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emeren · 4 years

Text

speed racer- eren jaeger

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 6k

content warnings: nsfw, smut, 18+, smoking, degradation, overstimulation, breeding (w/o baby talk)

notes: 100% inspired by the official art, like mmm yes please. also i know absolutely nothing about how car racing works, but that’s not important. this is unedited because my brain turned to mush writing it. enjoy!! <3

SUMMARY: eren’s a semi-professional car racer, who has a tumultuous friendship with the reader. after losing a race, eren sets out to win something else in his life, much to the reader’s surprise.

“took you long enough!” sasha called out, holding her hand above her eyes in an attempt to block out the bright sun. you dished her a smile, weaving your way through the throngs of people in the stands, attempting not to step on anyone. your eyes briefly flitted to the track, the assistants distantly getting their cars ready. they were hardly visible from here; merely faceless figures idling around. you heaved out a sigh as you reached sasha, the brunette gingerly patting the spot next to her.

“you couldn’t have gotten better seats, sash?” you asked as you sat down, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head. sasha waved her large bag of popcorn in front of your face, an exasperated expression on her features.

“the line was long, and what’s a race without popcorn?” she grinned, offering you the bag. you rolled your eyes but took a fistful of the bright yellow snack nonetheless. “plus, if you really wanted that good of seats, you would’ve come early yourself.”

“i did come here early,” you retorted, your voice muffled by the popcorn. sasha raised a questioning brow, her elbow nudging you in the side.

“getting here early just so you can poke around the racer’s quarters is not the same thing,” she singsonged, a girlish smirk on her face. you scoffed, turning away from her as you felt heat race to your cheeks. “c’mon, everyone knows you and eren are totally into each other. i don’t understand why you guys don’t just go for it.”

“i wasn’t poking around, and i am not into eren,” you said, shifting uncomfortably as the words left your mouth. it was true, to some degree. the two of you had been friends in high school, back when eren was just some skinny kid with anger issues. now he was a semi-professional racer, and the rivalry between the two of you was palpable, to say the least.

you’d been in the same friend group and for some reason eren just loved to pick on you whenever he got the chance. you suspected it had something to do with his repressed daddy issues or whatever, and he’d known mikasa and armin far too long to be so catty with them. initially they were just playful taunts, but as you got older, they started to become more personal. with age came your own unchecked need to banter and argue with him.

somewhere along the way the arguments turned to sexual tension. a sexual tension that for the most part, the two of you were happy to ignore. it allowed room for a more sassy friendship, at least.

“uh huh, suuure,” sasha responded, seemingly unconvinced. she must’ve sensed your discomfort, deciding to change the topic. “who’s who?”

your eyes traced the track, analyzing each vehicle. “armin’s in yellow, mikasa’s in red, eren’s in white, and i believe levi is in green.”

“levi’s racing? isn’t he getting a little old for that?” sasha laughed, squinting. you chuckled.

“it’s just a small fundraiser race, plus he’s a crowd favorite over here,” you explained. sasha nodded as she processed the information. the sun was hot, beating down on your back. “i’m honestly surprised this many people came out.”

sasha tossed more popcorn in her mouth, halfway done with the bag despite the race still not having started. she offered it to you again. “mhm, this is the same type of crowd that we’d see in the underground.”

you thought back to your days of attending the illegal races, late at night and under the cover of darkness. though you were just a junior in college, it felt like those nights freshman year had been decades ago. that was before eren showed real promise in the professional circuit. it was also where levi scouted him out to be his successor.

as if on cue, you could see the figures of the racers emerging from the port, each headed for their respective cars. you couldn’t help the way your gaze immediately followed the tall, brown haired racer adorned in his white racing jacket, checkers on the side. the crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of the all the racers, one from each color of the rainbow. eren walked with a certain confidence, his adamant determination being one of the only things that followed him from high school.

though you couldn’t clearly see his face from where you sat, you knew he was smiling. eren had always loved the adrenaline rush before a race.

“alright ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to the annual shiganshina fundraiser race!” the reporter boomed over the intercom. sasha squealed in her seat, excitedly gripping your arm and pointing towards your friends. you felt a mix of excited nervousness waft over you, giggling along with her. “today we’ve got racers from all over the circuit, and each one has volunteered their precious time for the cause. can we get a round of applause?”

the crowd erupted in yet another ear deafening round of applause as the announcer read off the names of each of the racers. you and sasha made sure to scream your loudest when armin, mikasa, and eren’s names were read off.

you hoped they knew it was you, your throat scratchy as you sat back down. there was no need to be loud for levi; the entire crowd went absolutely feral at the mention of his name.

the announcer read off the conditions of the race, as well as the reasoning for the fundraiser itself. you and sasha chatted quietly about the after party while the racers put their helmets on and got in their cars. before too long, the announcer was gearing up for the start.

“alright everyone, we’re about to start. get yourselves ready.”

you and sasha stood, hollering and cheering for your friends as the cars all lined up. you knew you’d be happy if any of them crossed the finish line first, but it was undeniable that it would be eren. it wasn’t armin or mikasa’s passion like it was eren’s; they viewed it more as as fun hobby. nevertheless, you dreaded how smug eren would be once he added another win to his already growing list. he really was a bastard sometimes.

“racers ready your cars. 3... 2... 1... go!”

they were off, levi’s green car easily settling into first place, cruising past the other cars as he whipped around the first curve. you held your breath, eyes scanning the other cars placements. eren was in fourth, armin in fifth, and mikasa in second. sasha yelled sporadically, reaching out and squeezing your wrist tightly.

as they rounded the circuit for the second time, eren passed the third place racer, coming up behind mikasa’s red car. you held your breath. “c’mon eren...”

“shit! he passed her!” sasha screeched, jumping up and down. you smiled as he whipped the corner, nearly cutting the edge of the median.

“levi is still so far ahead,” you commented, trying to pry sasha’s death grip from your wrist. your eyes glanced to the clock, realizing that the race was near its finish. levi was cutting the third corner and eren was quickly gaining on him.

“looks like it’s gonna be clo-” sasha’s voice was cut off as a large man tripped over the bleacher behind you, effectively shoving you into her side. “shit, the popcorn!”

you regained your balance, giving the man behind you a dirty glare as you turned to sasha. she frowned at the popcorn that’d been spilled all over the ground. “what a waste!”

looking back up at the track, the crowd broke into screams of excitement. you expected to see eren’s face on the big screen to the side as confetti streamed through the air, but were surprised to see levi’s unimpressed stare.

eren lost?

