the fic that reveals Tacky’s triumph in storytelling.

Even the Night (2020, M, 3.4k)

This fic has a surreal atmosphere, those Midsummer vibes unbelievably sexy and intoxicating linked to the sensorial experience of fumbling together in the night. Masterclass in tension building, a silky and languid dream-like affair.

Aim for my Heart (2021, M, 3.4k) - Harry/Draco/Ron

One of the most sensitive and stunning portraits I’ve ever seen of a poly/triad relationship, this fic packs so much character and longing! It’s a privilege to watch Ron and Draco’s tentative dynamics through the smitten eyes of the one person that loves them like no one else: Harry.

The Long Fall (2021, M, 3.6k)

I can’t even write about this tender domesticity without getting a lump in my throat. Best opening scene I’ve read in years, and a refreshing way to approach both mpreg and parenthood, painfully honest and lovely. This became an immediate comfort read for me, and it’s probably one of the fics I revisit the most.

Mortal Frame (2021, M, 6.6k)

This thrilling, fast-paced spy story left me breathless since the first paragraph, gods what an immersive ride! I’m so here for Drarry on the run, sharp and urgent with danger but mellowed by the silent trust and tender intimacy only Tacky can master. Major bonus points for the brilliant take on the Horcrux hunt plot line!

Last Offices (2020, M, 6.7k)

Oh, this fic 💔 I tend to avoid MCD but there’s something so deeply fascinating about body washing rituals that I caught myself mesmerized by this. I just couldn’t put it down, so emotionally compromised I felt. There’s a sort of strange comfort in the heartbreak of doing one last act of service out of devotion to someone. This fic inspired so many difficult but lovely feelings in me, and one of them was hope. Only Tacky could possibly achieve that!

Our Little Life (2020, M, 7.2k)

Inventive and singular, this story hit me straight on the solar plexus and left me speechless as I saw the (clever, magical and bittersweet) plot unravel. Such a fabulous take on alternate universes and all the angst potential behind it. Come and bask in the yearning melancholia of a short yet intricate and perfectly executed plot.

And One to Play (2019, E, 21k)

What a fun and delightful fic, I can’t have enough of pining Harry losing all sense of propriety when faced with a hot, competent and pragmatic Draco. This has fab dynamics, unhinged protectiveness, even more unhinged attraction between two idiots who can’t keep their hands off each other. A must-read for any Auror partners fan!

A Lick and a Promise (2019, E, 55k)

Hot, BAMF Professors carefully balancing a fuck buddies situation while solving a Hogwarts mystery, do we need anything else? I certainly do not. This fic is so fun and intriguing and immersive, with amazing supportive cast and a delicious get together feat secret shagging and oblivious pining. Love it!

Modern Love (2020, E, 61k)

My favorite read of 2020, this fic is a love letter to Drarry and will always hold a piece of my soul. Sensitive, wistful, tenderly aching and so very romantic, this is a Muggle Draco triumph with a superb Harry, exquisite slow burn and a side of suds comfort. I promise it will be impossible to listen to Bowie again without thinking of this love story.

Bonus: five stunning drabbles!

Something in the Way (2021, T, 119 words)

“Up,” he said, and Draco, sick with love, raised his arms above his head and allowed Potter to slide the jumper on him, big hands stroking it flat over Draco’s stomach until they both shivered.

Stir-Up Sunday (2020, M, 300 words)

“I want you always,” he said, tugging again on the fine curling length of it. “Is it okay to say that?”

Whalebone Arch (2021, M, 722 words)

“Are you still not talking to me?” Draco steered Harry towards the crisps. “Do I have to suck you off in the loo to cheer you up?”

Semiplume (2021, T, 923 words)

“Did you know,” Harry murmured, and he put his arms around Draco, fearless. “I’d be your mate. If you needed a mate, I mean.”

Relic Radiation (2021, M, 927 words)

“You’ll kill me,” Harry said, and Draco turned his face towards the darkened sky, lunar pale, his profile some stupid unearthly thing—a flaring blazar, a supernova—in the light from the kitchen window.

[shoutogepi]

Pull of the Moon

Kirishima Eijirou

word count : 7.8k

[ ✘ (nsfw!), werewolf!au ]  

themes : masturbation, licking/biting, dom!Kiri, rough sex, dirty talk, slight choking, friends to lovers, confession

bio : Eijirou makes sure he’s far away from you for when the heat cycle strikes, but just when he thinks your friendship is safe from his monstrous hormones, there you are at his doorstep.

author’s note : so this is a fic that i wrote years ago for my kpop blog, linked in my bio. i wanted to repost it here for bnha, just bc i like the way i wrote it and i think it’s pretty fitting character-wise for Kiri! plus im a slut for werewolf fics. and also i wanted to post something while work is keeping me from writing something 100% new rn :3 pls note this is NOT plagiarized as I am the original author of the original fic.

side note : if there are any places where it says Jae, Jaebum, etc. lemme know bc it was a quick job i did converting this to a Kiri fic lol like even the title is the same oops

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

“🅂o you’re sure you have to leave for tonight, Y/N?” Kirishima inquires, tilting his head in his open palm to crane his bright gaze up toward your face.  

“Yeah, I don’t think I can get out of visiting my parents for dinner this time,” you reply, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you cuddle your chin into the warmth of Kirishima’s oversized scarf. The soft fabric grazes under your nose, and your eyes close blissfully as you inhale Kirishima’s strong, spicy aroma mingled with his cologne.

Kirishima watches you through slitted eyes, secretly pleased at your actions. Not that he would ever tell you, because that would be weird. He shuts his eyes tightly, telling himself in his head not to overthink it. Of course you like how he smells, he’s your friend. Friends like how each other smell… right? His body shivers as your fingers naturally slide into his thick, red hair. His face slides down as his body turns to jello, leaning completely on top of the table in complete euphoria at the feeling of your touch. If there was a price to have your hands on him for every hour of the day, he would pay it a thousand times over. His lips part as his jaw instinctively unhinges at your undivided attention like a newborn puppy, chin angling when your fingers slide down to the side of his jaw you brush just underneath it before pulling away.  

“Eiji, I really do have to go,” you murmur, fingers retreating from his form as he lets out a low whine. One of his warm eyes opens, scowling at you playfully.

“Okay,” he sighs when you push out your chair and begin to gather your things. He places some money on the table before following you out of the coffee shop. “I’m jealous, please bring me some of your mom’s noodles. You know how much I like them, and her.“

“I will Eiji. But you’re lucky you’re not coming, because all they ever do is gush about what a cute couple we’d be and it always ends up being weird,” you trail off, nodding to yourself.

Kirishima nods too but his heart jumps at you thinking of him as an intimate partner.

“By the way, thanks for the latte. And tell Mina hello for me when you see her tonight,” you laugh with a suggestive wink.

Kirishima rolls his eyes. “You know I’m only spending the night with her to help her with her… issues."

You smack his arm and scoff. “As if that’s a burden to you! At least you’re spending the night having fun. I’m just gonna be answering the million questions my parents will be asking about you the whole time and falling asleep in my bed by myself."

“It’s not my fault I’m so lovable,” he banters, a cheeky grin splicing between his lips, trying to shake the image of you alone in bed out of his imaginative mind.

“Say that to you baku-squad,” you retort, the two of you now standing in front of the cafe as you linger before your journey to the bus station.

“Hey— wait, is that my scarf?” Kirishima asks, pretending to notice just now when he really did the moment you walked in two hours ago. But you looked so cute all bundled up in his scarf that he decided not to say anything, content to see you warm and happy in his own clothing.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” you unwrap it from your neck and Kirishima gazes at the newly-revealed skin there with longing, forgetting about the scarf. “Eiji?"

He snaps out of it. “What? Oh— the scarf.. Keep it, I was just teasing,” he mumbles as you hook the material around the back of his neck. He’s considerably tall, massive frame towering over you so much that you have to strain your arms to fling the material onto his shoulders.

“That’s okay Eiji... you look cute in it, so wear it for Mina,” you smile half-heartedly, tugging the fabric at the ends to coil around his throat snugly. “Don’t worry about me."

“I always worry about you, Y/N,” Kirishima gazes into your eyes with a passionate longing undetectable to you. Not Mina, he wants to add.

“Well, don’t, Red, I’ll be okay. I always am,” you trace his jaw slowly with a finger before your hands fall at your sides, brushing off your coat.  

Kirishima nods hesitantly, falling into a quiet, comfortable pace beside you.  

Your boots quickly become cold as the two of you trudge through the slush from leftover snow, the bitter winter breeze chilling your nose and ears. Sooner than either of you would like, you’ve reached the bus station. Kirishima shuffles from foot to foot, arguing with himself as to if he should ask you to stay and have dinner with him instead of going on the hour-long ride to your parents’.  

“Are you sure this is okay? You don’t want me to come with you? Or I can drive you. The roads aren’t that great tonight… Mina will understand. She doesn’t— We’re not dating, you know— me and her, I mean, I only… help her as a friend.. So I can cancel, and she won’t have any issues. She has lots of other guy friends,” Kirishima reasons.

“Eiji,” you chuckle, taking your duffel bag from his hand that he’d carried for the journey here, “Mina needs you.”

But I need you, Kirishima thinks as he bites his lip. “Okay… have a safe ride then. And text me when you get there.”  

“Yes, Dad,” you laugh. You slip into his arms easily, almost naturally, and press your face against his chest beneath his wool jacket.  

Kirishima’s arms encircle you immediately, instinctively pulling you to him as his chin falls atop the crown of your head. “I’ll miss you,” he breathes.

“Don’t be weird, Eiji,” you giggle, pulling away from him much too soon for his liking. “See you tomorrow.”  

Kirishima watches you walk into the bus terminal, duffel bag in your hand with his heart unknowingly tucked deep inside of it.

Kirishima paces back and forth between the couch and the dining table. His nerves are shaky and his body uncharacteristically twitchy. He’d been smelling female wolves around the city all day while he was out with you, but he managed to ward them off with icy glares and his steel-strong self-control. It also helped that you were there to distract him, seeing as when he wasn’t with you, you were the only thing on his mind. But now that he was alone— Mina had cancelled on him to spend the night with an “old friend” that had come back to town— and he was all by himself, he was feeling the full effects of the female wolf hormones he’d breathed in for the past twelve hours.

He closes his eyes as his mind wanders to the image of you wrapped up in his scarf in the cafe; the warm scent of coffee; the condensation on the windows; your light-filled eyes on him; the scent of your freshly-washed hair… He opens his eyes, tongue running over his front teeth as he feels the evident, sharp prod of his elongated cuspids as a result of his piqued interest. He groans, feeling his eyes dilate just the slightest of fractions. He sits on the floor, sliding down the wall with a frown on his plump lips.

Kirishima watches the hands of the clock tick on the wall in front of him for a moment before he shuts his eyes and smacks his head back against the drywall, a loud whine releasing from his throat. The apartment lacks of things that could possibly captivate his attention at the moment; all he can do is think about you— your pretty face, your gentle caress on his skin just hours before. There are no messages from you and his sensitive ears long to hear the chime notification that signifies your safe arrival.  

“Just friends,” he murmurs, “just friends, just friends, just friends."

He tries to breathe in deeply to relax himself, but success quickly slips through his grasp as the scent of you lingers on the scarf casually thrown over the back of the sofa. His jaw clenches as his teeth gnash, taking in your alluring aroma. He tries to think of something— anything else, but he eventually gives up, slamming his palms flat on the hardwood floor as he pushes himself up. He lunges toward the couch, throwing himself onto the open cushions as his hands immediately find the soft cotton. He brings the material to his nose, a low moan falling from his open mouth as the intense smell floods his senses.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, readjusting his hips as he feels his body reacting swiftly to the pull of your scent. He hisses lightly as he feels the blood rush to his pants, wiggling his hips around to feel the delicious friction against his hardening erection. He rubs the inside of his thigh gently with his palm, imagining your small hand instead of his on his jean-clad length. “God, this is so fucked,” he gasps, grip strengthening on himself through his jeans. Originally his plan for the evening consisted of fucking Mina senseless and imagining it was you, but seeing as she had cancelled, this was the next best option.  

Kirishima fumbles with his belt and shimmies out of his jeans, ripping his constrictive t-shirt over his head and whipping it elsewhere into the living room. He kicks the denim off from around his ankles next, one hand holding the soft fabric of the scarf close to his nose and the other trailing toward his throbbing hard-on from the bend of his knee; how he imagines your hand would do.

A feral grunt dislodges from the back of his throat as he pictures your hair falling around your perfectly cherubic face that leans down toward his own, one hand pressing his chest down against the couch cushion and the other hand on his thigh tracing the outline of his cock straining against his briefs. His hips jerk as his forefinger runs from tip to base, his thumb sliding backwards over the previous route to caress the head of his dick gently in circular swipes. He seals his lips together by sucking in the bottom one, his canines lengthened by arousal piercing the soft flesh of the lower lip so that a metal taste floods his mouth, but he only closes his eyes and continues his ministrations.

Kirishima continues to skim the pads of his fingertips over the prominent erection that pushes against his underwear in defiance, face pressed into the back of the sofa so the cushions catch his heavy moans instead of his neighbors. He halts for a moment so he can find a throw pillow to sink his fangs into, positioning the scarf above his lip and against the pillow so it presses right against his hypersensitive nose. A strangled moan tears from him, his hand immediately returning to his leaking hard-on. It dips underneath the band of his boxers before it wraps around his width, squeezing tight. His body shakes and he sucks in a breath, squirming to lay flat against the leather of the sofa. Slowly he moves his hand up to encompass the head, a heavy snarl being lost into the throw pillow. He strokes himself teasingly, thumb trailing behind to caress the aching tip. His hips push into the cushion as his body moves to a natural rhythm, thrusting them up slightly as his fist falls back down toward his abdomen. The thick precum dribbling from his tip lathers his palm so his cock slides into it easily. His eyelashes tickle his high cheekbones as his eyes shut tighter, fingertips tracing the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft.

The sofa wheezes as he shifts, impatiently pushing his briefs down in one tug to rest on his mid-thighs. He scoots off of the sofa and onto the hardwood floor, kneeling as he places his fist onto the tabletop, lining his hips delicately before sliding his length into his firm grasp. He whimpers into the pillow, now damp with his saliva, and hunches over the table, his free arm curled underneath his broad torso. The fabric of the scarf tickles his nose but he inhales deeper, hips pushing in and out of his fist quickly. He imagines you beneath him instead of the table and his fist, moaning with him as his canines sink into your neck to mark you as his and only his. His destitute wails are swallowed by the soft pillow and the scarf as he keeps thrusting steadily, imagination running so wildly he can almost feel your legs on either side of him, pushing him further inside of you.

“Oh, Y/N,” he grunts, cuspids fully lengthened and sharpened now in desire, piercing the soft fabric of the pillow almost enough so his bottom and top teeth could touch through the plush object,” Y/N, I’m gonna—“

Knock knock knock.

Kirishima’s body stills as he opens his eyes, disappointment rushing through him at the sight of the coffee table underneath him. He wants to scream, but he just shuts his eyes, taking a breath in before sliding his hard cock out of his fist and tucking the slick inconvenience back into his boxers. His breath is labored and heavy, but he manages to find his jeans and slip them on anyway. “One sec,” he says loudly, fastening the button before hesitantly wiping his hand on the side of the denim. He can’t help but sulk as he walks over and picks his shirt up from the floor, breathing deeply and hoping his canines aren’t too obvious of an indicator as to what he was just doing… not to mention the angrily-pulsing dick resting against the inside of his thigh.  

He strides toward the door, opening it ready to tell Mina he thought she’d cancel when he’s greeted with your sweet face and the scent of Italian food. His jaw almost hits the floor as he gapes at you, dick pressing longingly against his jeans at your familiar smell, but in person it radiates off of you so strong he almost lunges at you. You’re looking up at him with those bright cheerful eyes he loves, a timid smile on your lips as you swing the takeout bag back and forth behind your back in anticipation.  

“Hi, Eiji,” you smile and set the bag on the ground next to the door before you turn around and take his tense body into your arms, throwing yourself onto him.  

A gasp rips from his throat but quickly turns into a cough, body trembling at your singeing touch. His jaw quivers as he conceals his pointed teeth, angling his thigh away from you strategically. “Y-Y/N, w-what are you doing here?” He manages to ask, lips sealing immediately once the words are pushed out.   His hands remain clenched at his sides; he’s scared that if he touches you now he won’t be able to stop.  

“There was a freak accident on the highway ahead of my bus… We had to turn back. My parents don’t mind though, they said we can reschedule. Maybe you won’t need to miss my mom’s noodles this time; you can come if you want. By the way, I brought Italian!” You smile as you pick up the bag and brush past him, leaving him standing there, looking at the door with a glare.

You move around the sofa and sit on one of the leather cushions, setting the bag onto the coffee table. “Ew Eiji,” he sits next to you stiffly, eyes widening as you reach over to the table and poke a finger into the slick trail of precum that had dribbled out of his fist just moments ago. “What is this? Do you ever clean this apartment?” You giggle, unfolding the paper bag the food had come in and wiping your finger on your skirt. “Anyway, I got food from your favorite place and made sure I got the breadsticks with the extra sauce ‘cause I know you lov—“

A quiet groan escapes Kirishima’s mouth as he puts his head in his hands— your scent, your alluring body, your heart-swelling gaze, just you, being here—it’s too much for his raging hormones.  

“Ei? Are you okay?” You ask, scooting closer and pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. He’s shaking and you don’t know why, so you bring his head to rest against your collar, just above your fluttering heart. “Eiji, you’re burning up…”  

He stays pressed against you, the desperation and torture he felt earlier suddenly fleeting and gone from his body as your own erases them completely. He swallows. It feels so good, but he knows it’s wrong. This is wrong when you’re just his friend and his dick is leaking into his underwear for you as you hold him like this.

“Get out,” Kirishima murmurs, eyes set on the paper bag.  

You still, slowly pulling him. “W-What Eiji?”  

“You need to leave,” he says through his teeth, jaw set tight.  

“Eijirou.. I don’t understand— is this how you treat someone when they bring you your favorite food?” You spit, hands curling into frustrated fists.

Kirishima ignores you, knowing he can apologize tomorrow when he’s in the right mindset but you being here with him at the moment could jeopardize your entire relationship.