“you’ve gotta be shitting me,” sasha gaped, her face slack in shock. you shrugged, shaking the feeling of disappointment from your shoulders. serves him right.

people started to vacate the stands, shoving their way past you as you turned to sasha. “let’s go find connie and jean, sash.”

she nodded, still frowning. the two of you climbed down the steps, going against the flow of the crowd as you weaseled your way down onto the spectators path. you could see all of the racers shaking hands, congratulating each other. your mind briefly considered whether or not eren was going to be upset, but you decided not to dwell on it.

you watched as the racers disappeared into the tunnel, eren’s tall figure no longer in view. just then, connie and jean came walking out from the service booth, both wearing their maintenance coveralls.

sasha wildly waved her arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the remaining stragglers towards your friends.

“hey guys!” she smiled, the boys jogging to meet you halfway.

“why were you guys in such shit seats?” connie asked, skipping over a greeting. you let out a small laugh at sasha’s expense. she merely shrugged, turning to jean.

“we going to your place?” you questioned before she had the chance. jean nodded, adjusting the backwards baseball cap on his head.

“yeah, just gotta wrap some things up, then we can head out,” he replied. you grew happy at the thought of kicking back with your friends, enjoying a nice night of fun. parties at jean and connie’s place were always the best.

***************

“some race that was,” connie groaned, leaning back and bringing the beer bottle to his lips. so far it was just you, sasha, connie, jean, and a bunch of random drunk people who’d come from the track. sasha scoffed from her spot on the worn, brown couch.

“you could say that again,” she grumbled. “we didn’t even get to see levi cross the finish line ‘cause some guy rammed into us.”

jean looked at you from where he leaned against the wall, a bottle in his hand and his eyebrows raised. “wait, for real?”

“yeah,” you sighed, drinking whatever bitter liquid sasha had poured into your red solo cup. “didn’t even say sorry.”

“how many times do i have to tell you guys, just come work maintenance with jean-boy and i,” connie suggested, wrapping his arm around sasha’s shoulder and giving a squeeze. she rolled her eyes and shoved him off. “you guys would get to watch the race from the track itself.”

“i don’t know the first thing about cars,” sasha laughed, you nodding along with her.

“and you think we do? i just said that so we could get the best seats in the house,” connie snorted, taking another swig of his drink. you chuckled at his idiocy, unfazed by yet another one of their stupid stunts. “where’re the big racers anyway?”

“they should be here soon,” you responded, glancing out the window. jean was unironically blasting the fast and the furious soundtrack, something he’d done after every race for as long as you’d known him. by now the songs were ingrained in your brain.

“who wants to bet jaeger is in a pissy mood?” jean snorted as he moved to sit down on the arm of the chair you were planted in.

“when isn’t he?” you sneered. connie and sasha hummed in agreement. both you and jean loved nothing more than to push eren’s buttons. you knew jean’s motives stemmed from some boyish fun, whereas yours felt a little more personal.

the sound of clapping began to compete with the music, your neck craning to look past jean into the hallway. eren, armin, and mikasa came into view, people cheering them on and patting them on the back. they each wore their racing jackets over their street clothes.

you felt a familiar sensation burn in your stomach at the sight of eren. his dark hair was pulled back per usual, wispies framing his tan face. The white jacket stood out against his black t-shirt and black jeans; key necklace he always wore glinting against his chest. as your gaze travelled up from his body, you were startled to make contact with his teal eyes. you quickly glanced away in embarrassment.

“well, well, well,” jean cheered, raising his bottle to the trio. “how’d it feel to lose to a short, old man, eh jaeger?”

eren scowled, obviously peeved. “if i had to lose to anyone, i’m glad it was levi.”

connie snorted at that. “man, professional circuit has you soft.”

“whatever you say, baldie,” eren smirked mischievously as he came to sit down on the couch. connie defensively rubbed his head. “at least i’m making money in prof.”

“i still can’t believe you have people that actually want to sponsor you,” you snipped, a playful expression on your face. eren lazily looked towards you, the familiar irritation laced in his eyes.

“i’m sorry, what was that? i wasn’t listening to you,” eren retorted, looking as unbothered as ever. you glared at his words, but caught armin’s disapproving eye and decided to stay quiet.

as the night carried on, you watched your friends relax and reminisce about previous races and the days spent in the illegal ring. it seemed crazy that your life was so centered around car races, when you weren’t even a racer yourself. but you supposed you were just happy to be supporting your friends.

at some point you got up out of your chair to refill your cup. the large hoards of people had started to dance; the house feeling hot and humid as you shoved your way to the kitchen. luckily the room was empty, save for armin who was drinking water out of the kitchen tap.

“thirsty?” you asked, amused. his head snapped up, surprised by your voice. it took one look to tell he was absolutely trashed, face red and eyes half lidded. he smiled goofily and nodded his head before stumbling back out into the crowd of people.

you quickly filled your cup, following the direction armin had gone. as you stepped out of the kitchen, a body came out of nowhere and smacked into you.

eren jumped back, trying to avoid the liquid that sloshed out of your cup. “hey, watch it!” he hissed.

“you watch it, casanova,” you snapped, irritated by the sticky alcohol that dripped down your hand. eren’s eyes narrowed at the nickname, his arms defensively crossing his chest.

“i told you not to call me that,” he bit back, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. you rolled your eyes, instinctively bringing your hand to your mouth in an attempt to lick the drink off. eren watched you, his gaze clouded with an indiscernible emotion. you knew what you were doing.

“hm. too bad,” you quipped, dragging your tongue down the side of your hand, popping your pointer finger in your mouth. eren glowered at you as you let out a giggle. “see ya, loser.”

“whatever, brat,” he huffed, shaking the tension from his pants as you sauntered off into the crowd. he hated the effect you had on him.

you’d already decided not to get shit faced. while the rest of your friends had chosen otherwise, you danced alongside them, your resolve wearing thin much faster than theirs. jean and sasha bounced happily up and down, screaming the lyrics to whatever song it was blasting from the speakers. connie and mikasa were playing beer pong, and you had no clue where armin and eren had gone.

you heaved in a breath as a sharp pain shot through your side, signaling the end of your dancing career for the night. your two dance partners were too far gone to notice, waving goodbye to you as you stepped out of the sweaty crowd.

slipping your phone out of your pocket, your eyes nearly popped from your head at the time. two thirty?!

only slightly tipsy, you decided to find jean’s room and call it a night. he’d just have to sleep on the couch. with one hand dragging on the wall, you made your way through the house, past armin who was doing body shots with a couple of strangers, up the stairs and down the dark hall. it was quieter up here, but you could still hear the music and knew it’d be awhile till sleep visited you.

shoving jean’s door open, you were surprised to see none other than eren laid back on the bed, puffs of smoke coming from his mouth. the strong scent of weed hit your nostrils, nose scrunching up in reflex. he propped himself up on one arm upon your entrance, eyeing you.

“oh, sorry i’ll just- wait a minute,” you paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “you aren’t supposed to be smoking on your sponsorship.”

eren let out a loud laugh at that, more smoke spilling from his lungs. “thanks, mom. i know.”

you stood in the doorway, not really sure what to do. “jean’s gonna be mad if his room smells like weed tomorrow.”

“yeah, why do you think i chose to do it in here?” he leered, bringing the blunt to his lips and deeply inhaling, sharp cheekbones protruding with the action. you sucked in a breath, not wanting to acknowledge just how gorgeous he was. his jacket was off, black shirt tightly gripping his muscular yet slender arms as he propped himself up. he blew the smoke from his nostrils this time, making your face heat. “wanna hit?”

you sighed, weighing the options. jean’s bed was a lot more comfortable than connie’s. you could just wait till eren was done, and then pass out. “no, but i’ll wait with you till you’re done.”

“suit yourself, brat,” eren hummed, flopping back down on the bed as you shut the door behind yourself. you came to sit by him, looking down as he heaved in a sober breath. he really is beautiful, you thought.

your eyes scanned his face. “you really shouldn’t be smoking, you know. you could lose the sponsorship.”

eren rolled his teal eyes, giving you a side glance. “i’m aware. i’m also aware that you aren’t going to rat on me.”

“and what makes you so sure?” you asked playfully, your voice low. eren’s gaze shifted to you, placing the blunt between his lips as he sat up, face inches from yours.

“because. you can act like you hate me all you want,” smoke blew from his lips as he spoke, slowly inching his face closer to yours. you swallowed, eyes struggling to maintain contact with his dark stare. “but i know how badly you want me.”

you blinked, heart rate accelerating as he glanced at your lips. “speaking from experience?”

eren’s mouth quirked up in a smirk at your words. “something like that.”

you watched with desire as he brought the bud of the blunt up to his lips, deeply inhaling the toxic smoke. he lifted his free hand, pointer finger gently tracing your jaw as his thumb came up to caress your chin. he tapped softly against your face, as if asking you to open your mouth.

you weren’t sure what part of you was wanting to submit to his every move. maybe it was the alcohol. or maybe it was the accumulation of sexual tension. something told you it was a deeper itch that needed to be scratched. an itch only eren could reach.

you parted your lips, eyes fluttering as eren leaned forward and carefully brushed his own against yours, dumping his lungful of smoke into your mouth. you breathed it in, fighting the urge to cough and whine as he pulled away.

“good girl,” he breathed, leaning away to snuff the bud out on jean’s bedside table. you heaved out as much as you could, shocked by your own willingness. you were mainly surprised by how much you enjoyed whatever that was.

you stared at him expectantly as he turned back to you, a serious expression on his face. “eren.”

“yes?” he asked, leaning heavily on his arm, eyes unashamedly focused on your lips. his other hand came up again, lightly ghosting your jawline. you could feel yourself growing wet between your legs; the way eren was fucking you with his eyes sending an unwelcomed throb to your clit.

acting on impulse, you lurched forward, latching your lips onto eren’s slightly chapped ones. he wasted no time in kissing you back; hungrily pressing himself closer to your body. his lips were warm and tasted like weed and coca cola, his tongue wiggling its way into your mouth where you happily welcomed it.

you brought your hand up, wanting to run your fingers through his hair, but were stopped when they got caught in the bun. eren grunted, kissing you harder and bringing his own hand up to yank the tie from his locks, letting his soft hair fall to his shoulders.

your fingers were quick to glide through the brown strands, scratching his scalp in the process. some throaty sound emitted from his chest, the noise making your cunt ache in need. how is he so hot?

eren’s hands came to your waist, roughly shoving you down onto the bed, so that he hovered above you. your lips continued to meld together, saliva coated mouths wetly intertwined. you removed your hand from his hair, bringing both hands to run down the expanse of his arms that were on either side of your head. you squeezed his biceps, surprised when he suddenly pulled away.

“is this okay?” he panted, breaths labored. his pupils were dilated, all seriousness behind his gaze. you nodded your head without hesitation, practically begging him to continue. “words.”

“yes, yes. i want this just as much as you do,” you responded. eren smirked from above you, his dark hair swirling around his face as his key dangled in front of your chin.

“good, because,” he leaned down to your ear, lightly nibbling the lobe as the cold key rested against your throat. “i’m going to punish you for all these years of torture.”

your eyes widened, the words sending a desirable chill down your spine. “torture?”

eren’s hot mouth travelled slowly from your ear down the side of your neck, lightly peppering the skin with lustful kisses. his tongue came out as he reached your collarbone, dragging the wet muscle up the front of your throat, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. a small whimper involuntarily left your mouth as he pulled back, grabbing your chin in his large hand.

“all of the nicknames,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “the quips,” and another, your chest tightening. “the stunt you pulled earlier with your hand. oh god. it’s like you were practically begging me to bend you over and teach you a lesson.”

he pulled back, dark eyes boring into yours. the desire was palpable, your breathing shallow as he stared at you. it was like he was waiting for some silent agreement.

you held eye contact, tilting your chin back ever so slightly in his grip. “good thing i learn fast.”

your words flew straight to his cock, throbbing uncomfortably behind his jeans. eren let go of your chin, his lips hungrily reconnecting with yours as his hands pinned your wrists to either side of your head. his tongue was quick to invite itself into your mouth, warm and erotic.

you wanted to tug on his hair again; wanted to hear his primal groans and feel him vibrate against your mouth, but you were pinned to the bed. desperate to hear eren moan, your teeth grazed his bottom lip, the action making him yank his head back.

“tsk tsk, none of that,” he growled, wet lips glinting in the low light of the room. “this is your punishment. guess we’re going to have to do something else.”

you frowned as he let go of your wrists, lifting himself from the bed and standing. you propped yourself up on your elbows, eyes laced with desire as eren swiftly pulled the black shirt over his head, key pendant resting on his newly exposed chest. he was dangerously attractive like this; dark hair disheveled on his shoulders, only adding to the feral stare he was giving you.

he leaned forward, grabbing your thighs and yanking you to the end of the bed, legs dangling from the side. you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees, fingers coming up to toy with the button of your jean shorts.

“these little shorts make your ass look so good,” he grumbled, tapping the button. “be good and take them off for me.”

you wasted no time in lifting your ass off the bed, struggling to yank the denim down your legs without hitting eren in the face. he watched your every movement, licking his lips as you wiggled them off.

without thinking, your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal a black bra. eren’s pupils dilated further at the unexpected sight of your breasts.

he helped pull the shorts from your ankles, tossing them aside as you sat back down, just in your panties and bra. you paused for a moment, unsure of what he was planning to do.