“I… Is it… her? Is it Mina?” You murmur, and Kirishima’s gaze turns to you sharply at the drop in your tone. His lips part to say something to soothe your confidence as he sees it shatter. “I didn’t realize— I thought—” you breathe in sharply and shake your head, shooting up from your spot and rushing around the sofa.  

Kirishima beats you to the door, palm reaching over your shoulder to slam it just as you can get it open a sliver. He grabs your biceps, spinning you around and pressing you against the door with his hand as a cushion to break your impact.

“It’s never been Mina,” he snarls, knee splitting your legs and sliding up the gap between your thighs to press against your core; your panties and his jeans the only thing separating your center from his skin.

Your eyes widen and you gasp as his hands cup your face with care, scarlet eyes searing into your own with an intensity you’d never seen before. His pupils are dilating with every second, a black coal seemingly swallowed up by the burning fire of his irises.

“It’s you, Y/N,” he murmurs, eyes shutting into a long blink, and when they open again the red you’re used to is flooded with tendrils of electric amber and yellow. “It’s always been you, and it’ll always be you.”

You gape at him as he holds you there, against his front door, professing his love to you.

“I need you Y/N, I need you so bad it fucking hurts not being able to touch you,” he growls lowly. “If you can’t love me back, you have to leave, now. I don’t want your lust, I can smell it from here,” his honeyed eyes roll back as he takes in a whiff of the wanton-perfumed air around you, mouth parting and you watch his pink tongue slide over his elongated canines, feeling a tremor between your legs. His eyes open and they set straight on yours with a certain determination. 

“I can’t wake up next to you tomorrow and have tonight be just for friends with benefits. I love only you, Y/N,” Kirishima delivers, voice never quivering,“now tell me you feel the same, or go.”

There’s a slight fragility in his gaze that begs you not to break his heart. He peers into you at such a small distance that you can see every brilliant fleck of gold in his sinful eyes, warm ginger bursting around the outer ridges of his irises that focus solely on you. The dim lighting casts stretched shadows from his long, dark lashes; his bronzed skin glowing subtly to intensify his passionate gaze.

“Kirishima,” you place a hand on his clenched but trembling jaw, tilting your face to look him in the eye better. “You’ve been hurting all this time for no reason.”  

His scarlet gaze lights with hope and happiness. “Say it then,” he whispers, words soft and nearly begging, as if he fears if his voice is too loud he’ll wake from a dream.

“Kirishima Eijirou, I love you, too. God, I have beein in love with you for so long,” you reply, and he wastes no time as his mouth descends upon yours. He presses your lips to his passionately, hands resting on your hips and rubbing the smooth skin there underneath your blouse. You gasp as they guide your hips gently in circles against his kneecap, your mouth falling open at his forward actions. He takes advantage of your open mouth and darts his tongue in, tangling it with yours in a powerful embrace.  

His steady clutch on your waist drags your body up his clothed thigh, and a soft, unabashed moan falls from your lips at the action. The taut muscle of his leg between his jeans and your panties rubs graciously against your flustered center, making your head loll back to rest against the door.  

“Don’t do that,” Kirishima groans, a hand leaving your warm hip and tilting your head forward once again to look at him directly. His fingers trail against your smooth neck, feeling the rapid pulse beneath the tender skin. His palm curls softly around the back of your neck, pressing you closer to him as his other arm hooks underneath your bottom. You squeak in surprise and cling to him, legs wrapping around his midsection and core pressing upon his rigid erection.  

You look at him with wide eyes as he throws his head back, sucking in air harshly between his clenched jaw. “Fuck, yes,” he hisses, holding you tighter and stalking over to the sofa. He places you in between the two cushions, standing in front of you and looking down, breathing laboriously before he tilts his head back again, willing for some kind of miraculous strength to get him through the night without sealing you to him forever.

“How come you get to do that and I don’t?” You frown as he looks down at you before he crouches, his face dropping just below your own to gaze up at you.  

“Because you don’t have the urge to sink your three-centimeter canines into my throat,” his upper lip curls back as he shows you the result of his attraction to you.  

You look at him with unintentionally pouted lips, batting your eyelashes as you take in his words. Isn’t that how werewolves marry or something? You think. Kirishima had explained it all once before, one night when you were both wasted at three in the morning at some bar on the outskirts of the city.  

“God, can you look unattractive for one second while I try to pull myself together?” Kirishima groans, a hand running through his disheveled hair.

“Who said I want you to pull yourself together?” You inquire, scooting toward the lip of the cushion.  

Kirishima looks at you warily with an underlying, longing hunger before you place your hands on either side of his sharp jaw and bring his lips to yours. Your eyes close immediately and his blissfully, your hands gliding down his neck to his broad chest. You grapple onto his wide shoulders, one hand burying into the hair at the base of his neck to push him into the kiss even more.  

His throat vibrates gently with an almost-inaudible growl, and you part his tender lips with a swipe of your tongue, the pink muscle coasting in and gently feeling the warm, smooth hardness of his cuspids.

Kirishima untucks your blouse in one pull, fingers nimbly undoing each button before sliding the clothing off your shoulders and tossing it away. His hands lay strategically on your ribs, fingertips brushing the underwire of your bra just barely.  

He pulls you forward into his arms, hands splaying onto your back with delight, fingers undoing the fastening between your shoulder blades with glee. You lean into him as he flings the bra in the direction of the blouse, mouth instantly latching to your breast and tongue twirling around the swollen bud. You wail, pushing him closer as his teeth bump against your nipple and his lips grow taut with a warm smirk, depraved gaze intense as ever.

You want more than ever to throw your head back onto the top of the sofa, but you know you’re forbidden to do so. Instead, you slide your body further down onto the cushions, hips brushing against Kirishima’s torso as his mouth leaves your nipples, your face coming to a stop directly in front of his. Your hands cup his angular jaw again, coaxing his lips onto yours into an ardent kiss. His long eyelashes flutter against your blushed cheeks, his coarse hair drifting softly through your digits.  

His hands land on your rolling hips, scuttling closer on his knees so his crotch feels the steady rhythm. He hums, a primitive trembling in his throat that sounds more like a soft growl. Your hands fall to the hem of his snug t-shirt, which he gladly expels into the corner toward your blouse and bra. You lean back a bit and admire his toned form. His broad chest, pectorals curving dramatically to his wide shoulders seamlessly; the v shape tapering down to the top of his jeans; the faint trail of dark hair waning below the brass button to his jeans; the way his abdominal muscles flex with each heavy breath; the salient outline against his thigh that both he and you know aches for your attention.  

You can’t help yourself. You reach between his strong thighs, fingers skimming along the bulge mockingly. Kirishima’s head rolls full circle, hand clutching your wrist tightly as he stares into you, lips parting and hot pink tongue gliding along his white, sharp teeth. “That was very naughty of you,” he murmurs, honeyed eyes darkening to a burnt orange. Trepidation ignites in your heart, but also desire floods your senses as well as your panties.  

“Eijirou,” you breathe and his lip curls back into a snarl, a loud growl releasing from his throat. His nostrils flare and he swallows harshly.  

“Say it again,” he orders, leaning into your face.

“E-Eijirou,” it comes out as a whisper, but his sensitive ears hear the slight whine to your tone, and his cock jumps at the sound against your eager fingertips. “You like it when I say your name, Eiji?”  

His tongue runs swiftly over his lip, his eyeing your chest hips hungrily. His hand reached forward on its own accord, sliding effortlessly under the soft material of your skirt to press against your warmed, wet panties. His lips curve into a devious smirk, fangs poking out slightly as his dark, copper-tainted eyes set on yours. “Mmm, and you like it when I growl for you, baby girl?”  

“God, yes Eiji,” you answer and gulp at his overwhelming intensity. He trains his gaze to the movement of your fragile throat, tongue flicking around one canine subconsciously. A deep purr of sorts emanates from him in approval, making your legs tremble and press together around his intruding forearm.  

He smiles devilishly, white teeth glinting in the dim lighting. His other hand circles round your back, pushing your tailbone so your body slides forward on the couch, to the very edge of the cushion. His fingers nudge your thong aside, immediately met with your poignant arousal. The tips of his middle and ring finger separate your folds facilely, gliding over your entrance and clit making you bite your lip to hold in an impatient moan. “Oh baby, you’re so wet for me,” he chuckles. “If only we’d figured this out sooner.”

“Eiji, fuck,” you cry when he rubs your clit gently, your jaw trembling as you sag against his arm’s firm hold and the back of the sofa. You can’t throw your head back so you lean forward, elbows falling on Kirishima’s generous shoulders, the side of your face against his soft hair as his tongue guides a pebbled nipple into his mouth, caressing it slowly and pressing it against his teeth. You whimper pathetically, his thumb replacing his fingers as they slide down and glide half-way right into your awaiting entrance.  

He hooks the two fingers and presses repeatedly, making you shove his face closer to your breasts in pleasure. He slides them deeper, knuckles lapping against your slick entrance as his tongue works diligently on your nipple. You clench around him and moan loudly at the depth his fingers achieve, the feeling of total ecstasy near. It had been a long time since a man had touched you, and it was no where near as incredible as having Kirishima’s thick fingers rubbing inside you.

“Eijirou, that feels so—” you warn but he only picks up the pace. He leans down, tongue replacing his thumb smoothly and you almost scream. He strokes your clit fervently, tongue lapping persistently up and down as his long canines brush on either side, his fingers curling and straightening at the same pace. “Fuck Eiji— I’m seriously gonna cum,” you pant, falling back against the back of the sofa.  

He looks up at you mischievously, dark eyes alight with arousal and a touch of humor. You feel his full lips in a smirk as he wraps them around your clit, tongue lavishing it faster. One hand falls to his hair, gripping it tight as the other curls against your mouth, your eyes shutting tight as your orgasm smashes against you like a wave crashing down upon you. You moan, body quivering in Kirishima’s strong grip, wiggling pointlessly against the sofa cushions.  

Kirishima doesn’t cease until you’ve returned from your high, standing up and unfastening his jeans quickly, pushing them down and kicking them off when they reach his ankles. You sit up from your slumped position, hands landing on his thighs and traveling around to rub the backs of them in anticipation. Kirishima watches you hungrily, his thick cock longing for your attention. You lean forward, almost touching where he wants you most, before you look up at him and give him your most innocent doe eyes you can muster after having his sinful session on you just moments before. You bat your lashes and he growls loudly, fists clenching at his sides.  

“Y/N,” he advises, tone a little menacing. You tilt your head and press your lips against his erection through his briefs, a low groan sounding from above you. You kiss down toward the tip and back up to the base of his shaft before you reach up and untuck him, briefs sliding to the hardwood floor. You smirk as you look at what you’ve done to him. His dick is throbbing gently as you rest it against a palm, beads of translucent-white precum adorning the tip of the red, swollen tip. You repeat your kiss trail on his bare skin, his cock twitching at the action as you feel the vein underneath contract harshly. When you reach the base your tongue pokes out, tracing up and down the prominent vein on the underside.  

Kirishima watches you with a dark, maleficent gaze, throat tightening and a growl tumbling out when you take the head into your mouth, sucking teasingly as your tongue dances around the leaking tip. “Fuck yes, baby girl. Just like that."

You retreat with a loud pop, smiling up at him and his heart flutters in his chest at the pureness of it. With an open mouth you glide your tongue along the sides of him to slicken his entire length before your lips encompass the tip and suddenly his dick is touching the back of your throat and you don’t even seem to mind. Kirishima lets out a strangled moan of shock, watching your head bob energetically up and down his hot length. He watches you in awe for a few minutes, just dazed this is really happening and he’s not waking up abruptly like when he’d dreamt this scenario so many nights before.  

He snaps out of it suddenly, aware his cock is tensing the way it does when he’s about to cum. You’d noticed, too, at the feel of the harsh, bulging vein on the under-shaft, slowing down to a halt and leaning back to catch your breath.

“Baby you did so good,” he praises, hands cupping your face and you beam at him proudly. “Now take off your skirt for me.”  

You comply eagerly, shimmying out of the cotton garment, your thong following close behind. Kirishima smugly watches the stings of your arousal snap as your panties are thrown onto the floor, fist stroking his length slowly to keep himself at bay.

“Turn,” he instructs, other hand guiding you to face away from him,” knees on the couch, now.”  

You do as told, looking back at him over your shoulder expectantly. He smiles and steps forward, and your back arches as you feel his length glide against your dripping entrance.  

“Be a good girl for me, okay? Do not let me get anywhere near your throat, got it? If I do, I’ll sink my teeth into you so fast you won’t know what’s happening. And then you’re stuck with me for life. So watch out for yourself, baby. This is your only warning,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear before a hand lands on your hip and suddenly he’s pushing into you, a gasp tearing from your throat as he stretches you to your capacity. When his hips bump against your ass your eyes have already rolled back in delirium, your lip falling open in shock.  

He pulls out half-way before sheathing back inside slowly, a whine releasing from your mouth. His hand remains on your hip while the other grabs a fistful of your hair, trailing out again before snapping in. The tip of his cock nestles so deep in you that tears dot along your bottom lashes; the feeling is so blissful and fulfilling that your emotions skyrocket.  

“Eijirou— oh, yes,” you whimper as he repeats the action, movements still paced and measured to help you adjust to his size.

“Feel good, baby? ‘Cuz this feels amazing for me— you feel amazing on me, Y/N,” he grunts, fingers gripping the skin of your hip tighter as he angles your face so he can see it with his other hand.  

“Yes, fuck yes, you feels so good,” you commend as the pace intensifies, making a moan spill out of you. He groans from behind you, letting go of your hair and placing his hand on your other hip to keep you steady. You clutch onto the top of the sofa tightly as he pounds into you, and you gasp as a hand leaves your hip for a moment and delivers a sharp smack to your ass, making your back arch into Kirishima’s grasp. You’re babbling now, your entire body thrumming with pleasure. “Oh god—ohgodohgodohgodohgod.”

Kirishima hisses as he watches the bright pink mark on your ass cheek tremble as his hips slam against yours, bottom lip tucked under his offending cuspids. He licks his lip to keep from drooling onto you, eyes trained on your perfect figure that he’s fucking into the sofa. Pleasure courses through his body, intensified at the sound and obvious proof of your own satisfaction as he thrusts into you quickly.  

“Again,” you lament softly, and if he hadn’t been a werewolf with keen hearing he wouldn’t have heard your request over the assaulting sound of your skin slapping against his. He delivers and slaps your other cheek sharply, a lustful mix between a gasp and a moan escaping you.  

“Fuck, you’re so sexy, baby,” Kirishima admires, smirking as you turn slightly to look at him. He grabs your shoulder and pulls your torso back, slamming it against his as his other hand wraps around your throat snugly to stop his innate temptation to leave his mark there. The other hand leaves your arm and instead bands around your waist, pressing you flush against him. His hips retreat and pound into you in the new position, and you rest your head back onto his shoulder since your neck is safe from his view with his large hand covering it.

You stare into each other as he continues, and you move your hips back as he moves his in, making each thrust more powerful. His lips find yours and they mould easily, your hand coming up to caress his jaw and press his face closer to yours.

“Eiji, your cock feels so good,” you pant between his kisses and potent strokes, “God, you’re so big.”

“Mmm, I love when you talk dirty to me,” Kirishima murmurs against your mouth, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face.  

It’s fucked up but his tight hold on your throat is only turning you on more, making your eyes close as each thrust feels better than the last.

“Fuck, Ei,” you groan, slouching back against his toned form as the pleasure is too great.  

“Here, baby,” he says, cock slipping out of you before picking you up, walking briskly out of the common space and into a hallway, then finally into his bedroom. He shuts the door with his foot, laying you gently onto his messy bedsheets and blankets. He rolls you over onto your stomach before he climbs on top of you, hovering above you before he slips back in with ease.  

You moan and tuck your face into the sheets that smell like him, his arms bracing on either side of your head as his forearms rest next to yours, elbows bent and fists clenched. His hips swing effortlessly into yours, making a loud, crude slapping sound echo around the room. You moan almost pathetically into the sheets, turning to lay your face to the side so Kirishima can hear your noises of pleasure. He kisses your cheek sweetly before moving to your jaw and nibbling there gently, his tempo still quick and lethal. His tip, nestled deep inside, assaults your g-spot and you purr in content at the sensation, a gasp escaping you as he plunges in a little more forcefully. His hand wraps around your throat again, lifting your head up as his lips meet yours tenderly. His tongue plays with yours gently, a stark contrast to your hips. The hold on your throat is firm but also soft, and his thumb brushes along your jawline as his fingertips push into your racing pulse.

His hand leaves you and suddenly you’re on your back, Kirishima dragging your body up the bed so your head lays on the pillows. He smiles widely before he swoops in and his lips take yours again. His cock glides right back in, and you moan loudly into the kiss as the tip brushes your g-spot at a different angle than before. Your pussy quivers around him as he picks up the pace again, one arm folding under and around your waist and the other holding your chin, elbow digging into the mattress to keep himself propped up. His kisses trail from your lips to your chin and jaw, tongue sliding out and lathering your skin gently. Your eyes open as it slides down your throat, and the slight point of his canines poke against your skin. You quickly take his head in your hands, guiding his lips back to yours.  

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he murmurs against your lips, eyebrows scrunched in concentration, breath heavy as his exhausted hips keep up the erratic pace against yours. He whimpers as your walls constrict around him firmly.  

“I’m close, too, Eiji,” you mumble, legs folding around his waist, your arms tangling around his torso with your hands on each shoulder blade, fingernails gripping his slick skin. One of his hands is pressed into the sheets by your shoulder, propping him up, and the other is going white on your hip from his tight hold.  

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he snarls, voice low and resonating with a growl. You watch his abdomen accordion as he flexes in and out of you with apparent effort, drops of sweat gliding down his broad chest. He throws his head back and whines as your nails dig into his strong shoulder muscles, chasing his imminent ecstasy.  

Watching his body tremble and exert itself to bring you to your euphoria pushes you toward your own climax, and the feeling of his hand on your hip and the way his lip pinches between his teeth makes your eyes roll back and your body tense as you fall off the cliff, hurtling down into the thrashing waves of your orgasm. You call his name in a strangled cry, limbs clutching onto him for dear life as the pleasure shakes through you. His hips don’t stop; plunging further into you and pushing you harder under the tides of your climax. Your body shivers and you’re so out of it you don’t notice Kirishima’s thrusts becoming volatile, his arm that had once propped his torso above yours curling beneath your back to press your torso against his.  