“watch me,” he demanded, staring at you through his brows. you nodded your head, breath hitching as he placed an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, tongue swiping against the smooth skin.

his eyelashes fluttered as he licked up your leg; just the way he looked at you being enough to have you creaming in your lace panties. your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, the burning in your face mirroring the way your clit throbbed along with your heart beat.

eren’s tongue trailed until he reached the edge of your underwear, eyes never failing to stay connected with yours. you swallowed as he lifted his head, placing his tongue flatly against your clothed clit.

it was a warm, muted feeling, your body all too aware of the beautiful man between your legs. eren brought his fingers up, hooking under the fabric and pushing it to the side.

“so wet for me already,” he hummed, a smile on his face. you blushed in embarrassment, the feeling of his breath on your glistening pool of moisture making you shiver. “’m gonna eat you so good, little bitch.”

you gasped as eren rapidly brought his face down, burying his head between your legs. the sensation was like no other; a swirling feeling in your stomach as his tongue hungrily swiped against your clit. your hands flew down to his hair, tugging as his lips wrapped around the bud, suckling softly.

a moan escaped your lips, the sound causing eren to groan out in reply. the vibration of his vocal cords against your center amplifying the pleasure.

a distinct feeling began to burn in your chest, the sloppiness of eren’s tongue licking up your slick causing your legs to squirm, tightening around his head. “fuck.”

eren pulled back at the pressure against his skull, a smack sounding through the air as he released his suction on your wet cunt.

“i told you to be good,” he hissed, lips coated in your sheen. you knew the image of eren’s face between your legs, hair disheveled and mouth swollen, eyes dark and lustrous, would be burned into the back of your brain.

flustered, you nodded your head, spreading your legs so they weren’t pressing against his face. he nodded in content, arms coming up to wrap around your thighs to keep you steady.

and he was back; eating your pussy like he hadn’t been fed in years, a primal desperation. he pressed his tongue down harder, the cry ripping from your throat at the sensation only egging him on. you struggled against his grip as he abused your clit with his mouth, sucking and tracing his teeth over it so good.

his tongue slid down to your entrance, shoving itself in without invitation. the fullness wasn’t like having sex; it was a heated, swirling feeling. the wet muscle circled around your spongey walls, your face beginning to burn and hands growing clammy in eren’s hair.

you threw your head back as his ministrations sped up, your hips attempting to grind into his face. the warmth in the pit of your stomach building like a loaded gun, ready to release itself.

all it took was the added pressure of his hand wrapping around your thigh so that his thumb could press against your clit, feverishly rubbing. you came crashing down, your eyes screwing shut as the wave of dopamine stretched to every part of your body, legs jerking against his hold.

eren pulled his head back again, a smile on his wet face as he licked your release from his lips. “tasted so good, so good for me.”

you breathed out in reply as he came back up above you, gently taking your chin and bringing his mouth down to yours.

the kiss was small and simple, your eye lids growing heavy. you could taste your bitter release on him, the unfamiliar flavor not completely unpleasant.

“sleepy?” eren mumbled against your lips, coming back to look at you. you nodded your head, eyes catching on the key that dangled from his neck. “too bad. we aren’t done with your punishment yet.”

you frowned, your body suddenly more awake than it was before. “huh?” you asked, sitting up as eren shifted to pull his jeans off.

you weren’t sure what you expected when he yanked both his jeans and boxers down; you guessed you’d always thought his anger issues were compensation for something. the realization dawned on you that eren had nothing to compensate for as his cock sprung from his pants, the sheer size making your mouth water.

a smirk crossed his face as he stepped from his jeans. “enjoying the view?”

“what? no,” you scoffed, averting your gaze. eren crawled back over you, his bare length pressing into your stomach as his hands came up to unclasp your bra.

“don’t be shy, this is your punishment after all,” he whispered, pulling the cups from your chest. his eyes unashamedly scanned your breasts, a smile tugging his lips as he gave them a generous squeeze.

you tried to ignore the imprint of him on your stomach; but it was nearly impossible. you could feel the spot between your legs grow wet again, arousal already weaseling its way back into your system.

eren brought his lips to yours once again, the kisses much sloppier and desperate than before. he grunted as you shifted to lay back down, his exposed dick rubbing against your stomach. “can’t wait to be inside of you,” he mumbled against your lips.

you whimpered at his words, his lips melding with your own while he simultaneously tugged your panties down your legs. he propped himself up with one arm, the other positioning the tip of his cock at the entrance of your already throbbing cunt.

you took a deep breath as he slowly eased himself into you; the sheer stretch making your eyes lull back in your head. eren moved his hips slowly at first, loosening you up. he was watching your expressions; his eyelids heavy and mouth slightly agape.

“shit, you’re so tight,” he groaned, hips starting to move faster as he gazed down at you. you swallowed, closing your eyes as he sent one particularly hard thrust, cock nearly ramming your cervix. “you good?”

“mhm,” you responded, bringing your hands up to grab his hair. “just so big.”

eren let out a breathy chuckle at that, eyes traveling down to your pelvis where his dick was visibly creating a bump with every thrust. he placed his hand on your stomach, pressing down as he bucked his hips violently forwards. he was so deep.

you cried out at the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, your walls clenching around him as your hands clawed at his muscular back.

he was filling you up so good, a moan leaving his lips as your enhanced arousal unexpectedly brought your second orgasm down, tears pricking your eyes. eren kept abusing your pussy, his thrusts growing senseless before he buried himself deep within you, releasing his load inside of your exhausted center.

both of your breathing was labored, eren looking up at the ceiling. his face was flushed as he recovered, you laying limply beneath him trying to regain your composure yourself.

“that felt so good,” you admitted, bringing your hand up from his back to caress his angular face. eren frowned at your words, large hand grabbing your wrist and removing it from his jawline.

“m’not tired yet,” he said seriously, your eyes widening as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. your fucked out face beneath him had his dick already hardening again. “m’not gonna be tired till i win.”

he suddenly pulled up, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing your legs up by your head. the action strained your muscles, the feeling of eren’s cum dripping down your ass filling your head as he readied himself to fuck you senseless.

he stared at your cunt; at the way his cum was oozing out of it, the abused pussy ready to take him in again. he used his fingers to catch the drip, forcing it back inside of you. the thought of filling you up all nice and pretty sent him over the edge, his hand shamelessly guiding his cock back inside of you.

eren was meaner this time; each thrust was deep and deliberate, hitting your cervix and making you cry out in pleasure. the burning sensation in your clit was overwhelming, your mouth hanging open as eren slowly fucked you stupid.

“good, pretty girl” eren breathed out, ramming his hips into yours. “took her punishment like such a good girl.”

you tried to nod your head, but you couldn’t move. the feeling of hot, sticky tears rolled down your face, eren’s cock deep within you almost too much to bear. he grabbed your chin, tongue swiping up your cheek as he savored the salty flavor on his tastebuds. this man and his licking.

“tell me, did you learn your lesson?” eren grunted in your ear, hand still gripping your chin. you tried to form a sentence, fucked beyond words. “hm, use your words and i’ll let you cum.”

one more deep thrust and his dick stopped its strokes, pausing within you. “yes... yes.”

“yes what?”

your tongue was heavy in your mouth, pussy all too aware of eren’s length within it. “i learned my lesson, you won.”

he smirked, aggressively bucking his hips into your weak cunt, the action making you cry out as he rammed your cervix. the tears continued to roll down your cheeks as eren’s dick twitched, spurting the his seed into you. your third release followed his, your clit spasming from the overstimulation.

eren heaved himself out of you, collapsing deftly onto the bed. the two of you sat in a heated silence, your face sticky from the tears. eren glanced to you, eyes trailing down your body.

“i’ll get a rag,” he mumbled, shoving off the bed and walking into jean’s bathroom. you were beyond exhausted and knew that you’d be sore tomorrow. eren reemerged, quickly cleaning you up and handing you your shirt.

your eyes lazily watched him as he walked over and locked the door; brain too tired to form a sentence.

he must’ve noticed your concern. “we can sleep in here tonight; i don’t think you’re in any shape to move.”

you carefully crawled into the sheets, not even bothering to put your shirt back on. eren followed suit, climbing in behind you.

“night,” he whispered as he shut the bedside light off. your lids were growing heavy, a smile on your lips as you began to fall asleep.

“night, casanova.”

<3 <3 <3

#eren jaeger #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren #eren x reader #eren smut #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren jäger #this is so bad im sorry

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awarmbowlofhomemadesoup · 3 years

Text

AceAro Miles Edgeworth’s Platonic Crush on Phoenix Wright Headcanons

Platonic crush: the desire to be platonically intimate with someone without romantic or sexual attraction. Intensity like any kind of crushes can vary.

In Childhood:

When they were children, Miles would often talk more about Phoenix than Larry, to the point that Ray Shields began teasing him about having a crush on Phoenix. And Miles would be like, “No?” because last time he checked he wasn’t experiencing that “heart stuff” that he sees in zany cartoons.

When they have to sit and rest somewhere, Miles would read a book with at least his knee touching Phoenix. Or if there was enough space, his back touching Phoenix’s side. No, Larry, it’s not a snuggle, now hush. (Similar to how a cat would lounge at their favorite owner’s side while casually not looking at them).

As much as he enjoyed them as the Signal Samurai trio, his favorite moments were just talking with Phoenix about anything under the sun -in the early hour before class or when they have dropped Larry home and it was just him and Phoenix.

He often looked forward to the quiet instances that Phoenix would hold his hand while they’re walking home alone since Phoenix is more at ease with affection than he was.

Some teenagers hollered at them for it and Phoenix let go, embarrassed, while Miles was wondering why he was embarrassed when they both know it was because they were good friends. So he just stubbornly grabbed his hand again and dragged him away from those immature buffoons.

Miles was neutral when it comes to Valentines Day. But when Phoenix received a box of chocolates from a girl he likes, Miles became more aloof and disinterested. He wondered why there was no celebration for friendship. Idle time was spent on thinking what gift he would give Phoenix if there was a proper day for celebrating best friends. (Larry is also his best friend but he doesn’t have the word that distinguishes his friendship with Larry and friendship with Phoenix.)

Miles was disappointed that he was unable to find the specific term between best friend and deeper best friend. Even his father doesn’t know. Gregory Edgeworth assured him he would find it someday.

Being someone who thinks ahead, Miles knew that someday Phoenix might not prioritize and value their friendship as much as he does once Phoenix would get a girlfriend. Miles tried very hard not to think of the time they would be in middle school.

After Gregory’s death, Miles never received Phoenix’s letters as von Karma wants to isolate him from his original home. Even when Miles appreciate the song request from Phoenix dedicated to him, von Karma made it clear that sentimental relations will distract him from perfection. Plus, Miles thought it was a one time and that Phoenix probably had a girlfriend to dedicate himself to by now.

In Adulthood (Platonic Crush to Queerplatonic Attraction to QP Love):

Early Career. When Miles received college Phoenix’s letters, his first reaction was confusion. Out-of-the-blue this ghost from the past was asking him why he was being called Demon Prosecutor. Second reaction was stonewalling. There was no point delving about how a person used to make him feel.

State vs Fey. After the trial, Miles told himself he developed an intellectual hyperfixation towards Phoenix Wright as he arranged his brand new custom chess set with the “spike-y” pawns. He was half-right. If only he wasn’t so entangled with von Karma’s opinions on “sentimental relations”.

State vs Powers. Miles’ platonic crush resurfaced somewhere after Will Powers’ case and Phoenix asking to defend him.

State vs Edgeworth. He faintly realized at the moment Phoenix had smiled at him in relief once Miles got acquitted, that Phoenix was someone he wanted in his life. If only Miles deserved so.

Miles would never admit he finds a unique sense of enjoyment in working with cases where Phoenix had to defend. He doubted if a lot of people experience intimacy in rivalry.

State vs Skye. Unfortunately, Miles have bigger things to deal with like coming into terms with a mentor that had both raised and twisted him, struggling to find a new norm as eyes watched him, his very story available to the public, then having to face the Skye case that made him question everything he was as a prosecutor.

It all became too much and he wasn’t thinking straight and one of those thoughts was that Phoenix was better off knowing a better person than him.

State vs Engarde. The belief was instilled when Phoenix got mad at him for faking his own death.

After having a talk and Miles realizing that cutting people off abruptly was more of a dick move than he thought, he and Phoenix kept in touch after.

In the space he had given himself in Europe, Miles decided that aside from becoming a better lawyer, he wanted to be the friend Phoenix deserved to have in his life, with the same intimacy they had in childhood that he still couldn’t name.

State vs Iris. Miles was pretty much neutral around Iris. If Phoenix would decide to rekindle his relationship with her (though the deception made him wrinkle his nose no matter how true Iris’ feelings were at that time), he wouldn’t care as long as he and Phoenix would still be in good terms as partners. Even if Phoenix would not put as much special connotations as he would in their partnership. That was all he could ask for after everything.

Ace Attorney Investigations: Miles Edgeworth. Whenever Kay would tease him about “that man”, Miles would just look at her dryly. At this point, he should know not a lot of people would understand.

7-year Disbarment. Phoenix’s disbarment drew them closer together after Miles’ was finally able to contact him when Phoenix shut everyone out. Miles couldn’t do much being in Europe but he does what he could from flying them to Europe so that Phoenix could help him with his cases to caring for Trucy.

Their commitment for each other only grew from raising Trucy together to righting Japanifornia’s legal system.