A growl of victory splits from deep in his throat as he approaches his own high, muscles tense in anticipation for the long-awaited prize. He shudders and suddenly his cuspids are lodged deep in your throat, and it feels like he’s just been run over by an eighteen-wheeler of ecstasy. His jaw shakes as his eyes close, abdomen convulsing as he spills deep into you in long, relentless spurts. The combination of his orgasm and his marking you almost make him pass out in an exhaustive pleasure.

Just as you’d come to from your orgasm, searing pain splices through you as Kirishima’s fangs split your skin and neck tissue, your jaw opening but no sound releasing. And just as fast as the pain had arrived, it’s replaced and you’re submerged back into the tidal waves of a new climax, making you clench and flex around Kirishima’s throbbing member that pulses into you.  

His fingers clasp the skin of your hips so strongly the skin turns white, but your own nails lodge into his shoulders to grapple him to you; the both of you holding each other as if your lives depend on it. The sheets around you are twisted and damp from your sweat, but the two of you only seem to care about each other; drifting numbly and blissfully in your shared euphoria.

After a moment Kirishima’s body sags, sliding slightly to the side of yours as his muscles stop tensing and he stops physically releasing into you. His teeth still woven deep into your neck, he doesn’t dare move his face.  

As the tides form your orgasm slowly recede, your body hums in a warm satisfaction and a certain numbness. Your hands rove over Kirishima’s expansive back soothingly, and he exhales with a content but tired moan in response.  

Very timidly, Kirishima stretches his jaw to the maximum before he pulls away from your neck, leaving your head buzzing lightly. He licks the puncture wounds instantly, enzymes in his saliva helping to start the healing process while he cleans away the scarlet blood that beads there. He ghosts a kiss over your jaw before he pulls away, smiling warily as his eyes meet yours.  

The primal amber and yellow shades are gone, leaving behind the warm red you’d fallen in love with. They cast over your face in total adoration, with a hint of fear.  

He looks away as he slides out of you, his release immediately following and forming a wet puddle on his sheets. Your cheeks flush even though it isn’t your fault, but he just smiles and presses a kiss to one of them as if silencing your unnecessary embarrassment.  

Kirishima reclines next to you, pulling the blanket at the foot of the mattress up to rest on top of the two of you. He collects you into his arms, your body weak and unprotesting. His legs entwine with yours, pressing every piece of skin he can to yours. He makes sure to be careful with your neck, kissing it gently once more before settling his face next to yours. The kiss makes the skin tingle and heat, a fuzzy warmth flooding your body as you smile shyly.  

“I told you not to let me get near your neck,” Kirishima says softly as your eyes close, eyelashes brushing over his collarbone. “Do you know what this means, Y/N?” He tries again at your silence, thinking you don’t understand the severity of the situation. His fingertips run up and down your naked spine relaxingly.  

“It means you need to work on your self-control,” you murmur, giggling quietly into his chest.

“Y/N, this isn’t a joke,” he says lowly, “I don’t kno-“

You cut him off. “It isn’t a joke, I know, Eijirou. It means we’re tied together, forever— meaning we, this, us— we’re permanent. We’re wolf-married or whatever the term is now, I know. You can never love another person again, and neither can I,” your hand rests on his pectoral, a finger tracing along his nipple so you have something to look at instead of his face. “If you can’t deal with that, I’m sorry, but I can. I’m yours, Kirishima, always have been, always will be. If you don’t want that, then I’m sorry but you just sealed your fate with mine and there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“Oh,” Kirishima exhales, blinking. The only light in the room is from the window above the desk, moonlight casting the bed in a dim white light. He shuffles, pulling your body closer to his, smiling into your hair with a stupidly happy grin. “I just wanted to make sure that’s what you want. I.. uh, I feel the same,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear giddily.  

“Good,” you reply, eyes closing as you nuzzle your face closer to his warm heart.

It’s silent for a moment before Kirishima clears his throat gently. You peek one eye open, awaiting his words.

“Um… I love you, Y/N… a lot,” he says rather nervously, gulping softly as he pauses for a response.

“I love you too, Eiji,” you kiss his chest gently, sighing contently.

“And, uh, Y/N?”  

“What, Eiji?”

“I’m glad it’s you who I’m wolf-married to.”

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

.

when he go from wolf to puppy 🥺 thank you for reading babies <3 & pls don’t be shy to let me know if you enjoyed!! 

➥ masterlist 

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[singull]

I posted 1,803 times in 2022

That's 1,404 more posts than 2021!

62 posts created (3%)

1,741 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@enberlight

@the-geek-cornucopia

@commander-krios

@5ummit

@ediediaz

I tagged 1,433 of my posts in 2022

Only 21% of my posts had no tags

#dracula daily - 285 posts

#video - 233 posts

#lmao - 222 posts

#marvel - 149 posts

#mcu - 147 posts

#star wars - 108 posts

#moon knight - 106 posts

#moon knight spoilers - 89 posts

#house of the dragon - 72 posts

#personal bloggity - 65 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#but seriously tho parsing through what media i can still stand and what i can’t deal with due to the grief has been…it’s been something

My Top Posts in 2022:

BAHAHAHA, all my top 5 posts are like…text posts, most of them about me grieving. Snipped them so they’re not so looooong.

#5

so my dumbass fumbled my glass dip pen and broke the tip off. D; ordered 2 new pens, but they haven’t been shipped yet. i wanna write in my journal with colorful ink again. Dx

anyway…at work the coffee company we were working with before opted to leave and we replaced them with a new company and ever since the new peeps started, the more i have realized just how much the burnout and anxiety i’ve been feeling about work has been related to the former crew we were working with bahahaha. i won’t go into details, but the company we were working with before wasn’t managing their coffee shop with us very well (despite the fact that apparently this was their busiest location like…????), the recent baristas just…weren’t great, and my boss and i were constantly having to answer for their bullshit (non-consistent hours, poor service, bad attitudes from baristas, etc).

i legit did not realize how much their fuckery was messing with me until they were gone for good. like a gotdamn weight lifted off my shoulders. i no longer feel so much anxiety about coming into work.

2 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

#4

i think what really gets me about the friendship breakup and how it went down and why it is going to be so difficult for me to get over it is because she basically stole my ability to say goodbye.

Read more at link.

3 notes - Posted May 1, 2022

#3

been spiraling a bit lately. lots of “i wish my best friend was still my best friend” feelings and then being mad at myself for thinking that and whatnot.

also been feeling overwhelmed with the hobbies lately bahaha. i want to read but i want to play video games but i want to watch shit on youtube but i wanna rambling about my characters but i want to do things with my dolls but i need money to do some things with my dolls but i need to go to work regularly to get money and jgkdlfjdal

and yeah fun stuff.

3 notes - Posted August 30, 2022

#2

i guess this year’s mantra to myself is “her issues were her issues and it was her responsibility to talk to me about whatever i did or said that bothered her so much. i cannot know what is going on in other people’s minds.”

i imagine i’ll backtrack a ton lmao.

4 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

mmmmmmmm i think i’m starting to dip into the anger stage.

like damn this fucking bitch really ghosted me for 2 weeks out of the fucking blue and then comes around to finally tell me that our interactions “ruined” her mental health. ‘cause i’m supposed to just fucking magically know that shit without her telling me jack.

uh huh? yeah. sure. sure sure sure.

Read more at link.

5 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ectonurites]

Do you ship Jason with anyone? I for example like to ship Jason/Happiness (which may be with Roy) or Jason/Therapy! I sometimes think about aro Jason too

At this point in general i’m pretty neutral on a lot of Jason's popular ships?

Him with Roy is complicated because while i do like the dynamic they have in RHATO & RH/A and everything, that version of Roy is just so incredibly different from like, actual Roy, that it can make it harder to enjoy. (the more i read preboot comics with Roy the more i just look at New 52 Roy and wonder why they. did that. all of that.) I think its best for me when I can treat New 52 Roy as a separate character. i’m genuinely interested to see how things may be on the ‘Jason & Roy’s friendship’ front now that we’re into Infinite Frontier tho and Roy’s getting more of his old self back.

Then like, Jason & Artemis had great potential but Lobdell fumbled it, him with Rose has just consistently been hinted at without real build up OR payoff so it’s like cool in theory but there’s no real substance to it, Him & Kyle had a fun dynamic (like, their trio w/ Donna in countdown was iconic) but i doubt they’re ever really gonna cross paths again.

The other major Jason ships i'm aware of (him with babs or like. any of the batc*st ships are what's coming to mind) are a hard no from me tho

Overall I feel like Jason definitely needs therapy and to work through some of his own issues before being in a serious relationship with anyone, so like Jason/Happiness truly is my fave pairing overall.

(also Aro!Jason is cool! it's not my personal hc for him but like, go off it's still a totally cool way to interpret him!)

[qwertyfingers]

honestly ultimately i think ben edlund saw dean as bi and no one else who gave dean gay moments had any real opinion - bedlund is to my knowledge the only writer who's said anything about it openly, and the only time he said bisexual specifically, that i know of, was about dean's grey robe having been formerly owned by a bisexual man of letters. i think edlund was also the guy who said the 'love in all places' comment about dean's fumbling moment with aaron? i'm not an encyclopedia i can't say for sure.

i think if dean was ever given a "canonical" coming out he probably would've been bi and i think he's more or less ~textually~ bisexual and that's why i'm not particularly loud about my thoughts on his sexuality. i think dean could be gay and i'm compelled by a gay reading of dean and i don't think there's anything in the text of supernatural that completely refutes it because sexuality is messy and complicated and two people can have the exact same experience of attraction and have completely different labels for themselves and that's okay and doesn't actually harm anyone

the fact that dean has been shown pretty consistently to be unable to form genuine romantic attachments to women but has many close friendships with women who are completely unavailable to him and the speed and intensity with which he builds close physical and emotional relationships with men again and again is interesting to me and i am very much aware that this can be true for bi men! i do in fact engage with a lot of fanwork about dean being bi! i just also find a reading of him as gay compelling and it's the one that feels more "real" to me personally. how i feel about it literally doesn't have a bearing on the show OR other fans like it's literally just. for me.

[bbrandy2002]

Happy Birthday Burnsy!

The Country AU -- I'm Gonna Live Where The Green Grass Grows

Pairing: Drake x Alyssa, Liam x Riley, and a whole host of other TRR characters.

A/N: This was a silly little idea I had months ago for an AU built around the places and people where I grew up. I never had plans to actually write it, but I mentioned it to Burns, and well ... she wanted it lol so here we are. And she’s already read half of this and is the one who made the mood board for it and the song inspo hahaha. Thank you to @mskaneko for the edits of our OTP’s, and @charlotteg234 for pre-reading the first half of this.

Trigger warning: Gun usage, hunting, mild language ... I think that’s it

@burnsoslow

My dearest friend, when I think back at where we were one year ago, I can’t help but be reminded of the vastly different world we live in now. On February 5, 2020, there was no covid keeping us sheltered and fearful, families were complete, jobs were stable, and so many of the things we worried about then simply pale in comparison to now, Life wasn’t so bad. But here we are with all these new changes and mindsets. Through it all, one thing remained consistent: YOU. You have been my strength, my rock, the anchor that grounded me. We have cried together, laughed a lot together, worried for each other, and celebrated those small victories that were important to each other. And I get so happy when someone comments about how much they love the friendship between Riley and Alyssa because it's the most real part of Fearless. If anyone ever wanted to know what we’re like, it's all written out in that story. I’ve got your back, and you have mine. You’re my best friend and I just love the hell out of ya! I hope your birthday is amazing and that this fic is everything you wanted for this AU.

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

On Sunday mornings in southern Georgia, you did one of two things: You woke up early for church services or woke up late to watch NFL football.

Some people figured out a long time ago how to do both.

Sitting in the back pew of the First Cordonian Church of Everlasting Peace, Alyssa Walker sat quietly with the sweetest southern belle smile, nodding her head along to the beautiful words spoken during Pastor Hakim’s sermon and hiding a pair of earbuds lodged in each ear. 

She and her husband, Drake, had laid claim to the pew when they were teens trying to sneak a kiss or two during prayers. After ten years of marriage, they no longer needed to sneak kisses but stayed in that same seat, believing the biggest sinners should stay as far away from the minister as possible. Why be the barrier that may prevent the spirit from reaching the rest of the congregation? The couple felt it was the least they could do.

They were actually pretty good folks and well respected in their community. Alyssa had taught first grade for eight years at the local elementary school, where her two children, nine-year-old Audrey and six-year-old Patrick, also attended. Her best friend since third grade, Riley, was the art teacher there. 

Drake worked nearby as the lead mechanic at Rys and Sons Chevrolet out on North Ramsford Avenue. Constantine had owned the auto dealership for 35 years before passing it down to his sons, Leo and Liam, when he ran for and became the town's mayor. Leo peaced out, heading to South Florida, while Liam took on the sole responsibility of ownership himself. 

And while most people in this sleepy little town of Cordonia were Falcons fanatics, Alyssa grew up rooting for the team where her parents were born and raised before settling in Georgia as newlywed lawyers: The Chicago Bears.

With the game against the Packers blaring into her ear, she kept a keen eye on the rest of her fellow parishioners. When they clapped, she clapped. When they sang, she sang. She raised her hands in hallelujahs when they did. She had learned to read lips and could “Amen” and “Praise God” right on cue with the rest of them. All the while, she sat in contentment, listening to her weekly football games. 

“The score with 14 seconds left in the second quarter is Chicago -- 14, Green Bay -- 17. The Bears have the ball on the 5-yard line. It’s third and goal. If Trubisky can score here, they’ll go into the locker room at halftime with a lead for the first time in this game, or possibly tie it all up with a field goal after this down. This is a huge, HUGE play, Jim ...” 

Alyssa twined her fingers together and lowered her forehead onto them as she waited with bated breath for the announcer to call the play-by-play. As far as anyone else knew, she was praying fervently for the Hebrews crossing the parted Red Sea away from Pharoah's army that the pastor was chronicling.

“And here comes the snap. Trubisky backs up. He tosses to Robinson in the end zone. OHHH! So close… batted away by Alexender …”

“JESUS!” Alyssa yelled out in anger. With earbuds in, she didn’t realize how loudly that just came out of her mouth. Drake nudged her in the thigh. She glanced over at him for a second before he nodded to the 123 pairs of eyes that had all turned at once in her direction. It instantly dawned on her that everyone in the congregation heard the outburst.

Feeling the color drain from her face, Alyssa placed a hand over her chest and addressed, “I am soooo into this sermon, Hakim. Woohoo! Go, Jesus, go!” She pumped her fist in the air like she was rooting him on.

Drake dropped his face onto Patrick’s shoulder, who was sitting on his lap, to cover the incessant laughter that threatened to spill out of him. He was doing a terrible job of it, as a momentary burst of muffled snickers could be heard through the sound of the game playing in Alyssa’s ear. Her husband was nothing but a big kid himself -- she wouldn’t change that for anything.

“Mommy,” Audrey whispered next to her. “It’s about Moses. Not Jesus.”

Alyssa smiled, patting her daughter’s knee. “Same thing, baby. They both performed miracles.” She cut her eyes to the phone hidden under the cardigan draped across her thighs. “And the Bears need a miracle right now, guys,” she muttered, “Part those shithead Packer’s defensive line, Lord. It’s time to help my Bears get to the promised land.”

“Going for it on fourth down, Trubisky drops back. The Packer defense is putting a lot of pressure on the Bear’s offensive line. Every man is covered in the end zone. He has no one to throw to, Jim. They’re running out of time. Four seconds left. And, NOOO, they sack Trubisky on the 10-yard line … WAIT THE BALL IS LOOSE … THE BALL IS LOOSE ... he fumbled the ball. The Packers are scrambling to get it. There are green and white jerseys all over that ball. BUT LOOK … Green Bay’s Klark picks it up. He’s running the other way … and he just slipped … he just slipped, and the football fell right into the hands of Chicago’s Robinson --”  

Alyssa grabbed Drake’s thigh, her fingers digging deeply with hope and panic. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” her stressed words weren’t audible to the crowd, but they were speaking volumes in her heart.

“--Robinson’s on the 20, now 15, he’s sweeping past the defense to the 10 -- 5 -- TOUCHDOWN, CHICAGO!!!”

"FUCK YES!" Alyssa jumped up, her arms outstretched in a V shape. “Hallelujah. Holy shit. Thank ya, Jesus.” She let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling nothing short of elated, not concerned in the slightest by the heads that twisted around again.

Hakim stood slack-jawed from the raised platform for a moment, his tallish physique slouching on the pulpit, before adjusting the microphone and clearing his throat deeply. "I'm certainly glad, Sister Alyssa is ... feeling the spirit this morning."

"I am feeling it, Brother Hakim," She shook her head profusely. "I. Am. Feeling it." She shot him a dimpled grin.

Drake snorted loudly, covering his face with one hand and grabbing the side of her dress to pull her back down with the other.

They turned to each other, neither one able to control the snickering and shaking of their bodies. Drake lifted a sleeping Patrick over his shoulder while Alyssa grabbed Audrey's hand; the Walker couple decided they were too immature for church this morning.

They laughed all the way to the parking lot.

"It's never a dull moment with you, baby girl," Drake chuckled, turning over the ignition.

"You know me …” She blew on her nails before rubbing them against her chest. “... just doing the Lord's work." 

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

It was customary in Cordonia for families to gather together each week for a big supper after church. 

The Walkers traditionally took turns hosting with Liam and Riley, and Constantine and Regina. This week's meal was at the elder Ryses.

Sitting down at the dining room table, everyone licked their chops, hungry and ready to dig into all the made-from-scratch southern goodness Mrs. Regina had prepared: Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, green beans with hamhock, corn-on-the-cob, deviled eggs, biscuits, sweet tea, and coffee. It was all accompanied by two containers of broccoli salad, Alyssa picked up from the Piggly Wiggly deli after church, and Riley's lopsided carrot cake.

There was always a lot of food, a lot of love, and what would it be in a small town without a little gossip here and there.

"Regina, you've outdone yourself on this meal," Liam raved while placing his five-month-old son in a high chair and fastening the clasps. "If it tastes as good as it smells, we're all in for a big treat."

Everyone agreed as she sat down, Constantine pushing her chair in with a peck to the top of her head. "Thank you, Liam." She looked up at her husband with a sincere smile, rubbing his arm. "Only the best for our family."

She meant every word of that as she and Constantine glanced around the table at all the cheerful faces of the people they loved most — that included Drake and his family. 

Drake's father had been the sheriff for many years before his untimely death, while the younger Walker was a teen. Connie had never met a braver, more hard-working man than Jackson; the now mayor stepped in after that death to be the father figure in Drake's life. Drake was already best friends with Liam, and over time, the family just considered him one of their own. Drake and Alyssa's children referred to them as Mamaw and Papaw Rys.

As everyone settled in and passed the food around the table, the doorbell rang; 7-year-old Ellie -- Liam and Riley's oldest -- jumped up to answer it. With everyone focused on getting their helpings, Riley leaned over and whispered to Alyssa, "Any more scoop on Savannah?"

Alyssa passed the potatoes to her and answered in a hushed tone, "I drove past her house yesterday ... Chuck was there. His big rig was backed right up into the driveway. They're not even trying to hide it anymore."

"I knew it." Riley slapped a scoop of potatoes onto her plate, passing them across to Liam. "When does Bertrand get back from that Bankers Convention in Atlanta?"

"I think Max said on Tuesday. And I guarn-damn-tee, Chuck will be there until then."

"Of course he will. Have you told Drake yet?"

Alyssa shook her head, peeking over at her husband, who was in hog heaven, dousing everything on his plate with white gravy, blissfully unaware of their idle chitchat. She turned back to Riley. "Not yet. You know how protective he is. I'll need to hide the gun cabinet keys when he finds out ... if he finds out. You remember how upset he got when Bianca got caught at the Love's Truck Stop with Landon Ebrim over the summer. His mama can do what she wants, but not with a married man."

Riley agreed with a nod before taking a sip and swallowing her sweet tea. "Ya know, I've never seen sweet Emmaline that angry."

"Yeah, me neither. She sure whopped ass that day." They both giggled lightly. "Landon's dentures flew clean across that truck lot."

"I saw her the other day at the Food Lion, grinnin' like a baked possum. Got that ol' dog for everything he had."

Alyssa huffed, "Cept' his nuts."

Ellie ran back in and hopped in her chair. "Miss Olivia is here!"

Alyssa stiffened, clutching her fork a little tighter before letting out a faint groan. Not that she didn't like the Assistant Principal of Cordonia Elementary -- she was her boss, after all, and they grew up together -- she could just be a little off-putting, sometimes with her treatment of Drake. In light of Olivia's recent divorce, she had, however, started directing most of her scorn on her ex-husband, Anton.

Everyone greeted Olivia as she strolled in behind the youngster, shrugging her jacket off and tossing it on a counter with her purse. "I smelled your chicken and taters all the way from Lythikos Drive, Regina. You know how I love a good rib stickin' meal."

"Is Travis and Waylon here?" Patrick piped up eagerly from the children's table, hoping to have some boys to play with rather than the three little girls who kept ganging up on him.

Olivia pulled out a chair and started loading her plate down. "They're with their daddy this weekend, sugar. I'll tell them you asked about them."

Drake lifted his coffee mug, not making eye contact with anyone. "Speaking of ... I saw Anton yesterday at the Dollar Tree ... with someone." He smirked into his drink. While everyone else knew who and was trying to avoid the elephant in the room, he owed her for years of squabble.

"Who? Madeleine?" Olivia spat, adding heaping spoonfuls of sugar to her already overly sweetened tea. "Bless her rotten heart, he was seeing her before our break up. Moved in with her right after the divorce was final, so I hope she's enjoyed cookin' and cleanin' after my youngins' all weekend, cause she's gonna be doin it a hell of a lot more now that she got herself fired."

Madeleine was a bank teller in the drive-thru at First Cordonia and also Leo's ex-fiancee. 

"Madeleine got fired?" Alyssa asked in surprise. "She's been there for years."

The redhead swirled the sugar around in her tea with a spoon before licking it off and continuing, "Mmm-hmm. Bertrand caught her on video, stuffing her gaudy drawers into the vacuum tubes at the bank and sending them to that bastard when he drove through to make a deposit. He was making deposits alright. Right between her scrawny, cankled ass --"

"Olivia!" Liam quickly interjected, knowing once she got going, it would likely turn R-rated with several little ears listening. "I'm dying to hear how the Christmas Festival for next Saturday is coming along." He shot a look across the table at Drake for getting her worked up. Drake simply grinned.

By late afternoon, supper had been eaten, dishes cleaned, and pants unbuttoned. After a couple of hours of chatting on the back porch and watching the kids play, the two younger couples packed up leftovers Regina insisted they take home and were ready to hit the road. 

Liam and Riley lived next door and walked out with the Walkers who were making their way to the Tahoe parked on the street.

Alyssa bounced and cooed over baby Jacob before handing him back to Riley and getting into the vehicle's passenger seat. 

Liam was leaning into the driver's side window, having a casual discussion with Drake about the opening day of deer season next Saturday and asking what time he wanted to head out.

Alyssa was half-listening and half-working the stereo when an idea popped into her head. "You know what would be fun?” Both men stopped talking and glanced over at her. “We should all go?”

Drake knit his brows. “Go where?

“Hunting. We can make it a double date. You and me, Riley and Liam. The great outdoors. Some quality time together. I’ll even make snacks for everyone. It’ll be fun,” her voice was chipper. She was excited about it. 

She was also deadly serious. 

So were the dubious looks Drake and Liam gave each other over the thought of taking their wives on the most important hunting event of their year. Not that either didn't enjoy spending time with their significant others, but hunting was a whole different world. It was a one-person sport where you spent the day away from reality and responsibilities and just enjoying the great outdoors —a place to be alone and experience the thrill of a good hunt.

“Guys, I’m serious. We go fishing together, and I’ve shot targets plenty of times. I really wanna go hunting with you. Riley wants to go too, don't you?” She cast an inquisitive glance out her window at Riley, who glared back with the biggest what-the-fuck look she'd ever made. “See, she wants to go too.”

“Baby,” Drake began softly, giving her knee light squeezes. “I don’t mind taking you, but this is opening day. We’ll be in the woods for hours, in the cold. It’s not really what someone would consider a ‘date.’ And we’re going to the Festival that night … we’ll get a chance to spend time together there.”

She held his gaze as her lips began to quiver. “I understand. You .. you need time to be away from me, and it was a dumb idea anyway --”

“No,” Drake cut in. His heart plummeted from the sadness in her voice and eyes. “That’s not it at all. I love spending time with you. And if you really want to do this, then … let’s do this.”

“Really? We can go together?” Drake nodded with a smile before she squealed in his ear and pulled him into a tight hug. “I can’t wait! Thank you!”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Liam let out a heavy breath as he looked over at Riley -- The woman he knew would not be a fun hunting partner next week -- still standing on the sidewalk, appearing like she might faint. “Yeah ... I can’t wait either.”

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

Saturday. 5:15 a.m. The cellphone alarm on Drake’s bedside table let off a series of rhythmic beeping sounds and vibrations. 

The alarm wasn’t needed. The man had been awake for hours, listening to his wife's gentle snores; the anticipation of bringing home at least a 12-pointer keeping him from falling back asleep. 

Letting out a ferocious yawn and a hearty stretch, he picked up his phone to dismiss the alarm and rolled over to wake Alyssa.

With her ass perfectly curled into the space between his stomach and thighs, his hands settled on her curvy hip, jostling her slightly. “Time to get up, my little peach. We gotta get crackin’ before all the good deer are gone.”

“I just need one more hour, okay? Thanks,” she protested with a drowsy murmur, pulling the pillow over her head.

Drake chuckled, rubbing soothing circles over her back. “No. We have to get up now. We’re wasting time, sleepyhead. Unless … you don’t want to go.”

Alyssa’s heavy eyes stung as she tried to peel them open one at a time. “No, I wanna … go ...” she trailed. Her eyes slowly shut again, and she was out.

On a day like today, Drake was usually up and ready in ten minutes. Once he could finally get his wife out of bed, dressed, and back awake again from where she fell asleep on the toilet, it was close to 45 minutes. 

Maxwell, who was also a childhood friend and the music teacher where Alyssa taught, rented the room over their garage. He agreed to come down that morning and watch the kids while the pair spent their morning in the woods. Bianca used to help out in that regard, but the kids complained she slept the whole time, and Alyssa was pretty sure her mother-in-law smoked pot around them.

Drake loaded up the truck, placing his rifle and a smaller .22 caliber for Alyssa behind the seat. Dragging herself slowly to the vehicle, the night sky still pitch black and her breath turning to thick vapors in the frigid air, she listlessly tossed a Taylor Swift tote bag on the floorboard and climbed in.

Drake looked at his phone after everything was packed up to see if Liam had sent a message about being late. It was unusual for him not to be there already. Typically, his best friend was up and at his house before Drake was even ready. He sent off a quick text to check.

Drake: Where you at, man?

Liam: Running late. Riley had to put makeup on and do her hair. 

Liam: I’m having so much fun already 😑

Liam: snark

Drake: Lyss couldn’t decide which gloves looked the best with her orange vest. I guess she wants to impress the deer before she kills them.

Liam: We’re not catching deer today. We’ll be lucky if we catch a cold. Be there in 10.

Twenty minutes later, Liam’s gray Silverado pulled onto the Walker’s gravel drive. Riley had wanted biscuits and gravy from McDonald's, and she had to run back inside to pee, so that set them back. But, with everyone now there, they were finally ready to head out.

Just down the rural road from where Drake and Alyssa lived, the current sheriff of Cordonia, Bastien, owned several acres of unoccupied land that he used for recreation. He had been a close friend of Drake’s dad and agreed to let Drake and Liam hunt and fish on his property whenever they wanted.

Turning onto the dirt road and opening the gate, the four friends arrived at their spot just as dawn was breaking. 

No one spoke much as they trekked through the mud, sticks, and brittle fall leaves that littered the path to the deer stands. Riley and Alyssa were too exhausted to say anything. Drake and Liam just weren’t used to talking at all.

"Riley, love,” Liam whispered softly. “Can you watch how you’re walking? The noise is going to scare the deer away.”

“I can’t help it if … " She reacted loudly in frustration before Liam placed a finger over his lips, and she resumed speaking more quietly. “I can’t help it if there're leaves everywhere. I’m walking on them as delicately as possible.”

“How much further? I think my toes are frozen and I need coffee.” Alyssa bemoaned while walking on the balls of her heels. Drake was basically dragging her sluggish body by the hand. Her eyes were still drooping from exhaustion with every careful step.

“Just over yonder of that fence row is our stand.” He pointed out.

Alyssa aimed her flashlight around the woods in several spots. "And where do we pee at?"

Liam lightly snorted as Drake answered matter-of-factly. "Just over yonder of that fence row below our stand."

"Oh ... " her tone was small and apprehensive, "... I guess that's ... okay." She glanced back timidly at Liam, who was following close behind.

He shielded his eyes from the beam of her flashlight in his face and frowned. "I'm not going to watch you pee, Alyssa."

Riley gasped, "Eww! I don't want Drake watching me pee either." 

"Shhhhh." Liam was quick to remind her again of the volume of her voice.

"Stop, shushing me, Liam! Those deer don't know I'm out here."

Drake grunted, then whipped around to face the three of them. "Would you keep your voices down? No one's watching anybody take a piss," he whisper-yelled. "Lyssa and I will be at least a hundred yards away from ya'll. Riley, I promise you can piss your little heart out, and I won't see it."

"We're separating?" Alyssa asked wistfully. "What if I need to ask Riley something, and she can't hear me yelling across to her?"

"You'll just have to ask her when we're done, baby girl. And ... please don't yell questions to her while we're out here. Low voices."

They continued on with their noisy hike.

"Having so much fun," Liam grumbled to himself.

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

Liam and Riley headed to their tree stand as Drake helped Alyssa climb up the ladder to theirs. 

The stand and ladder were made of plywood -- chipped and faded from years of exposure to the elements -- and were attached at the apex to an oak tree about twenty feet off the ground. At the top it had enough room to take a step onto, with a wooden seat just wide enough to accommodate them. One plank rail came out on both sides. 

Alyssa plopped down onto the seat, clutching her tote bag of goodies on her lap. She lifted the brim of the orange beanie she borrowed from Drake -- that smelled of animal carcass and gun powder -- above her eyes and peered out to the wilderness spread monumentally below. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled the fresh, dewy air, taking in the sounds of twittering birds, branches clashing from the nearby squirrel frolicking on them, and the rippling of a bubbling brook streaming down the hill. 

A pleasant warmth overcame her as Drake's much larger body sat down next to her and protected her from the frosty wind blowing in from his side.

Alyssa wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling into him. "I can see why you like this so much. It's so quiet and peaceful ... look how purty it is out here, Drake. It's just real purty, isn't it?"

Working diligently on getting their gear together, he stopped briefly to look out; affection glowed in his eyes. “It sure is, darlin’. Almost as purty as you ... and notice I said 'almost.'” He winked, and Alyssa blushed, feeling that same love trickling up inside her she'd had since they were teenagers. Drake could charm the pants off a chipmunk, but she was thankful he only used that gift on her.

"Sooo ... " She drawled in her thick Southern accent. "How long will it be before the deer start coming out?" 

Drake drew the barrel of her gun back after loading it with shells and explained, "Don't know. It could be minutes. It could be a few hours. Just whenever they head this way, I reckon."

Perplexed, Alyssa nodded slowly. "A few hours? I s'pose that's okay. What do you do while you're waiting?"

He shrugged, passing a gun to her. "You just ... sit here."

"You just sit here and do what?"

Drake leaned over to kiss into her orange cap and replied, "Wait."

"Wait." She acknowledged. "I can do that. I'll just sit here ... and wait."

Several minutes had passed, and Alyssa was already bored with listening to nature, Drake's gurgling stomach, and sitting quietly with nothing to do. Every so often, a shotgun blast was heard in the distance, signifying either someone out there had gotten their prize or Riley had driven Liam insane. It was the only break from the monotony that came with the boredom of sitting in a tree for who knew how many hours.

Letting out a giant exhale that caught Drake's attention, she propped her rifle against the railing and pulled the cloth tote that was sitting between her boots into her lap. Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out her phone and began thumbing out a message.

Drake furrowed his brows and asked, "What're you doin'?" 

"Just texting Riley,' she answered dismissively. He shook his head and leaned it back against the tree while she formulated her message.

Alyssa: You still alive over there? How's it going?

Riley: This is boring as shit.

Riley: And now my texting is apparently scaring away the deer. F the deer Liam. F all the damn deer!!!! What were you thinking, Lyss?

Alyssa: I was thinking we could spend quality time with our husbands. The men we love and cherish with all of our hearts. I’m having a great time with Drake so far 😍😘

Alyssa: And no one twisted your arm to come bitch.

Riley: Liam's just staring through binoculars. He hasn’t spoken in 20 minutes except to tell me to point the gun away from him or to quit moving. Let’s go get our hair did at Adelaide's.”

Alyssa: OHHH Yes! And get Chinese food ... CRAB RANGOONS!! I'll have Drake drive us back. Girls Day Out. Love you!

Drake let out a belch and blew it away when Alyssa turned to him with a dazzling smile and a sparkle in her blues. "Can you drive Riley and me back to the house?"

"What? Right now?" he shrieked. She answered him with a cheerful nod. "What happened to all that talk about wanting to spend quality time with me?"

"I still do. But ... we're just sitting here, not really doing anything. I could be getting my hair done for tonight's festival. I also have a ton of laundry to do, some papers to grade, and I’m supposed to be making the Devereaux’s famous peach cobbler for the raffle. If I leave now, I’ll have time to do all of it.” Alyssa knew she probably wouldn’t do half of that, and Audrey would likely make the cobbler, but it made the situation sound more urgent.

"It's opening day, baby. I'm not leaving this spot." He reached into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out his keys. "If you and Riley wanna take my truck, I'll ride back with Liam."

She gave him an exasperated look. "I don't know my way back to the truck. And I sure as hell know Riley doesn't."

He smirked, stuffing his keys back. "Then you're stuck."

The next hour was brutal. Alyssa texted Riley to alleviate the boredom for several minutes, but there had been no responses in a long while. She wasn't aware that Liam tossed her friend's phone over the hill when she started making TikTok videos of her plight -- Liam took his deer hunting seriously: No noise meant no noise.

Drake wasn't much better; he was quieter than his usual self. It wouldn't have been so bad if she could at least talk. An occasional whispered word was not going to cut it.

Alyssa sighed heavily. She wiggled around for comfort. She unwrapped a Nutty Bar. She crunched. She opened a can of pop. She tapped her fingers. She flipped the pages of a magazine. Each one got that look from Drake that let her know it was too loud. If she ever made it out of there, she planned to jabber and stir until she couldn't do it anymore.

After another half-hour of stewing quietly in her thoughts without a sign of a deer anywhere, Alyssa decided now was the time to finally just talk. 

"Do you ever think about having another baby?" It was a topic that had been on her mind for a while. To her surprise, Drake didn't give her a look or even freak out the way she anticipated. Despite his own rule of silence, he even responded in kind.

"Yeah. Kind of a lot."

Her right brow darted up. "Really?" 

Drake took a breath and shifted the gun across his lap. "I mean, of course. It's always been my dream to settle down and have a bunch of youngin's with the woman I love." He studied her lit-up face; he'd swore she'd gotten more beautiful with age. That's why he hesitated when he added, "But ... "

Her shoulders slumped at his words, and a deflated look impressed upon her face. "But ... " The word barely made it past her lips.

Drake reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. "Lyssa, we have so much going on right now. You're working on National Boards, Audrey has piano recitals and basketball, Patrick has peewee football and Boy Scouts. We barely have time -- except for right now -- for just ... us. I'm not saying,"never"... just that right now ... isn't a good time."

"I understand that, but ... we've always made it work. And don't you miss those tiny little fingers wrapped around yours? And the way they smell fresh out of the bath? And those chubby little cheeks pressed up against yours?" she goaded.

“Of course I do. I remember the first time I held Audrey and PJ in my arms -- there’s just no better feeling in the world than ...to look down ... " Drake paused as his voice cracked, and his brown eyes glistened like glass. " ... and to see someone so small ..." When she sniffled, it made it that much harder for him to speak. "... that you created with the woman you've loved since you were 16 years old. But I like who they are now, and watching them grow, and doing things with them ... And, well ... there’s no shit clean up.”