Miles wished he could kiss Phoenix on the forehead without making it weird. It just felt like Phoenix needed it. Comforting Phoenix with hugs and handholding, at least, was never questioned for romantic interest.

When Phoenix began to study for the bar again, Miles often enjoy Phoenix falling asleep on his shoulder. Unseen, Miles would smile before poking him awake.

He enjoys movie nights with the Wright family where Trucy and Phoenix would snuggle close and dinner/banter with Phoenix every week.

Fantasies of sleep-snuggling with the man he admires and trusts the most and has an intense emotional-intellectual connection? Of course, he does. “So near and yet so far” has never been so painful in that one time they have to share a bed.

After Phoenix got his badge back, Miles was pretty much satisfied. His life was more stable, inner and outer, than it had ever been. Phoenix and Trucy’s life were also stable. Miles now felt more confident and comfortable in their bond and Miles would do what it takes to keep it as a part of his life.

He may have felt a little thrill when they both become comfortable enough for Phoenix to be casually affectionate with his touch -an arm around his shoulder as they laugh about something, a hand on his arm when asking about a case- it felt like back in their more carefree childhood.

State vs Wyatt. Miles was pretty much ruffled with questions about marriage directed at him of all people. But if he has to marry someone, it might as well be someone he knew so well and trusts so much. Miles may have opted out some of his opinions in marriage but he was no longer the person who would lie to himself of who that someone would be.

He wanted... something. He wanted a sort of exclusivity with Phoenix. The idea of Phoenix dating other people made Miles realized he wasn’t the type to share. The revelation itself was frustrating when he was neutral or repulsed of varying degrees when it comes to different romantic and sexual acts.

With a combination of finally having the words to describe what he wanted in Google Search and help with his therapist, the name of what he wanted with Phoenix was a queerplatonic relationship with a compromise on whatever would be Phoenix’s romantic/sexual needs from him. If Phoenix would have him as so. And if Phoenix wouldn’t... well, their friendship had been through a lot of things, this one event wouldn’t change it much.

(This is from my own experiences and wants as someone in the acearo spectrum. I’m not the universal experience for acearo and it can be different for everyone else.)

#ace attorney #narumitsu #wrightworth #miles edgeworth #mitsurugi reiji #why is this so long #sorry i don't have the spoons to commit to writing a fic #I tried my best to organize it without being wholly familiar with the Turnabout Titles #sex-neutral romance-neutral aroace miles edgeworth

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bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years

Text

Fic Friday: (Not So) Private Affairs

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

Wrote most of the initial draft of this at 1-2 am via keyboard attachment for my tablet. I don’t know where it came from or why I’ve been writing about blowjobs so much lately in the past couple months, but hey, at least I could write something for my favorite Persona 5 DILF.

Summary Reader has a late-night rendezvous with a local airsoft shop owner not long before the store closes for the evening.

Tags/Warnings

Blowjobs, Creampie, Consensual S*x, Oral S*x. Reader-Insert, Semi-Public S*x, Shameless Smut, Vaginal S*x, Wall S*x

(Not So) Private Affairs (F! Reader/Iwai Munehisa)

It was difficult to recall everything that had led up to the moment you found yourself in, on your knees on the cold, hard floor of the airsoft shop in a small alley in Shibuya. Some idle chat here, some flirting and innuendos there, and throughout the entire conversation trying to suss out whether the object of your affections was even vaguely interested in returning them. Lucky enough for you, Munehisa Iwai was interested, and the banter that came from him was implicit but easy enough to read. Though, you weren’t entirely sure whether Iwai’s interest extended past the simple physical side of things. You would settle for something physical to start. If things went well, there was always time later to figure out if a more involved relationship had potential.

It was rather late, not long before closing time, and there was very little chance any more customers would wander into the store. Despite that, it surprised you just how bold Iwai was, given it was only the counters and display cases and dim lights separating the view of you from anyone who might walk in the door. Hell, even someone passing by too close and peering in would have a rather clear idea what was going on if they more than glanced. Yet, you surprised yourself, as well, with your willingness to take that risk.

Initially, when his veiled invitation had been thrust into the conversation after you had dropped in and talked for a little while, you had been thoroughly flustered. Your face had heated instantly, your mouth becoming dry and your heart seeking to jump up your throat. Coming around the counter and kneeling between his knees, you had fumbled with his belt, fingers trembling with excitement and nerves alike. But once you had successful unbuckled it and reached into his pants and underwear, those nerves had swiftly died.

Under your touch, Iwai was hot and thick, mostly soft but velvety at first, growing quickly harder the longer you brushed your fingers over him. Pulling him free of his clothes left any doubts or distractions to wither away to nothing. Left in their wake was only a hunger that made your mouth water. Glancing briefly at Iwai out of the corner of your vision without moving your head, you spied a pleased little smirk on his lips, broken only by the stick of the sugar candy jutting from them. The sight only exacerbated your craving for him and weakened your control.

You didn’t bother wasting time teasing him, as much as part of you wanted to. With only a soft lick as a small test of his flavor, you wrapped your lips around the head of his dick fully, flattening your tongue against ir. The salty tang of skin and bitter pre-cum greeted your tongue fully, and you released a small, stifled moan of delighted satisfaction. You sucked lightly for a moment, swirling and skating your tongue around the head and wriggling it against the sensitive spot on the underside until you heard Iwai inhale sharply. An appreciative, growling hum of pleasure from Iwai spurred you onward, and you took more in more of his hardening length. You relished the way the distinct taste of him filled your mouth, and how the thick vein on the underside of his dick throbbed against your tongue.

“That’s it, just like that, you’ve got it,” Iwai praised with a gravelly groan.

The weight of Iwai’s hand settled over your skull, not to steer you, but to thread through your hair and rub your scalp gingerly. The gentle touch was more encouragement and you could have practically purred, mouth still wrapped around his cock, hungrily taking more of him. When you reached your limit, you paused, sucking harder and hollowing your cheeks. Tongue pressed against the bottom of him, you bobbed your head up and down in a steady rhythm. Lost in your enthusiasm, you ignored the ribbon of drool that dribbled past your lips and down your chin, lost among what already coated Iwai’s length. You let him slip from lips with a half-audible ‘pop’, before circling the tip and diving back onto him all again, and repeating the motion.

In the back of your mind, there lingered the nagging reminder anyone could come in and see you so eagerly blowing the airsoft shop owner in his seat. Somehow, the thought was exhilarating rather than frightful, and the longer you bobbed up and down on Iwai’s cock, the more turned on you found yourself, as if you were the one receiving such salacious attention rather than the other way around. Your arousal reached such a smoldering height, you couldn’t resist any longer, not bothering to stop as you slipped a hand into your pants and panties. You slid a couple of fingers through your lips, already slick, and rubbed in light circles. Even with a soft touch, the added feeling was bliss, and you moaned lewdly around your mouthful.