“You obviously haven’t washed Patrick's clothes in a while,” Alyssa retorted with a chuckle that brought out one in her husband.

"I’ll have to talk to him about that." He gazed deeper into her eyes. "But I do love you ... more than all the peaches in Georgia, Lyssa Claire.”

Alyssa smiled.“That’s what you said to me when you promised to marry me when we were teens.”

Drake returned his own smile. “I did. I remember like it was yesterday too. Sitting in your parent’s basement, watching Friends reruns, eating pizza, making out. And hell, it’s still as true today as it was then. Somehow, even more."

Their cold lips parted and joined halfway for a fervent kiss, with Drake's hand meandering around the subtle groove at the junction of her waist. Just as it became more intense and desirous, a rustling of twigs off in a nearby thicket caught Drake's ear, and he broke away, his eyes scoping the perimeter. Alyssa wasn't offended, she heard it too, and her heart raced with excitement.

Lifting the binoculars hanging from his neck, he spotted two deer eating from a blackberry patch some thirty yards away. He pointed in their direction; Alyssa gave a quick thumbs up, letting him know she saw them too.

Drake carefully lifted the rifle resting in his lap as Alyssa leaned forward and squinted to get a better visual. "Is that a buck and a doe?" she whispered, not moving an inch.

"Sure as fuck is." He mounted the stock of his .30 caliber, Winchester, just beneath his collarbone;  the rush of this moment coursed ravenously through his body. He lined up the scope and placed a steady finger on the trigger -- his thumb pulling the hammer back.

“Wait.” Alyssa loudly whispered. “You can’t shoot him.”

"I'm gonna. Better cover your ears."

"No, Drake. There's a doe with him. What if that's his wife? You can't just leave her all alone without him."

"Lyss, this is the whole reason we're out here."

"So you can make a widow out of her?"

"No ... so I can make deer chili out of him."

Alyssa's mouth flew open. "No. No. RUUUUUUUUN! RUUUUUUN!"

Drake pulled his face away from the scope and fired her a look. "What the hell are you doing? They're getting away!"

She tilted her chin boldly. "I don't care. That was her husband, and they're in love, and you can't take that away from them. I would be so sad if we were just out eating berries and someone came up and shot you, ALL SO THEY COULD EAT DRAKE CHILI!". 

Drake dropped his head. He knew there was no point in arguing with her. As long as he’d known her, she was stubborn, and at that moment, she was dead set in believing those two deer were living out the greatest romance of all time. Nothing he said or did would change her mind on that. 

A thought emerged while he attempted to comprehend the logic of the situation. Those deer ran off in the direction where Liam was set up. Maybe if he could give his friend a heads up, it was still possible at least someone would leave those woods with the prized buck.

Turning his back from Alyssa so that she couldn't stop him, he pulled a small walkie-talkie from his pocket and radioed Liam. Alyssa knew what was up and jumped to her feet, thrusting her arms around him in an attempt to stop the travesty.

"You can't do this, Drake," she hollered, "That’s her soulmate. And why don't I have a walkie-talkie? I want a walkie-talkie!"

While seated next to Liam, Riley was swinging her legs, purposefully making the soles of her boots scrape against the platform. Liam tried to ignore her; maybe he had been a little too uptight about every little noise and utterance she made. But this was playing a whole different ballgame now: she was now making it her mission to piss him off.

Prepared to pound his head against the tree, Liam gritted his teeth, skimming his eyes in her direction. "Love, do you have to do that?"

"Did you have to throw my phone in the woods?" She spat back.

Liam rubbed his hand over his face. "No, and I am sorry that. I apologize for all of eternity. I promise I will get you another one as soon as we get back, okay?”

Riley huffed. "Fine, but that phone had all of my contacts on it. It had our babies' pictures and videos on it ... our vacation photos. I can't get those memories back ever, and I have to find it, and God only knows where it landed. It could be ..." She stopped rattling on when she caught sight of the distressed look Liam was giving her. Knitting her brows, Riley asked, "What?"

"Nothing ... just ... can you lower your voice a little? You're gonna scare the deer away," 

He regretted it as soon as it came out. 

“LIAAAAM!”

He saw the steam gushing out of her ears. There was no time to answer the incoming call on his walkie-talkie from Drake.

Belting out a furious screech, Riley jumped up and tried to jerk the gun from his hands. There was no question she wouldn't shoot him, but she'd sure as hell shred his favorite gun apart piece-by-piece and toss them all the way to Portavira Lake on the other side of town.

Riley tugged with all of her might. "I have HAD IT with being quiet for those damn deer, Liam. HAD IT!"

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down ..." He stood up in front of her, pulling back on the rifle even harder, surprised -- and not pleasantly so -- his considerably smaller wife had this much struggle in her.

"Don't you sweetheart me. You have shushed me for the last time, Liam Preston Rys!"

“Okay, I’m sorry! But can you at least admit us fighting over a gun is dangerous? Somebody is going to get seriously hurt, and I don’t want it to be you, Riley. Please. I won’t shush you anymore, I promise.” His face softened, eventually adorning a loving smile at his wife, who, with a sigh, was unable to resist that handsome face and relaxed her grip. 

Riley gave him a half-smile in return. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve ruined your hunting trip.”

“Yes ... you did.” Liam agreed, dodging the playful slap she nearly made to his upper arm. “But I don’t want to fight anymore.”

With the War of the Ryses finally over, they went in for a makeup kiss until Drake’s voice called out to Liam again through his walkie talkie. Liam set the gun down on the bench and leaned it against the tree before he started digging into his pocket to answer the device. Riley dropped down onto the seat, her elbow brushed against the rifle and caused it to slide away until the barrel end hit the railing and set off a powerful blast.

When the ringing in both of their ears subsided, and the smoke had cleared, Liam and Riley collected themselves from the sudden spine-gripping explosion that shook them both. While Riley explained to Liam what happened, a hysterical sounding Drake came back over the walkie-talkie, wailing, “Alyssa’s been shot! Alyssa’s been shot! Help me!”

__________________

Later that evening, in the courthouse square, the street was lit up with zig-zagged rows of red, green, and white lights. Strands of garland were wound around every lamppost in perfect spiraled loops, and red bows hung and waved with the wintry breeze.

With traffic rerouted away from the area, vendors lined sidewalks selling local goods to put the town's citizens in the festive spirit. What would this small town in Georgia have been without boiled peanuts, low country boil, fried green tomatoes, barbecue, and peach everything? 

Once Constantine had lit the 30-foot spruce, surrounded by hundreds of merry people from all walks of life that made up this small community, the festival was officially kicked-off.

In a large tent set up on the square, Liam and Riley laid out styrofoam containers and drinks they’d purchased from a barbeque vendor on one of several picnic tables inside. With their two young daughters munching away on their meal, and the stroller with their sleeping son beside them, they both sat down with heavy hearts and restless minds.

Liam bit into his barbecue sandwich, noticing Riley only prodding at her mac-and-cheese while staring off into the distance. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong; he knew what happened that morning was bothering her with guilt and worry. It wasn’t every day she accidentally shot someone.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Riley shook her head slightly with a sad look. “No. It’s just not the same without Alyssa here. You know how much she loves Christmas and the festival. She was so looking forward to it too, until --”

“You shot her.”

“Yeeeeeesssss,” she cried out. Liam reached across the table and gave her hand a comforting squeeze, his thumb caressing her smooth skin. Riley continued to sniffle as she grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped the barbecue sauce off Liam’s sticky fingers that were now smeared all over hers. “I didn’t mean to, I swear it. And the way … and the way Drake cried. It broke my heart. Now he has her on bed rest AND house arrest. He won’t let her take calls. I’ll never see or hear from my bestie agaaaain.” The tears continued to flow in steady streams.

Liam stiffened, feeling the eyes of everyone in that tent, gawking at his overly-dramatic wife breaking down. He started to tell her to lower her voice, but after the gun battle in the woods, he thought better of it. “Riley, darlin’, you know Drake is really overprotective of Alyssa. And as scary as what happened was, she only needed the one stitch and band-aid for her graze wound. Something tells me Drake won’t be able to keep her down long.”

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

Liam was right. As much as Drake tried to keep her in bed so he could wait on her hand and foot, protect her from the careless friends of the world who could inadvertently do his baby girl harm, and check to see if she needed a new band-aid every few minutes, he could not keep her down. She had been far too excited to hang out with the people she loved so much and celebrate at one of her favorite festivals.

Maxwell had left for the events with Audrey and Patrick an hour ago; they were part of the children’s caroling group and needed to be there early. Against Drake’s wishes, Alyssa showered, got dressed, and made sure he knew in no uncertain terms would he be able to prevent her from going. The only thing he knew to do was to go, follow her around the entire night, and make sure she wouldn’t get shot again.

They circled the block where everything was held several times, but spaces to park were impossible to find. Three blocks away was the church where they attended, and the parking lot was completely empty. Drake didn’t like the fact that Alyssa would have to walk so far in her debilitated condition and was prepared to haul her piggyback style if he had to, but this was the best spot he could find.

Drake moved the gearshift into park and reached over to grab Alyssa’s arm, who was already bounding out the door. He pulled Alyssa back inside, the chilly air blowing through her open door swept her straighten hair this way and that way. 

She cocked her head to the side and exhaled, “Drake, I can open my own door. I’m not broken. It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.”

“I know.” He smiled that tenderhearted smile only Alyssa had ever seen. The same one sending a shudder through her already chilled body. “I changed my mind,” he replied simply

Alyssa slammed her eyes shut and groaned. “I just told you I was fine --”

“No, no,” He shook his head. “About having another baby. I want to start trying.”

Saddled with curiosity, she slid back into the truck and shut the door. “But, I thought you said we didn’t have time for that --”

“Yeah, I did say that. I still believe it. But … today made me realize that yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today …”

Alyssa’s hand flew to her mouth as she laughed out loud. Drake gave her a confused look before chuckling awkwardly to himself, “What’s so funny?”

She lowered her hand, still laughing. “You got that saying from a quote on a poster in my classroom. You’re the one who hung it up for me.”

The memory dawned on him, and he lowered his head, attempting to cover the guilty grin that spread over it. “Well, hell. Here I was trying to make you think I was all insightful and smart and stuff.”

Alyssa’s hand splayed across his rugged chest as she leaned over to kiss him.“You are very insightful and smart. You know I never settle for anything less than the best.”

“I s’pose.” he said, forking his fingers through his hair. “But … I guess what I wanted to say was … I know that bullet missed you, barely … but what if it hadn’t? What if I’d left those woods without you today? Just like you were afraid that doe might. Time wouldn’t matter anymore. There will NEVER be enough time with you. You’re my life, Alyssa Claire. You’re my lover, my friend, my heart, my confidante, my soul, my everything … my little peach. I want to experience all that life has given me with you as my wife … and forever make time with you.”

“DRAAAKEY!” she bawled, spreading her tiny arms wide around his bulky body. Alyssa drew him into her so hard it nearly crushed the wind right out of his lungs. “I -- love -- you -- so muuuch!” Drake patted her back and kissed into her hair as she sniveled into his shirt. He hated when she cried, but damn if this didn’t feel good to him. Anytime she was happy made him that way too. 

They took a moment to kiss and pet each other a little before Alyssa sat up and asked, “So … when do you want to start trying for a new baby Walker?”

He shrugged. “Whenever you want, baby.”

Alyssa looked through the back window of the truck and scanned the parking lot. She bit her lip and looked back at him impishly. “What about … now?”

Drake’s eyes flew open wide. “In the church parking lot?”

Pursing her lips, she affirmed, “Yes. We’ve done it behind the Piggly Wiggly plenty of times. And let's not forget the ‘Great Ass Blow-out of 2019’ in the Atlanta Convention Center parking garage.”

“I will never forget that.” Drake shook his head as that momentous sexual experience replayed in his mind. “Mmmm, you performed magic that day, woman.”

She raised a brow and coaxed him on, “So? What’dya say?”

Drake took a tentative look around at the dark, empty lot, then back at her. “We’re so going to hell, but I’m in.”

“Eeeeeee,” she squealed, jerking his arm around in excitement. “Try to keep your ass out of the window this time, okay?”

Thirty minutes later, Pastor Hakim pulled into the church parking lot with Mara, the game warden, following behind in her truck. There had been several reports from passerby’s of loud animals howling and screeching behind the church. The stray cat population was out of control in that area, and several cats had burrowed their way inside the church on occasion. 

Hakim parked his car, with Mara pulling in beside him. They both got out simultaneously and listened quietly to see if they could decipher where the commotion was coming from. 

Within seconds, a load moan roared out, followed by several consecutive whimpers that were hard to make out by the duo.

Mara listened intently, then gestured with her flashlight to an area near the back of the lot where clusters of shrubs and dry brush bordered. Hakim ambled behind her, the noise getting closer and closer until the pastor's brow furrowed at the shaking of a nearby truck.

“Damn, teenagers,” he grumbled as they tipped toed discreetly.

Mara crouched down by the truck's tailgate, Hakim bending over while she duck-walked toward the driver's side door.

The game warden turned to the pastor and instructed, “On my three. 1 -- 2 -- 3.” They both jumped up at the same time, flashing the light inside the cab. “HAHA Caught ya! OH MY GOD!”

Alyssa, who was on top of Drake, completely naked except for the band-aid on her left arm, looked up in utter humiliation and shock. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover her breast, feeling like she might faint. Not knowing what to say at that moment to rectify their actions or why those two were still staring inside the truck, Alyssa smiled sheepishly. “I’m still feeling the spirit, Hakim.”

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

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[johnnys-green-pen]

Random E! Thoughts: S4E12 - Details

That sweet look at Johnny and Roy’s friendship outside of the station.

Johnny having a little… what, quarter-life crisis? I mean, that’s wildly relatable, but I’m still endlessly amused by Johnny thinking he’s getting old.

Also, this is the one episode that kinda fixes the upper bound for Johnny’s canon age: if we take “a few more years” to mean at least two, he can’t be older than 28 at this point, which would make him about 24-ish in the first season. Which is the upper bound.

The thing that makes Johnny not absolutely insufferable despite his dating woes is his staunch professionalism when dealing with female victims. I love the contrast between him checking Valerie for injuries and him turning into a complete doofus the second she shows some interest in him later on.

Also, the house fire! So many great things we don’t get to see much! The engine crew having to render first aid, Captain Stanley being awesome and captain-ly, Marco getting some actual screentime for once (and in Spanish! I think y’all know by now how much I love the casual use of non-English languages in E!)…

The same language thing also applies to Nurse Juanita, of course. 

(And, heh, props to Doc Early for the attempt, I guess)

Valerie and her age! Oh boy! 23 is damned young to have three kids. Especially because, how old is the oldest kid - definitely not younger than six, right? I mean, actually I’d guess something around eight or nine or so, but with E!’s tendency to age people down… Point is, 23 minus 6 is still only 17. 

Johnny fumbling through that conversation with Valerie gives me the worst second-hand embarrassment. 

Roy’s reaction though

Also, everybody’s reactions in the locker room, including Roy hovering somewhere between shocked and distinctly not amused.

Joe and Kel and the guy who watched that medical show, and the two docs comfortably snarking back and forth

Chet and Marco needling Johnny in the kitchen, and Johnny’s beautiful “you’re lucky (:” when he gets interrupted by the tones

Small details I love: sometimes a run gets cancelled without any specific narrative reason, just because runs get cancelled sometimes.

The ex-stripper/current belly dancer is awesome. I love how she’s consistently portrayed positively and as deserving of respect. 

This is the episode where the whole “Roy and Joanne knew each other as kids” thing comes from - they met when Roy was in the 4th grade and got married 12 years later.

Johnny clearly expecting more of a push-back than “well, then I’m happy for ya” and being mildly perturbed by that

Dix’ amusement at Joe being completely unable to cope with some flirting

also, “you must’ve something we’ve been overlooking here”. DIX!

How on earth does somebody even bite a dog

Johnny not being above threatening children when it comes to animals being harmed.

I gotta say, I have pretty much zero sympathy for Johnny here. THAT’s what you get for not properly getting to know the people you’re dating!

Also how the fuck does Valerie manage three kids on her own plus a job plus a social life plus looking so well-groomed. 

OKAY SO these posts usually end up me pointing out things I noticed instead of really drawing connections myself (partially because it’s hard enough to keep the shipping goggles off as it is), BUT. Back when I wrote that Johnny insomnia fic, I hinted at Johnny’s sleep issues not having been a one-time thing. I thought that was purely conjecture going off the adhd headcanon, but between Johnny’s “I haven’t slept since last shift” in this episode, him semi-accidentally pulling an all-nighter in “all night long”, and one of the first lines of dialogue in one of the movies being about Johnny falling asleep in a meeting, I might actually be onto something. 

Johnny and Roy talking in the locker room in general. The mixture of him being snarky and his soft tone is just so damn perfect.

Also, I will never not cackle at Roy needing a moment to parse “are we still engaged?” correctly. 

The helmets in that store fire are a continuity disaster. So Roy’s not wearing a helmet inside the building. He IS wearing one out on the windowsill. You can then see him toss it into the window in the wide shot after they’re setting up the life net, together with Johnny... but in the next shot he’s wearing a helmet again. It vanishes AGAIN in the next shot. 

The way Johnny looks over to Roy before jumping.

[fannishcodex]

Glimmer manipulated Scorpia into using the Heart so ehh no

!!!!

Oh this is interesting, because I had thought about that too, it's part of why I wrote, "Part of that’s because I remembered Scorpia and Glimmer seemed to *mostly nicely bond toward the end of season 4," but I just felt like giving a short answer and not going more in-depth.

I would have to rewatch the scenes, but it came across to me as more complicated--Glimmer manipulated Scorpia to use the Heart, but it still seemed like there was a shred of Glimmer genuinely being civil with Scorpia too, and it made me kinda think of the trope of how manipulation can work via using a grain of truth.

Also, more complications in this: it feels like S4 was the first time Glimmer starts really using manipulation, but there's no pattern developed yet; and then after manipulations and such backfires in her face and Glimmer realizes she too was manipulated by Light Hope (and likely really had that realization about Shadow Weaver too), Glimmer is faced with a certain choice still, and she chooses to realize she screwed up and try to fix things, try to stop the Heart, and I feel like that includes the suggestion that Glimmer realizes she probably shouldn't have manipulated Scorpia like that.

But also another complication: overall, by the time Glimmer uses Scorpia, Scorpia's defection to their side hasn't been very long, Glimmer's likely still more used to Scorpia as an enemy and may think it's not that wrong to manipulate an enemy or someone who was an enemy just hours ago. (Though this also touches on contradicting the pushed Alliance narrative that they're the "good guys" and "morally superior," but that's like another post there too.)

Tl;dr I feel like Glimmer and Scorpia's brief scenes together are more complicated and messy with the potential for maybe actual friendship later, or not at all. Could Glimmer and Scorpia have become real friends after that? No canonical idea, because canon S5 just pushes so much aside in favor of whatever the f*k they wanted for C*tra. It is wild that Glimmer and Scorpia never have to deal with any aftermath over their short partnership being the final thing to trigger the Heart of Etheria in the S4 finale, because Glimmer's just captured right after that, Scorpia is also captured, and the next time there's a possibility they're in the same area to interact, the show's over. :/

And I feel like I should bring it up because I feel like the comparison can be made/some might be thinking it: "Glimmer manipulating Scorpia is no better than C*tra"--ehhh. Actually kinda have gotten into this already in the part above, just didn't draw the direct comparison to C*tra though I was thinking it.

Approach to manipulation?

Glimmer: Pretty much just starts doing it in S4.

C*tra: Has shown a consistent pattern of doing it throughout the entire series.

Approach to triggering world annihilation?

Glimmer: She was manipulated into doing it. Once she realizes what her actions have actually helped caused, immediately tries to fix her mistake/stop world annihilation/save the world.

C*tra: Was not manipulated into doing it. Tried manipulating Hordak into doing it, but then just does it herself. When impending world annihilation becomes apparent, has chance to try to help undo the damage and impending total destruction, instead doubles down and does nothing and claims she's still fine with the world being destroyed because she "can't let Adora win/be right again."

Glimmer's actions/behavior still less than C*tra's. Glimmer and Scorpia have a more believable chance at connecting in some sort of relationship more than C*tra and Scorpia, at least when not under the constraints of canon S5 mostly derailing and ignoring exploration of how characters would actually feel about things.

...Oh that got long and spiraled into a longer ramble on more things. And tbh I'm still only mildly interested in the possibility of shipping Glimmer and Scorpia (specifically in terms of poly ship with Adora). And weirdly I still--like, think the characters just discussed aren't even really my favorites per se (especially not C*tra), but still something about them makes me care enough to focus on some instances where it seems like they're not being fully examined/the writing inconsistencies/fumbles they were saddled with in canon S5.

Like, for instance, tbh still have some mixed feelings on canon Glimmer (that started way back in S1...though I've had mixed feelings on the whole show since S1 tbh), but do feel a little touchy on how it seemed like she started getting unfair treatment later in the series and in parts of fandom.

...Like, it's really wild that Bow gives Glimmer more sh*t about her part in triggering the Heart of Etheria and at first it seems fair, but then he doesn't give the same treatment to C*tra when she triggered the Portal and it caused the loss of Angella (and probably played a role in Glimmer's downward spiral and putting her in a better position to be manipulated by Light Hope). It's just freakin' "aww cute sneezes" with him over C*tra jfc.

[starspatter]

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 17

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2,255 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

Also on ff.net and AO3.

I remember it now, it takes me back to when it all first started But I've only got myself to blame for it, and I accept it now It's time to let it go, go out and start again But it's not that easy

-Kodaline, “High Hopes”

————————–

Now.

When Stephanie emerged from behind the clock, the first thing she spotted was a giant portrait hanging over the fireplace, depicting a smiling man and woman: Bruce Wayne’s deceased parents, most likely.  Her head poked out cautiously, marveling at how majestic the manor’s interior was. She approached an expensive-looking crystal ornament on the desk, and was about to pick it up to admire it when she heard a voice clear its throat reproachfully behind her:

“Ms. Brown, I presume?”

Steph fumbled in alarm and hastily aborted the action; nearly dropping the item by accident as she frantically stabilized it and whirled around to face what appeared to be Bruce Wayne’s butler, judging by the elderly man’s neatly pressed suit and stiff, distinguished aura.  He elevated an eyebrow at her antics, but remained composed as he addressed formally to inform her:

“There is a guest waiting for you in the parlor.  If you would please follow me.”

Steph blinked in confusion, but nevertheless complied as he led her down the hall.  She wondered who he could possibly be referring to.  As her mind ran over potential candidates one by one, nerves began to steadily race, heart thumping at a panicked pace.  Surely it wouldn’t be her mother…?

When she saw the person standing there though, she immediately arrested, freezing cold in flustered recognition.  While it wasn’t her mom exactly, it might as well have been game over.

“O- officer, I can explain. I swear this isn’t what it looks like…”

Her arms flailed wildly as she prevaricated, painfully aware of the Commissioner’s pupils concentrated on the costume she was wearing.  Barbara simply smiled softly.

“Please, relax, Stephanie. I’m not here to arrest you.  I just came by to lend you these.”

She presented a set of civilian clothing, to which Steph stared in surprise.

“If there’s one thing I learned out in the field, it’s good to always keep a spare change handy somewhere available you can easily access.  Never know when you might be caught needing one.”

Stephanie tentatively took the officer’s extended offering, still completely bewildered by it.

“I… don’t understand.”

Barbara cocked her head.

“You mean you haven’t figured it out yet?”

Stephanie gazed blankly at the woman before her, studying her expectant expression and auburn hair, before the pieces gradually began to come together, clicking belatedly into place. Her jaw plummeted to the floor, as the bundle nearly did from her hands as well.

“You’re Batgirl,” she gasped, gaping wide open as she pointed straight at her and turned to the butler; dreamily repeating the deduction in disbelief, as if seeking second confirmation.  “She’s Batgirl.”

“And I thought Batman was the detective.”

He drolled, distinctly unimpressed by her latent logical reasoning.

“Took you long enough,” Barbara chuckled mildly.

Stephanie reeled in reverence at this revelation.

“I have – so many questions.”

The redhead held up her hand to pause the conversation, putting it temporarily on hold.

“There’s a lot we should probably discuss.  For now though, why don’t you get changed first.  Then we can talk.”

Stephanie nodded dumbly, and the butler directed her to the privacy of the nearest washroom, where she promptly did as she was told and shed her vegetable skin as fast as she could, donning the unfamiliar attire instead – which consisted solely of a plain black T-shirt and pair of jeans, plus a GSU sweatshirt for insulation.  When she returned to the room, the outfit’s original owner was seated on the sofa, sedately sipping a cup of tea as the butler poured another and placed it on the opposite side of the square table.

“Oh good.  They fit,” Barbara relieved as she looked up. “They’re my old clothes from back when I was in college, so I wasn’t sure if they’d be the right size.”

Stephanie sensed they were probably a little looser around the chest area, but she didn’t dare point that out.

“Come.  Sit down.  Have some tea.”

Steph obeyed the charitable beckon and took a chair, mutely accepting the drink without actually downing any. She continued to gawk at the other female across from her, struggling to find words, where to even start.  Swallowing, she eventually settled on something else that had been bugging her brain.

“So, does this mean Dick Grayson is…?”

“-Was Nightwing,” Barbara answered duly – dully – without delay. “Previously the former Robin.”

Stephanie amazed, still in awe at it all.

“I mean, I kinda figured, since they were both adopted by Mr. Wayne.  But this, I mean – meeting you – I never even realized – wow.”  She inclined forward, eyes sincerely shining.  “You were like, my idol as a kid.”

A small partial smile manifested on Barbara’s face, before being supplanted by bitter sadness as her tone hardened significantly.

“Now you’ve seen where that idol worship led Tim to.”

Stephanie lowered her visage in acknowledgement, lamenting into the liquid.

“I take it you know most everything now.”

She nodded slowly.

“…Batman showed me the tapes.”

“And?  What do you think?”

“I think…”  Steph bit her lip as she reflected, realizing to her horror the sheer amount of inadvertent injury she had to have unwittingly caused.  “…I must have hurt Tim a lot without knowing.”

Barbara set her saucer down on the counter, folding fingers firmly on top of her crossed kneecaps as she regarded the newly made accessory with frank seriousness.

“So what do you plan to do now with this information?”

Stephanie gulped at the gravity in her tenor, rolling over her tongue as she mused and mulled over everything she’d just witnessed.  Endeavoring to choose precisely the correct phrasing as she crafted her response with care, before raising her chin resolutely.

“I… want to tell Tim… that it’s okay.  It’s not his fault.  It doesn’t change the way I feel about him at all.”

A reassured beam radiated from Barbara’s countenance.

“I’m glad to hear it. And,” she added, indicating towards the creased uniform lying beside Stephanie on the couch, “What do you intend to do about that?”

Stephanie laid a palm on the purple ensemble that she had been so proud of making, gently smoothing over folds.

“A part of me – stupidly – thought that… maybe it might give Robin some – some hope.  If he saw it, it’d inspire him to come back from… wherever he went.  But,” she closed her eyes, sighing.  “Tim was right about one thing.  If it causes him this much pain to be reminded of, then it’s not worth it.”

Barbara softened at the sacrificial gesture.

“You know it’s also because he’s worried about you.  …We all are.”

“I know.”

Stephanie quietly surveyed the older woman, who certainly wore the worn look now not of admonishing authority, but of a concerned guardian purely wanting to keep her kids – people she cared about – safe.  Supervisor before superhero.  …Who had failed in that protective role once before, and regretted it ever since.  She may not have been her mother per se, but Steph was acquainted with that alike, apologetic air all too well.

“To be honest, I’m kinda relieved a bit.  I mean, I almost assumed you were a past girlfriend or something at first.”

She admitted sheepishly, sinking her blush into her beverage as she finally took a sip.

Barbara’s mouth twitched marginally in her own embarrassment.

“Rest assured, nothing of the sort ever occurred between us.  …Although I was in fact his first kiss,” she openly confessed, leaning a cheek coyly into her palm.

There was a loud clatter as Stephanie instantly plopped the mug back on the platter, sputtering and nearly spitting onto the rug as she choked, beating knuckles forcefully against her breast.

“It was nothing more than that though,” Barbara quickly consoled.  “We were both intoxicated, and I was the one who initiated it.  Tim was a total gentleman about it, he prevented it from going any further.”

Stephanie couldn’t help but receive some minor amount of amusement from the anecdote.

“That sounds like Tim all right,” she managed to hoarsely giggle through clogged windpipes.

Barbara shared a semi-mirthful smirk.

“Don’t worry, I would never consciously pursue that kind of relationship with him.  Believe me, I’m done dating guys outside my age range.”

Her sight shifted, flicking subtly towards a photograph of the master of the house on the bookshelf. Stephanie stunned again.

“You don’t mean – you and Bruce Wayne?”

Barbara said nothing as she traced the teacup’s porcelain rim before lifting to her tightened lips again, though a tiny tic tugged at the corners.  Stephanie sank back into the cushions in shock. ��She felt like her skull was just about to explode from all the exposition.  Talk about information overload.

“This is… a lot to take in.”

“Welcome to our world, Ms. Brown.”

Barbara declared with a measuredly calm demeanor.

At that moment, the lady’s eyes lit at something over Steph’s shoulder, and she swiveled her neck to see Tim had materialized like a ghost in the doorway behind her.  He stood there in utter silence, shuffling his feet reluctantly and rubbing his scruff, looking half-scared to enter, half-stupefied to see her still there.

“Steph, I-”

Stephanie flew off the furniture and raced towards him before he could finish, flinging her limbs around him.

“It’s okay, Tim.”  She whispered, burying deep into his collar and crying candidly as she squeezed him as tight as she could, refusing to let go. “It’s okay.  I’m just… glad you’re okay.”

He was far from okay. But he let her hold him like that for as long as she needed.  As he needed.  Wrapping shyly in reciprocation, feeling the light pressure and warmth of mirrored heartbeats connect to the core, until the resonating rhythm convinced that they were both, at the very least, alive and near each other.

When she broke away from the melted contact and dried her tears at last, Tim’s narrowed vision slid past, locking with Barbara’s as she stood up and walked towards him on the way to the exit.  She stopped right beside, neither quite honestly meeting the other’s eyes.

“…You knew this would happen, didn’t you?”

“He pulled the same trick with me and Dick, remember.”  Barbara exhaled, slanting irises aside.  “…Do you hate me now?”

Tim shook his head.

“I don’t know.”  He clenched his fists, experiencing a (justifiably) muddled mix of hurt and anger and frustration over blatant betrayal – double-cross – but also an overwhelming sense of release to ultimately no longer have to hide secrets anymore.  “I just… need some time to talk to Steph.  Alone.”

“I understand.”

She started to leave, and Stephanie called to her to halt.

“Wait, before you go… Can you take this for me too?”

She hurried back to the lounger and grabbed the discarded garb.

“Of course,” Barbara agreed, tucking it into her bag to replace the garments she’d let the other borrow.  “I’ll hold onto it at my house.  You can come pick it up when you return those; ah, there’s no rush, whenever you like.  …If you still care for it, that is.”

Stephanie shook her head, clearly making a show of relinquishment for Tim’s sake.

“Keep it.  I won’t be needing it anymore.”

Barbara nodded and headed out ahead of them, and the butler bowed on cue to escort her to the door as well, leaving the two be for the time being.  Tim took a step forward as he absorbed the homely atmosphere of the living room, occupying the very spot on the carpet where he would once lazily lie on his stomach with a propped pillow and bowl of popcorn, doing his “homework” while casually watching television.   Bruce would come by to switch the distraction box off to his annoyance and launch into yet another lecture, coldly scolding on poor academic performance, only to be cheekily chided back by a mere child.

“You don’t know the first thing about the American justice system, do you?”

“I know it’s bogus.”

“And how did you come to that well-thought-out conclusion?”

“Watching you.”

Tim crossed over to the bookcase, examining the number of framed photos as he hoisted one containing a memory of a beaming young Bruce with his mother and father.  He wiped absently at the glass, taking note there were no similar records of his – or Dick’s – presence, as if all trace evidence of their stay had been erased, save for the mourning memorial cases downstairs.

“You were just a boy when you lost your family.  But you keep trying to create a surrogate family for yourself.  To destroy you, I need only destroy that. Perhaps your… beloved surrogate son.”

Tim recalled the still image – freeze frame – of Freeze’s ray gun being aimed directly at him, the frozen fear he felt at that time (to be caught without costume or cool gadgets to bestow him courage), and Bruce’s big, strong paw moving to draw him defensively behind his broad back.  His shield and shelter.  Savior.

Stephanie crept towards him as he positioned the picture glumly back on the ledge.  She could only imagine what must be going through his head and heart right now, but she could tell he was hurting just by being here.  Determinedly, she took his hand in the heat of hers, comforting cold and shivering skin (despite the mansion’s cozy conditioning), committed to getting him away from this toxic environment.  …If not for good.

“Come on,” she stated as she dragged him towards the grand staircase the other two had taken, guessing they would eventually guide to the entrance.  “Let’s get out of here.”

————————–

And in my dreams, I meet the ghosts Of all the people who have come and gone Memories, they seem to show up so quick But they leave you far too soon Naïve I was just staring at the barrel of a gun

[charlthotte]

Breaking Through The Iron Wall - Aone Takanobu x Reader

Chapter 4

The squeak of trainers stubbing themselves on the gym floor echoed throughout the massive establishment. Around a dozen boys in volleyball uniforms were scattered around the court, spiking and blocking balls with ungodly strength. It was truly mesmerising seeing a spherical piece of foam being smashed around the court at an immense velocity, even when their hands met with the ball - the force didn't phase them one bit. That was truly amazing.

Futakuchi must have noticed myself and Aone entering the gym through the corner of his eye, he immediately dropped the ball he held in his hands. Soon, his annoying smirk regained its composure upon his face. "What is their highness doing here? We are but a simple sports club, after all." That boy seemed to poke bucket loads of fun out of messing with people. Tired of his jests, I folded my arms and sighed, feeling rather ticked off my his words. At that moment, Aone must have sent him a look, as Futakuchi soon came to his senses and asked me a question. A question that was certainly very out of the blue. "So... Your highness, it seems that our team is in need of a manager; seeing as though our last manager - Nametsu - is in Greece because of a foreign exchange program."

"And what am I meant to do about that?" I replied curtly.

"Well, pretty, pretty please could you be our new manager?" He spoke in the voice of a little girl, furiously batting his eyelashes whilst swaying from side to side, with his hands cupping his face.

"I'm sorry but I don't know much about volleyball. Wouldn't someone else be better at the job other than me?" I inquired, seriously confused.

"However, I do see that Aone was the one to bring you here, and you wouldn't want to disappoint him, would you? Futakuchi's face switched from that of a child to his devilish smirk, knowing the right buttons to press in order for me to accept his offer.

"Wouldn't you need the captain's approval first?" I asked, trying to worm my way out of being the manager in any way possible. "Or the coach?"

He snickered, "I see what you're doing. Moniwa! Coach Oiwake! Come here!" He belted across the gym, beckoning his hands towards himself. A boy with choppy, black hair wearing the number 2 and a man with his hair slicked back with a stern disposition made their ways towards Futakuchi. There weren't going to be any chances for escape after that.

The captain seemed as if he didn't want to entertain Futakuchi and what he was going to say. Everyone was probably thinking that too.

"Captain..." Futakuchi cooed, falling into his childlike state again, "Don't you think it'd be great if this person here became our manager, they've already met Aone and myself?"

"Don't ask me leading questions, Futakuchi. It is their choice to join anyway." The captain turned towards me, shooting me a look of compassion. I did need to join a club, but none I had came across interested me. If I did want to join, I would have already known people, which was obviously a bonus. Pondering for a little longer, I wondered what clubs Hiroko and Rea did? Surely they'd be less demanding than being a manager. Futakuchi also wouldn't be a part of their clubs. Seeing his grimace each day, would have surely drained me.

I nodded in appreciation towards the captain. "Thank you. I'm not acquainted with the rules of volleyball, so I don't think I'd be the best fit."

Once again, Futakuchi started to open his mouth, "But Moniwa! There hasn't been a single other applicant for the position, and we could teach them over time." I could tell he wasn't going to give up anytime soon, the thought of that and how draining his consistent begging would be, I began to cave. 

"Maybe you could give me until tomorrow to think about it? I think I'd make the better decision if I think it over properly" However, I knew all too well that no would probably still had been the answer.