Iwai didn’t miss the sudden change in volume, nor what it meant. He grinned down at you in amusement through a haze of pleasure. His free hand dipped down to grab your arm, pulling it up and out of your panties and denying you the stimulation you desired so badly.

“I don’t remember saying you could do that,” he scolded, though his tone was almost playful, far from harsh.

You whined around his cock, casting your gaze up as far as you could without stopping your rhythm, trying to plead with him silently. His grin remained as he looked down at you, and you knew he wasn’t like to give in to your wordless pleas from some simple puppy dog eyes. You didn’t let the theft of your ability to touch yourself deter you for long, though, or from trying to slyly pry your arm out of his grasp to disobey him, as futile an effort as it was.

After a bit of that game, you renewed your initial efforts, deciding that if you finished him, Iwai would hopefully return the favor. Worst-case scenario, he shooed you off when you were done and you could take care of things yourself as you had already tried. Noting the shift in your focus, Iwai at last let your arm free, and you moved it immediately between his legs. Reaching further into his underwear, you found his balls, cupping and gently fondling them as you moved up and down his shaft.

The added touched earned you several quiet, raspy groans. Once when you looked up again, you were treated to the arousing sight of Iwai with his eyes closed, his mouth handing partly open, the lollipop looking as if it were about to tumble out and escape. A new shock of heat tore through you, agonizing strong and intoxicating. Iwai’s dick twitched harder against your tongue and the soft, throaty noises above you increased, alike almost to growls of pleasure. You clenched your thighs together needily, trying to suppress the need Iwai refused to let you tend.

When Iwai’s hips started to shift beneath your welcoming mouth, he stopped you, holding you down on his dick for a moment before pulling you up and off abruptly. With his hand curled in your hair, you looked at him with a mixture of concern and confusion. Had you screwed something up? The thought came to you quickly, but was wiped away just as fast at the expression on Iwai’s face. His cheeks were flushed, a bit of sweat beaded on his brow, and his eyes roiled with intensity and hunger.

Iwai got to his feet quickly, not exactly pulling you along with him, but urging you to rise, too, and follow him. He directed you away from the display cases, away from the storefront where you, too, may as well have been on display. Iwai had finally seen a need for privacy it seemed, though your lust-addled brain was too preoccupied to consider why he didn’t just lock up shop to keep out any potentially intruding eyes away. You were bent only on following wherever he beckoned, waiting to see what he had in store for you, and hoping it would sate your ravenous hunger.

In the backroom, cluttered with box and inventory and other miscellany you’d expect of the airsoft shop - and some you might not have - Iwai stopped, turning to face you. You wondered briefly if he would have you finish what you started, now that you were away from stray prying eyes. But Iwai set upon you instead, pushing you back up against a wall on the least cluttered side of the room. He had clarity enough to toss aside what you saw was hardly more than just the stick of his lollipop before his hot mouth sealed over yours.

The kiss was ardent, sloppy from the lust burning behind it. There was a stray clack of teeth, and you winced before forgetting about it entirely when Iwai slipped his tongue past your lips. As it fought your own into submission, you couldn’t help but notice the taste that clung to it from the candy, fruity and cloying. His body lay flush against yours, radiating heat through his clothes and only magnifying the heat already rushing through you. His arms caged you in on either side, hands splayed against the wall, and there wasn’t an inch of him you couldn’t feel. The hardest part of him, still standing at eager attention, was especially difficult to ignore.

The passionate kiss didn’t last as long as you might have liked, however. But when Iwai broke away, you could hardly be mad, as his focus turned to your pants. He worked them down and off, hooking his fingers beneath your panties and dragging away, too, until they both dropped to the floor around your ankles. You stepped quickly out of them before Iwai wrapped a firm hand under each of your thighs and lifted, pinning you harder against the wall. He urged you to tuck your legs around his hips, fitting hotly against you, skin-to-skin. You placed your hands on his shoulders, holding tightly, even though you had no fears Iwai might drop you.

When his cock brushed against your lips, welcomingly wet from your hot and bothered state, you couldn’t resist the impulse to buck your hips into his. You groaned in unison, and his hips twitched reflexively in answer. You reached down, taking his length in your hand to guide him closer to your entrance.

“Eager, huh?” Iwai teased, though he didn’t seem to be interested in wasting time either.

With the head of his cock kissing your slit, he pushed forward, sinking in smoothly, halfway at first, before pulling out and driving back home. You moaned and mumbled a few incoherent curses under your breath. The sensation of his cock buried inside you and unmoving even for only a fleeting few seconds made you feel mad with need.

“Iwai, fuck, please, move,” you begged, grinding your hips against his, intentionally squeezing your core around him, trying to entice him to do as you bade.

“Shit. I will, just be patient,” he half-scolded again, though the guttural groan that broke his speech ruined any attempt to sound stern or serious.

He was true to his promise though, pulling out easily and pushing inside with a bit more vigor, and then again, faster and harder, and again and again until his pace was swift and steady. You ground and rocked your hips against him, striving for more of the delicious friction you needed to help you come undone. It was enough on its own though, and the tortuous surge of heat and tension firming in your belly made you cry out, desperate and obscene.

Your cries and enthusiasm only piqued Iwai’s own arousal, and he buried his head in the curve of your neck, grunting and panting hotly against your skin. His rhythm picked up further, and his hands still looped around your thighs gripped harder, making you wonder if they would leave fingerprint-shaped bruises come the next morning. That train of thought was disposed of quickly, though, when Iwai’s husky voice rasped in your ear.

“Go on, you wanted to touch yourself so damn bad earlier. Not like I can stop you now, right?” he growled, and you shivered.

You didn’t need to be told twice, relinquishing half of your grip on his shoulders and making a beeline to between your legs. You brushed your fingers over your swollen clit, rubbing frantic circles, your fingertips sometimes brushing Iwai’s length when he pulled back.

Pushed so close already to the edge from the aching fullness from Iwai’s cock and the tantalizing friction and primal sounds, you didn’t need long. The telltale tenseness in your gut drew almost painfully tight, your muscles tensing along with it, before everything burst and sent you spiraling into bliss. Your cunt clenched around Iwai greedily, fighting to pull him back inside and deeper still.

His groans mingled with yours, muffled where his face rested against your skin. You worked your clit until it was simply too sensitive to go on anymore, leaving your orgasm to ebb away into small, but still pleasurable ripples, your walls continuing to flutter around his cock. Each new thrust into your heat elicited a new noise, a moan or a whimper, each impact sending a shock wave of over sensitivity through you that was both devilish and divine.