"Yeah, that's completely fine. I'm Moniwa Kaname by the way." He held out his hand before me.

"Thanks, (L/N) (F/N)." I then took his hand in mine and shook it, and his grip was certainly more intense than any I had felt before. "Goodbye, I'll see you tomorrow." I swiftly turned around and headed for the outside, wanting to be out of that situation.

And of course, Futakuchi had one more thing to say, "You better say yes, your highness!" Turning around again, my face met his and glared at him, and I ushered him away with a curt wave of my hand. That thing was infuriating. I tried to keep my walking at its fastest pace possible so I wouldn't be in view of the gym anymore. From checking my watch I noticed I had a decent amount of time before my train came, so maybe I'd do a bit more reading when I arrived at the station. 

Walking down, my velocity was set at a mere saunter compared to the jog this morning, the afternoon air hitting my face making me feel somewhat refreshed. My head remained empty for the rest of my stroll, there was no need to think, I was walking down the path solitaire - just admiring whatever new things came into my view. Seeing as though, I didn't really get the chance to that morning. This place was just a completely different world compared to my last hometown. 

After arriving at the station, I set my bag down beside me and fumbled around inside it for my book. I had read quite a large portion of its contents earlier, the new page about the oak-leaved geranium. Giving it to someone would mean that you believe that your friendship with the recipient was true, so true that your bond could never be broken. It could also mean that you believe that your friendship outshines every other one in existence. Once again, I thought how beautiful it was that something so powerful could be expressed with something so delicate, something that could easily die if not taken care of. Maybe that was the whole concept behind the language, if you let the flower die - the meaning of the flower would die with it. I sat in thought for minutes more, contemplating the meaning of things we can and could say.

Not so long into the future, the train pulled up. Sparsely packed and there didn't seem to be anything wrong with the vehicle's integrity, quite a pleasant situation - given the shenanigans of the earlier hours of the day. I plonked my body down onto a seat by myself, gazing out the window, this time my thoughts interrupted by the choice I had to make. 'Should I join? But what if there's a person better fitted to the job and they don't get the chance. After all, their original manager was still joined onto the club, she could still come back. But that meant my job wouldn't last that long." I thought to myself, waffling on and on inside my head - almost panicking in a place where nobody could hear. I just couldn't seem to calm my subconscious down by even one peg. I regret to say that the rest of the journey, my mind stayed locked in the state of internal pandaemonium. 

I hopped off the train, my head still stirring inside of me. I didn't even acknowledge my parents when I came through the door, I simply clambered up the stairs and flopped straight onto my bed, my head drowned into my pillow. Only coming out for air when I realised what I had said to myself earlier. I'd simply ask Hiroko what clubs her and Rea were in. Propping myself upon my headboard, I typed the digits I had been given by Hiroko.

"Hey Hiroko. It's (Y/N), just a quick question. What clubs are you and Rea in?"

-

It barely took her thirty seconds to reply.

-

"Hey!!!!!! I'm with Rea right now! She is in the computing club but she ditches everyday :( I'm in the rowing club but we can't take anymore members. Why'd you ask?

"I've been asked to manage the boys' volleyball team, but I don't really want to."

"OMG!!! That's so cool! Imagine managing a team that's practically famous!"

-

Famous? Why would a public school like Date Tech be famous? I thought that was a little weird, so I questioned Hiroko about it.

-

"Famous?"

"Didn't you know?!?! They're basically famous in Miyagi for their iron wall of blocks!!"

"Oh, that's pretty cool I guess. Sorry for troubling you."

"No problem! See you later!"

-

I thought that it may be cool to manage a 'famous' team, and I wouldn't be the one playing the sport everyday. All I'd have to do was put little things together and keep players like Futakuchi in check. After all, my plan of joining a club with Rea and Hiroko wasn't going to work at all, maybe I'd even get to miss school to go to their matches. I did have to join a club at some point, and there weren't any that caught my attention. Even if I didn't like it - I'd only have to stay until their actual manager got back from Greece.

Didn't Futakuchi say something about disappointing Aone?

"However, I do see that Aone was the one to bring you here, and you wouldn't want to disappoint him would you?"

Did he really mean that? I hadn't even known Aone for 24 hours - wouldn't disappointing him in that way seem strange? But, from what I'd seen Futakuchi do; he was probably just trying to pull my strings for himself. But why was he even trying to do that in the first place? Was he really that desperate for a manager?

I took one deep breath in, attempting to not let the questions drown me again. But other than the grimace, were there really any negatives that came with being their manager? Maybe being their manager would be a good thing to me...

And that's exactly what I was going to do.

[ordinaryschmuck]

Top 20 BEST Animated Series of the 2010s-17th Place

You know, sometimes there’s a show that is so underrated, it is downright criminal. And this next one is a perfect example of why.

#17-Dan Vs. (2011-2013)

The Plot: Dan is an angry, sociopathic, and slightly psychotic little man. In each episode, he goes out to get revenge on something that wronged him while dragging along his reluctant sidekick, Chris. But getting revenge isn’t easy, as they face monsters, fellow psychopaths, and even the state of New Mexico. Will our “hero” get revenge, or will he ever learn that vengeance is not the best solution (Spoiler alert: he doesn’t).

I should start by saying that if you prefer main protagonists who are kind and charming, pack up and find a different show, because trust me when I say that couldn’t be further from what I would describe Dan as. However, I should make it clear that Dan isn’t a bad person-actually that’s too nice-Dan isn’t a terrible person-actually, that’s still too nice-Dan isn’t a supervillain...except for that one time when he became a supervillain. But to be fair, this egotistical superhero crushed Dan’s car without apologizing, and Dan thought that the best way to beat a superhero was to become a supervillain. In fact, now that I think about it, that sentence is the best way to describe Dan.

When Dan goes out to destroy something, he doesn’t do it out of malicious intent (most of the time). Dan fully believes that he has been wronged by something/someone, and he does everything in his power to get back at them. Dan seeks to destroy New Mexico and Canada because things from New Mexico and Canada gave him a bad day. Dan wants to drill a hole in his dentist’s face because he believes that his dentist is an evil supervillain. Dan plans to destroy an animal shelter because the animals keep him up at night (And don’t worry, he doesn’t kill the animals...at least not until he has a quick change of heart). Now at this point, you might find yourselves wondering: “Why should I root for this character?” To that, I say: You shouldn’t. You see, what makes Dan Vs. entertaining isn’t really watching Dan succeed, but rather laugh at his attempts. And he does win every single time he goes against something, but as I said, that’s not why I recommend the show.

The main thing that makes me recommend Dan Vs. is its comedy. This show is up there as one of the funniest animated series that I have seen. Its cynical sense of humor is pretty ballsy, especially when considering that Dan Vs. once shared a run time with My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic (Yes, really). But aside from being cynical, the show also relies on being absurd to get a laugh. Case in point, Dan and Chris once vertically rode a bear up the side of a cliff, and Dan complains about how bored he is. If you don’t find the absurdity of that funny, then this show isn’t for you. And while it’s cynical and absurd with its sense of humor, Dan Vs. manages to have a form of intelligence with its comedy. The best example is the episode “Ye Old Shakespeare Theater,” where the entire episode is chock full of non-stop Shakespeare references. Commitment to a bit like that makes one realize that the writers are a lot smarter with comedy than they might seem. And like most good comedies, it’s the characters that help pull it through.

There are a total of three primary characters in the show. There’s Dan, his sidekick Chris, and Chris’ wife, Elise. Yet, despite having such a short main cast, Dan Vs. makes do with what it has with each of the characters having great chemistry with each other. Dan and Chris have a perfect dynamic where Chris is the reasonable straight man to Dan’s psychotic rage. Trust me when I say that the comedy practically writes itself whenever these two share screen time with each other. Dan and Elise also have a great dynamic as bitter foils, who are always at each other’s throats. While they’re dynamic isn’t as funny compared to Dan and Chris, Dan and Elise still get out a couple of funny moments as characters who are two sides of the same coin. However, it is Chris and Elise's relationship that stands out to me. Their relationship as a married couple is both believable and endearing if you think about it. Elise is an unstoppable government agent that could effortlessly get any guy that she wants. And what she wants is a lovable oaf like Chris. Some traits might get annoying to her (what married couple doesn’t have their problems), but by the end of the day, she still loves him, and Chris absolutely loves her too.

However, while Elise has phenomenal chemistry with Dan and Chris, it’s her own character that causes a problem. Elise isn’t bad, but you know how I briefly mentioned that she’s an unstoppable government agent? Well, trust me when I say that is the worst part of her character. When an episode gives Elise a secret agent b-plot, it comes to a grinding halt as her adventures aren’t as entertaining as Dan’s revenge plot. The thing is that Elise being a secret agent should be funny if she had the personality to contradict the concept. If Elise was written as a sweet and caring person, then it would be hilarious to find out that she can actually kill you with her pinky finger. Instead, she’s a character who's just as angry as Dan, except that she's a lot more skilled. And seeing how it’s funny to watch Dan fumble his way to victory, Elise can’t give the same comedic punch as him. Although I will admit that she does earn an occasional chuckle on her own.

And as bad as Elise is, she isn’t the worst thing about the show. That honor goes to the animation. I’m not kidding when I say that Dan Vs. is the worst looking show on this list. It gets slightly better in later episodes, but that’s only when you compare it with the show itself. Compare it to the shows that I mentioned before it, and you can definitely see why Dan Vs. might not have won over many people. And don’t even get me started on the character designs. The designs range from kind of nice-looking to downright horrifying! And trust me when I say that it looks even worse when these characters are in motion. However, I’m willing to forgive the awful animation because the show doesn’t need to rely on looking good. Because show’s staff plays to their strengths rather than be what other shows are.

Speaking of other shows, by now, you’re probably wondering why I think Dan Vs. is better than something like Star V.S. the Forces of Evil, a show that got a massive following. In all honesty, I can sum up my thoughts in one word: Consistency. Dan Vs. didn’t have outstanding animation that got worse with passing seasons. It started as trash and slightly improved over time (like most cartoons should). Dan Vs. also didn’t start off as a comedy that dived headfirst into drama and story arcs. It is a comedy first and foremost, and it remained so until its unfortunate cancellation. Even the comedy never changed in this show. It started by being cynical and absurd, and it ended as such. I wish I could say the same for Star V.S., but the show seems to have kept changing its identity after each season.

In the end, Dan Vs. was a pretty good show. It may have been a weird show with bad animation and one bad-ish character, but it was still a good show. It had great comedy with characters that had even better chemistry, and because of that, the good heavily outweighs the mad with this underrated classic.

(Did you get how I said mad instead of bad? Funny, right?)

(...)

(Look, there’s not really much material for puns with a show like this. I swear I’ll make it up somehow.)

[artnerd1123]

A Familiar World

Coffee ——————————————

Following the move in, things are still a little tense in the apartment. So Aiden decides to try and get on Journal’s good side. What better way to do so than with coffee?

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

——————————————

At long last, it’s another chapter!!! I’m following the dialogue bits in “warming up,” and this was inspired by the second and third sets there. Gotta get these roomies on track to friendship. I got this finished in 2 days, but it’s been in existence for awhile, so! I’m glad to finally get it out here lskdjfs. Hope y’all enjoy!

                                                    ————

Coffee. Black as pitch, with just a touch of creamer. Not the expensive stuff, mind you. Just what one can get from a certain widely known coffee farm. Rindbell, if a familiar remembered right. And the creamer comes from the same place. Make sure it’s warm and well mixed. Keep it ready for breakfast, noon, and night. Anytime is a good time for this coffee. It’s a comfort, an energy source, and a favorite all wrapped into one. Easy to tell, as it’s what’s filled a skittish sorcerer’s cup for a few weeks now. Enough was gone that he was running dangerously low. The gentle scrape of fingers on the bottom of a can had greeted the apartment consistently for a couple days. And the sorcerer? Well, he wasn’t saying anything. His name might’ve been Journal, but he wasn’t about to be an open book. And he’d already established how he didn’t want his roommate worrying about him at all. “I’m headed to do some apartment shopping,” Aiden had said, a few days earlier. Journal had barely spared him a glance. It was one of the few times Aiden caught the sorcerer out of his room. He’d been making coffee, of course. The questor himself hadn’t touched the coffee maker thus far. It was one of the agreements they’d silently come to. Journal had the coffee machine. Aiden didn’t use it. That was how things were. So far. … And Journal didn’t seem to have picked up Aiden’s hint. He decided to be a little more direct. “... Do you... want anything? While I’m out?” Aiden ventured. Journal had fixed him with a withering look. “I don’t need you buying anything for me,” he replied tersely. Aiden quirked a brow, holding up his hands. “Alright. That’s fine. Just… figured I’d ask.” “... Whatever.” And so he hadn’t gotten anything. But now, with Journal’s stash coming to an end, the situation had changed. The sorcerer was twitchy and out even less. Cleary, he was trying to save what he had left. He didn’t want to ask for more, either. But he needed it. Aiden wasn’t about to let Journal go without it. He didn’t need to know his roommate well to see how big of a deal the drink was. And maybe. Just maybe. He could finally get on his good side.

Aiden was up early. He usually was, but it was especially important today. He had errands to run, and his roommate wasn’t one who liked to sleep in. Pulling his cloak around his shoulders, he cast a look around the living room. It was barely deserving of its name. The curtains were drawn, barely letting the sun’s first rays inside. The bookshelf was half full. All the novels that remained were shelved neatly. A news scroll was the only thing on the coffee table. One of the armchairs remained utterly untouched. If he hadn’t been sitting on the couch reading last night, he would’ve sworn the place was still waiting for its tenants. It was… discouraging. But he wasn’t going to give up. Not yet, anyways. “You ready to go, Roo?” the questor called quietly. There was an answering meow from the hall. The indigo cat familiar came into sight a moment later. Rubbing at his eyes, Roo yawned loudly. His patched cloak hung loosely around his neck, and his tail dragged against the ground. It was leaving a little paint trail as he made his way to his originator’s side. He sort of just… stood there. Blinking sleepily. “... mnnh… yeah,” Roo mumbled. “... les… lesgo…” Aiden chuckled softly. The familiar was always droopy in the mornings. “C’mere, roodle doodle,” he said gently, taking his paw. “We won’t be out long.” “Wha’eveh yeh say, dad…” Aiden let Roo out first before locking the door behind them. He had no doubt that his roommate would be fine if he didn’t, but the younger sorcerer preferred a locked door. Hopefully that would change sometime. I’d love having visitors over someday. For now, though, they were off to the store. Down the steps and out the front doors they went. Roo woke up more once they were outside. His tail twitched anxiously, and his ears pressed back against his head. He was walking as close to Aiden as he could manage. Aiden gave him a few reassuring pats. The kitty’s nerves were nothing new. The area was still unfamiliar, after all. “Not far to the store,” he hummed. “And we’re only picking up a few things.” “... ‘s theah gonna b-be… um… a l-lotta people…?” Roo whispered, eyes flicking from place to place. “Probably not. We’re up early enough to miss most people, but late enough for stores to be open,” Aiden explained. “... mnn… okay…” Roo took a couple shaky breaths. The tension slowly eased from his shoulders. “... okay. W-we got this.” “That’s the spirit bud…”

Shopping indeed went quickly. It took a little to find Journal’s preferred coffee, but Roo’s excellent memory had come in handy. Nothing like a detail oriented familiar to remember exactly what labels look like. Aiden also snagged a couple other things while they were out. Biscuits, for roo, and some veggies, for dinner that night. But that was neither here nor there. The purchase that mattered was the coffee. And what mattered now was getting home on time…

The originator and familiar found themselves on their doorstep once again. Aiden fumbled around in his belt pack for the key, grumbling under his breath. He still wasn’t used to keeping track of such things. At least he could manage holding a grocery bag and biscuit box in one arm. “Did yeh drop it?” Roo asked, brows furrowed as he shifted a bag of coffee and carrots in his arms. “I-I don’ see it on the floor out heah…” “No no, I’m sure I have it,” Aiden sighed, checking his cloak pocket. “I distinctly remember putting it away. What a time to remember my organization skills are lacking- ah!” His fingers closed around the small bit of metal, drawing it out. He gave Roo a wink as he stuck it in the lock. “Good thing my memory’s not as cluttered as everything else, eh?” The comment drew a giggle from the paint cat. Aiden nudged open the door, and Roo went scampering inside. Though Aiden held his breath going in, a relieved sigh was the only thing that came out. He could hear some noise from down the hall, but that was alright. The living room was empty, as was the kitchen, from what he could see. Aside from Roo and himself, that is. Good. They’d made it in time. “Take the coffee to the kitchen, bud,” he called softly, throwing his cloak onto the rack.  “Already on it!” Roo chirped. He quickly skittered into the kitchen, his originator right behind him. Aiden busied himself putting away the other groceries as Roo climbed cabinets for the coffee container. He made sure to keep an eye on the kitty, though. All he had to do was dump the bag into the tin. But still. Roo was small. And the cabinets were high up. Plenty of opportunity for things to fall on him- or the kitty himself to fall. The sound of coffee beans gently clinking against metal rang out soon enough. From Roo’s little “mrrp!” it was louder than he’d expected. And… did it mask the noises in the hall? Or had they stopped? Aiden snuck a glance out the kitchen doorway as the beans’ clinking slowed to a stop. For a moment- just a moment- he thought he saw someone looking out from the hall. But his glance was over in an instant, and he’d nearly dropped a bag of celery. The questor sighed to himself as he got it set back in the cold cabinet. Hopefully what he saw meant their roommate would join them for breakfast. Turning back to the kitchen, he saw Roo half hanging out of another cabinet. The sight made him snort. Whatever he was digging for, he had several boxes on the verge of tipping onto the floor. He crossed the room quickly. “What’re you up to over there, bud?” Aiden chuckled, lifting him out. “I’m gettin breakfast!” Roo mewed indignantly. He crossed his arms, pouting as he hung in Aiden’s grasp. “I’m gonna have some’a the marshmella cereal!” “You sure you need sugar first thing in the morning?” Aiden asked, one brow raised. “Oh, c’mon! It’s not like I’m askin fer catnip!” Roo huffed. “Mmh… Fair enough,” Aiden nodded. He set him down gently, chuckling as Roo beamed. “Go have a seat. I’ll get it. You nearly knocked everything out of here just trying to get the box.” “Yeah, well, there’s no stools on the counter.” “Also fair.” Aiden shook out some cereal and marshmallows into one bowl for roo, and some cornflakes into another for himself. A snap or two left a milk bottle in his hand, and he poured some milk into the two bowls. He stuck a spoon in each before turning around again. It was when he carried them to the table, though, that he noticed someone standing in the kitchen doorway. Journal. He didn’t look any different than usual. Dark clothes, bright leggings, carefully smoothed and dutifully styled hair, pulled back in a ponytail. Though he still managed to look somewhat disheveled. It was probably the raccoon’s mask of sleeplessness on his face. The sorcerer seemed to hover where he was, uncertain about coming in. With the way his eyes flicked from the originator and familiar to the rest of the room, Aiden could tell he was still nervous. That was fine. He just gave him a gentle, warm smile, as he always did.  “Good morning Journal,” he hummed, setting the bowls on the table. Roo gave a quiet thank you before waving at Journal. “N-nice to see yeh again...” Roo said softly. “... yeah. ‘Morning...” Journal mumbled. “... you too…” There was a beat of silence as they all looked at each other. Then the two turned to their cereal as their nervous roommate crossed the room. They’d give him his space. And if he didn’t feel like talking more, that was ok. Didn’t make the silence any less awkward, but still. Aiden couldn’t help but sneak a glance or two at Journal as he reached for his coffee container. Taking it down, the younger sorcerer fumbled with it. A look of surprise flitted across his face. Seems he hadn’t been expecting the weight. He set it down carefully, his surprise turning to bafflement once he took the lid off. It was filled to the top with coffee beans. Across the table, Roo was hiding a smile. Aiden hid one of his own. He’d wait for Journal to say something, though. Sure enough, he spoke up. “... did… did you… get me more coffee?” Journal asked hesitantly. “Hm? Oh, yes.” Aiden looked up before nodding. “I grabbed some while Roo and I were out this morning.” “... huh…” Journal eyed the coffee beans for a moment. Reaching in, he pulled out the freshly emptied bag. It brought a whole new layer of delighted confusion to his gaze. “Wh- how- how’d you know what brand of coffee I like???” “You drink enough that I figured you’d like black,” Aiden shrugged. “... that, and Roo saw the label. He helped me pick the right brand.” Roo chuckled timidly when Journal looked at him. Journal blinked, silent for a moment. “... oh. Well. Uh. Thanks,” he said haltingly. “No problem,” Aiden smiled. Journal gave him a small smile in return as he went back to his coffee making. The silence that followed was different than earlier. This was less tense. More… companionable. Just the quiet sounds of morning breakfast time with three roommates. It was… nice. For the first time, all three of them could admit to that.

When Journal finally had his coffee in a mug, Aiden and Roo were finishing up their cereal. “Good coffee?” Aiden inquired. Journal gave a small nod. “Good,” Aiden smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” “W… will we see yeh again today…?” Roo piped up. He fidgeted with his paws, looking shyly hopeful. “Besides when you come for more coffee, that is,” Aiden joked gently. Journal was silent for a bit. Considering. He swirled his drink as he looked between the two. Eventually he shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee. “Maybe,” he said. “Maybe.” Heaving a sigh, he started off towards the hall. “Depends how much work I get done today.” “F-faieh enough,” Roo sighed. “I-I hope that goes well…” “I’ll second that,” Aiden nodded. “Again, it was nice to see you, Journal.” Journal looked over his shoulder one last time as he stood before the hallway. “... yeah. You… you too,” he replied. “... thanks again.” “Not a problem, Journal.”

As Journal headed down the hall, Aiden and roo were still smiling. They’d done good this time. And, with some luck, AIden thought, I’ll get Journal out and about yet. For now… they had coffee. That was as good a start as any.

[shawn-mendes-post]

Aftermath

A/N: Chapter 2 of Just Friends. I don’t own anything. 

VMAs Recap: (Y/N) is not a little girl; she is a woman with many males wanting her. 

This year there were many good performances. However, (Y/N) took the show and left us wanting more.  If you do not know who she is, then let me brief you. 

She was born in Toronto, Canada, in 1997.  She comes from a line of prestige doctors.  It came out a surprise when she would not follow the same path as all her members in the family.  She would follow her best friend, Shawn Mendes, on tour.  Things would heat up with their friendship as people began to speculate romance was blooming. However,  it came to a stop when Shawn and Camila were spotted kissing. 

Their friendship is unknown because the two are no longer spotted together. (Y/N) was busy filming in a tv show and writing songs while Shawn was doing a collab with Camila. 

Next, we hear about (Y/N) is her new single Hands to Myself.  Fans went wild and could not believe sweet (Y/N) could be so....sexy.  She would perform the song at the VMAs. 

She gave Shawn a run of his money with an alluring performance. She wore a seductive dress that showed off her curves.  Hair curled down her shoulders, perfectly framing her heart-shaped face. She even had a male dancer dance with her. The dancer was all over her, and she was all over him.  The two were both joined by another male dancer, and the performance was Hot. Hot. HOT.  

Overall, it was an outstanding performance, and I cant wait to see what she does next. Watch out for my next article about the timeline of Shawn's and (Y/N)'s relationship. 

***

(Y/N) stared at the article, rolling her eyes at how they had to mention Shawn. "Why must people keep focusing on our friendship. I don't even know what goes on in his life anymore," she complains, flipping the french toast.  

Her agent sent the article after the VMAs. He wanted to let her know how everyone loved her performance. He also wanted to check up on her since she has a movie shoot soon. 

(Y/N) finished making her breakfast before she sat down to eat.

 Her plate consisted of fluffy, warm, french toast with glazed strawberries, topped with powdered sugar giving off a heavenly look.

 A side of bacon and eggs with a soft biscuit landed on another plate. Her stomach grumbles before she digs in, not having anything since yesterday. 

Agent 

Don't forget to go to the shooting of the movie.  Also, you have an interview tonight.

Groaning, she gets up and gets ready for the day. 

***

Shawn was hungover because he could not get his mind off of (Y/N). After seeing her at the VMAs, it brought back memories of the two. 

"Shawn!" A 4-year-old (Y/N) yelled, running towards him in her Halloween costume. He lets out an "oof," as she wraps her arms around him. He laughs, patting her back, hoping she would let him go. 

She lets go, glancing at his costume and lets out a squeal. " My prince Eric," she said, dreamily. He rolls his eyes, not understanding why she even had a crush on a cartoon character.  "Yeah, yeah," grumbles, blushing as he sees her Ariel costume.  She was wearing the pink ball gown that he mentioned he liked. 

"Ready?" He asked, holding out his arm for her to take. Nodding, she wraps her arm around his, following their parents out the door. They spent a couple of hours of trick or treating and having fun with each other. 

After, they went to Shawn's house, having a little party. The kids were sent to Shawn's room. Shawn dumped all his candy on the floor and (Y/N) did the same thing, giggling as she sees all the different types of candy. 

The two would swap candies and munch on them, watching a movie on his bed. Time passes, and the parents come in to see (Y/N) head-on Shawn's chest and his arms wrapped around her waist. Both were peacefully sleeping, and the parents took a picture of the two. 

***

Shawn stared at (Y/N) with lovely eyes, finding her the perfect girl. " I will marry you, " the 7- year-old told her. She laughs and shakes her head, " oh Shawnny, we are too young. Maybe when we turn 20. Hopefully, I will be on my way to becoming a doctor, and you are on your way as a famous actor."

Shawn shakes his head, not liking the wait, "let's get married today," making her eyes widened. A chock caught their attention as they see Shawn's parents. Both of them were frozen, not knowing what to say. 

(Y/N) tilts her head, thinking about what Shawn said, and then nodded her head rapidly. " Okay, Can we?" She turns to Shawn's parents making them snap out of their state, looking at both of the kid's pleading face, debating on what to say to the two hopeful kids, before nodding their heads. 

***

The next day the two kids were in the backyard. (Y/N) was wearing a white gown that went to her ankles. Shawn was wearing a tux that made him uncomfortable. 

The two were not able to see each other, and that made it difficult for things to get done. The two would sneak away to meet up with each other, and just spend time together. The parents would have to find the kids and separate them. 

Later, (Y/N) was walking towards Shawn, smiling excitedly. Shawn was glad he was marrying his best friend. Their eyes connect, and both of them could not look away.  It was time for them to exchanged vows. 

"Shawn, you are my best friend and will be forever. I would follow you to the moon and back. I promise I will always be there for you, Shawn. "

"(Y/N) you are amazing.  I want to stay by your side no matter what. I can not see my life without you. I will be your best friend forever."

Then Shawn places a Ring Pop on her ring finger, remembering what his father said.  Then (Y/N) did the same to him before she leans and kisses his cheek, blushing as she pulls away. The parents cheer as pictures, and a video was taken of the two. 

***

Shawn stared at himself in the mirror with tired, dry, and red eyes. His hair was a mess, and that was unusual for him. He knew he should try and talk to her, but after the last encounter, he thought it was best to leave her alone.

But he missed her. He missed her so much that he couldn't even stop his tears when he thinks about her. The smell of her hair because she uses a specific type of shampoo.  The way her eyes lit up when she would see him. A smile always on her lips or the way she giggles at everything he says. "I miss her," he mumbles, placing a hand on the mirror. 

A 15- year-old Shawn was sitting on the couch, running his hand through his hair. He was waiting for (Y/N) and her family to come over for Chrismas, the yearly routine. 

He was clutching the gift he wrapped poorly in his hands, wondering if she will like her gift. 

He spent countless months saving up for her gift because he wanted to make things perfect for her. 

He knew he was busy after he signed the record deal, but he wanted to be there for (Y/N). 

Knock. Knock.

Fumbling, he stands up, cheeks flared, as he hears his family chucking. Opening the door, he was left breathless when his eyes meet hers. 

She was standing in front with a big gift in her hands, perfectly wrapped with a big bow resting on the top. 

"Hi," she said, softly blushing when she saw how handsome he looked. "Hi," he replied, grinning stupidly, not noticing her family.

"Ugh, get a room," her little brother said, disgusted at how they were acting, making the two tomato red in the face as they cough awkwardly. 

Everyone enters the living room, but Shawn takes (Y/N) to his room. 

The two teens sat on Shawn's bed, five feet apart, glancing away from each other. There was a pregnant silence since the teens did not know what to say. "I got-" the two started, but stopped when they realize the other was talking. 

" I got you a gift," she mumbled, shyly giving him the gift in her hands. He carefully unwraps the gift. He opened the box to see different items in there. He took out a pair of fluffy, slippers.  " You need a pair when you go on tour. "

Smiling, he gets the next item, which was wrapped chocolate chip cookies. " I know you love my baking. "

The next item was a jar with notes. Some envelopes read "open when..." making him curious about what they say. 

There were pictures of the two for him to keep when he goes on tour and to have something to remember her since she wouldn't be with him because she was going to study to become a doctor. 

"It's wonderful,"  he kisses her cheek. " I got you something too," he said, giving her the gift. 

She unwraps it, slowly opening the box before she lets out a gasp.  An elegant, silver locket with a vintage moonstone stone set in the center,  framed Victorian floral in an antiqued silver color, laid in the small little box. 

" I can't take this," she says breathlessly, shaking her head. She tried to push the box to him, but he shakes his head. 

" I want you to have it. You mean the world to me (Y/N) and want you to know," he whispers, opening the locket to show a tiny picture of the two smiling. (Y/N) stares into his eyes, tears sliding down her face, slowly leaning closer to Shawn's face. 

Their lips touch in a light kiss, making both of them nervous. 

He places a hand on her waist, brings her closer to him, the other hand on her neck, tilting her head more. (Y/N) has one hand on his thigh as the other is running through his curls, whimpering at his touch. 

Her hand on his thigh rises up and down till becoming dangerously close to his crotch. Shawn's breath gets heavier, heart beating rapidly, blood rushing through his ears, making him pull away from (Y/N). The two were a blushing mess as they breathed heavier than normal. 

"Wow," she said after a while of silence. Shawn chuckles before running his fingers through her hair. " Your right, wow." 

He wanted to kiss her again, and he would if she didn't pull away from him. "We shouldn't have done that," she said, getting up and looking at him fearfully. " Why not?" He asked because it hurt him that she regretted it. 

" I don't want to ruin our friendship, Shawn. We can't be together because you are becoming famous and I'm just me. You are just going to leave me for someone prettier and richer than me. We should stay friends because of the uncertainty of life," she explained, not wanting to but knowing her family would disapprove of them being together. 'You must focus on becoming a doctor,' her mom told her. 'I know we thought it was cute when you were little, but you're not anymore,' her father said about her crush on Shawn. 

Shawn sat motionless, countless thoughts running through hid head before he nods his head. "I understand (Y/N). However, I want you to know I would never leave you for another girl. You are the bewitching girl in the world. It was a heat of the moment," he lied through his teeth. 

"SHAWN! (Y/N)!" Women voiced was heard through the walls. The two teens rushed towards the living room to join everyone else. 

***

Shawn sighs, tired of his confusing feelings. He loves Camila, and she makes him feel alive. But she wasn't (Y/N). He couldn't just mope anymore. He had things to do. He had songs to write. 

***

(Y/N) was off the stage, running her fingers down her off the tight shoulder dress. 

She didn't want to wear something that would bring too much attention.

She was currently a guest on Jimmy Fallon's show to help with the True Confession between John Mulaney and Pete Davidson, two of her favorite comedians. 

" First we are going to need another player, we found a great one you know from Stranger Things, American Horror Story and Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, she is also a singer you know well (Y/N) (L/N)!'

(Y/N), gets in motion, she spins, across the stage coming to a stop, and pose.  

She laughs, the audience hollers, at what she did, " coming in hot!" 

Pete was clapping as he watches her impress everyone. His eyes trailed down to see what she was wearing, and he silently admitted she was stunning. 

" Here is how it works. In front of us are two envelopes with confessions. One confession is true, and the other is a lie. Once you read your confession, the other players have 60 seconds to interrogate you, and they have to guess if you are lying or telling the truth." 

(Y/N) nods, grabbing the coffee cup, take a sip, holding back a gag at the taste. " Don't drink that. It's a prop," Jimmy said, shaking his head, trying to reframe from laughing. 

" I had them place coffee in the cup, but I don't like this coffee," she mumbled, making a silent reminder to go to Starbucks after this. 

" John, you go first. Pete, what envelope should John open." 

Pete nods as he points to his envelope and then to John's. " Mine or his?" He asked, laughing. 

" His," Jimmy and (Y/N) said in sync.

" Oh, number two," Pete chuckled out. 

" This could be a lie or the truth. We don't know."

John picks up the envelope, "alright." He then opens the envelope, wondering what is going on. "Are we doing this correctly?" 

" Is this mine or his?" Pete asked, curiously. 

" His," (Y/N) mutters, stares at John, she had an idea of John's, tell when he lies.  

" Who am I talking about? You?" John asked, looking at Jimmy. The audience laughs at how they are questioning the game.

 " You talking about you. " 

" Do you get it?" 

" I should read the email." Everyone laughs as Pete covers his mouth.

John clears his throat before speaking, " my neighbor was arrested by the FBI for being a cannibal. "  

" What?" A few scattered laughs were heard. (Y/N) smiles already knew the answer. 

" What year was this?" 

" 2013," John said, sipping on the drink. 

" So cannibalism illegal at this point. " 

" So wait… is this L.A?"

" New York." 

Jimmy and Pete looked at each other and come to the same conclusion. 

"The FBI got involved, but how did you know?  They asked you questions?" Jimmy asked, needing more information. 

" Uh, when the FBI were swarming our lobby and arrested the guy at 6:00 am a raid. 

" Was there any clue he was suspicious or anything?"

" No, he never said to me in the elevator, "Guess what? I might be a cannibal."  (Y/N) watches the interaction between the three, laughing at them. The buzzer rings, and it was time to guess. 

" I say no cause if it was in L.A, I would believe it. "

" I'm going to say its false. "

They turn to (Y/N), and she smiles innocently. " I am going to say it is true." 

" It's true." 

"What! No!"

John then explains the story to everyone. 

It is Jimmy's turn, and he opens up the envelope, silently reading to himself.

" You sure? Two is pretty good." "I like one."

" I once went for a beer with a musician and woke up in a hotel in Nashville.

"Where did the evening start?" "New York."

" Yes. It's true. " Everyone laughs at Pete's declaration. John and (Y/N) agree with Pete, nodding their heads. They begin to ask uninterested questions to fill in the time. The buzzer goes off, and all three said it was true.

" Pete, it is your turn, and (Y/N) will be picking the envelope. " " I pick one."

" Lorne Michaels and I went to Jamaica together on a vacation for New Years," Pete said, trying to not laugh. "

John made a face, not believing what Pete said. "I want that to be a lie. " The three would spend the rest of the time asking Pete questions.

"I want it to be true, but I'm saying no. " " Not true." (Y/N) stares into Pete's eyes, making him laugh. " It is true," she said. " It's true," Pete admitted.

" I am terrible at this game," Jimmy said, getting up from his seat. (Y/N) had her head held high, smirking when she knew how good she was?

" Now, it is (Y/N)'s turn.  I pick two. "

(Y/N) nods, picking up the envelope, trying to remember what it said. She reads it silently before going deathly pale. She forgot she wrote this, but knew she could not change it now.

" I once had a wedding and got married to Shawn Mendes," she told them, silently wishing she was somewhere else. Screams could be heard in the audience, and that made (Y/N) more nervous.

"How old were you?"

" I was six. "

" Where was it?"

" Umm, I think in the backyard of Shawn's home."

" Did you have a real wedding?"

" Not really, we were pretending that we were getting married. I mean, we were only kids back then. "

" Were your families happy?"

" I think so. I knew Shawn's parents were, but mine, I don't know.

The buzzer went off, and it was time for them to guess. " I am going to say no," Jimmy said, staring at her to figure something out. " I think it is true," John and Pete said.

" It's true," she mumbled, cheeks flushing as the crowd hollers. " WHAT!"

" I was six, and he was seven.  We saw a movie about two people getting married and spending the rest of their lives together. He wanted to marry me, and we came up with a kid's wedding. Our parents planned it out for us. There is a video of the whole thing. I'm pretty sure its somewhere in our family things.

" Our thanks to John Mulaney, Pete Davidson, and (Y/N) (L/N)!"

(Y/N) waves before getting up with Pete. She was being interviewed after John, so she was going to wait in the dressing room.