When you thought you couldn’t take anymore, though, your cries reaching an airy pitch, Iwai’s pace increased even more, becoming the roughest and quickest so far, before he stuttered against your hips. He came with a few last, hard thrusts, pumping cum into you with each, filling you to the brim with a wet, hot sensation. He groaned bestially against your neck, teeth scraping against your skin as he tried to stifle the sound.

There were several moments of pleasant, sweat silence that followed your orgasms, broken only by labored breathing that slowly became more soft and relaxed. Moments in which you lingered in the afterglow of your passion before coming back down to earth. Iwai slipped of you, some of his cum leaking out and down your thighs as he gingerly retracted your legs from around his waist and settled you onto your feet.

Feeling somewhat weak in the knees, and a little light-headed, you rested against the cool wall for support. It was another minute before you thought you could support yourself without stumbling or your legs buckling. You managed, though, with a slight wavering that was amusing to Iwai, if his gruff, tired chuckle was anything to go by.

“Was that too much to handle?” he jested with a rakish grin, and you rolled your eyes. Though you were unable to resist matching his smile. Iwai glanced at the time, realizing how late it had become during your little rendezvous. “You should probably be getting home. Getting too late to be safe,” he cautioned.

Iwai’s concern was touching, though the fact he had left you a perfect opening was what made your grin widen. “Oh, you think so? Well, if you’re worried about me, why don’t you escort me home? I’m sure I could make up for the trouble.”

#writing #fanfiction #iwai munehisa #persona 5 #ao3 #archive of our own #fandom #nsft #n/s/f/w #fic friday #fanfic friday

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tifaria · 5 years

Note

Good Omen fan fic recommendations?

This has been unanswered in my notes for far too long!

Whoo boy, where do I start?? Let me just pull up my AO3 bookmarks… okay. This is gonna be a long post because I have a Lot of Thoughts about fic in this fandom. I’ll separate by types of fic.

Series/stories with a plot:

Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm

As soon as Aubrey Thyme, psychotherapist, had opened her office door and seen her new client, Anthony J. Crowley, sitting in her waiting area, she was observing and assessing him. At first glance, she paid attention to the following:

–His clothing was expensive and stylish;–He wore very strange but noticeable cologne;–His relationship to the seat he occupied could only, very loosely, be described as “sitting;”–He looked angry;–He was wearing sunglasses.

What Aubrey Thyme, a professional, thought, upon first seeing her new client was: you’re going to be a fun one, aren’t you?

Okay, so some warnings: discussion of suicide, PTSD, implied alcohol abuse and implied child abuse. That said…. this is an excellent fic and I was thinking about it for days after it ended. It’s about Crowley dealing with trauma from the bookshop fire, and it has an outsider POV that I ended up caring deeply about, and the ending had me in (happy) tears. Just. It’s a miracle that this fic exists.

A Curious Case of Miracles on Marlborough Street by @nihilnovisubsole

After stopping the apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale finally take the next step in their six-thousand-year friendship. But when a spate of miracles sweeps across Soho and Mayfair, they realize their amorous escapades may have an unintended side effect. As they scramble to restore balance and an archangel arrives to investigate, Heaven and Hell’s messengers learn that you can never have too much of a good thing.

At the very least, you need to go look at the art on this fic, because it is magnificent. But you should really read the story, because it’s absurd and weird but in a way that makes it feel like it could plausibly take place in the TV-verse. Implied sexual content, nothing explicit. Plenty of humor. It’s crackfic that’s taken seriously, but it works and I love it.

The Sandford Flower Show by Musimm

Crowley had waited six thousand years, kept it all in check. But this was the slipperiest slope he’d ever set foot on and as soon as he’d indulged in a few discretionary acts of kindness he was falling face first into pining, tumbling into flirting, about to dislocate his knees on the sharp rocks of intimacy.

Was this really it? What he had waited six thousand years for? A stupid flower show? Aziraphale wasn’t pulling away from him. Maybe… maybe this time he wouldn’t? Maybe they’d hold hands again. Maybe tonight with a bottle of merlot in them he’d finally work up the courage and just kiss him and he wouldn’t pull away.

The very moment he’d thought it he spotted the problem at the flower show.

Chapter 7 is explicit, so if that’s not your jam, skip to the next chapter after they go to bed. I really enjoyed this one! There’s angst, pining, miscommunication, idiots acting like idiots, but with a happy ending. The plot is interesting and the original characters were engaging and felt like they’d fit right into the TV-verse. I re-read this immediately after finishing it, that’s how much I liked it.

I Will Get Up Now and Go About the City by @drawlight

This is the story of six-thousand years and a borrowed jacket. (A tale told in vignettes.)

Look, if you haven’t gone and read every single thing that @drawlight has written by now, I don’t know what to tell you. This is my favorite fic of his. It is, quite simply, poetry. I’m due for a re-read, in fact.

Fluff/Sweetness:

Divine Intervention (AKA God Ships It) by @theladyzephyr

There’s a battle strategy devised by humans many millennia ago that’s designed to overcome an adversary who is particularly well entrenched. Some walls are too tall and thick for a frontal assault, and must instead be bested through sheer dogged stubbornness.

Crowley and Aziraphale didn’t know it, but they were about to be put under siege.

Fed up with an angel and a demon who are still avoiding any talk of Feelings, God starts to interfere. When it comes to the ineffable plan, sometimes things need a bit of a push.

Listen. This is my favorite fluffy Good Omens fic ever. It’s silly, it’s romantic, it’s completely heartfelt, and it’s joyous and happy. I grinned so hard while reading it, and re-reading it, and re-reading it again. I go to this fic when I’ve had a bad day. I go to this fic when I’ve had a good day. It’s wonderful and sweet and it fills my heart with warmth.

Sunny Picnic with the Southern Pansy by @almaasi

As the one-year mark of the Unpocalypse approaches, Aziraphale pointedly mentions to Crowley that he’d like to spend the anniversary doing “something lovely” with “somebody special”. Thus, Crowley secretly plans a surprise picnic in Tadfield with Anathema and the Them. Of course, this comes served with a plateful of misunderstandings, a side of moping, and a seasoning of mischief… eventually followed by a deliciously pleasant afternoon.

I love when authors can work in the ensemble cast in a way that works. This fic is fluffy, warm, and fuzzy. I loved every time The Them were in a scene because the author wrote them so well.

Saturday (Wouldn’t It Be Nice) by Sir_Bedevere

It’s a Saturday in the little cottage on the South Downs, where a demon and an angel are spending their retirement, and there’s nothing - nothing - that they can’t face together.

It’s a Saturday, and this is how Saturdays tend to go.

This is a gentle and soft fic that soothes my soul when I read it. There’s plenty of cuddling, sweetness, and fluff. This fic is like a comforting, warm blanket when you’ve had a hard day.

Love Like Fools by @animeangelriku

One minute, Aziraphale is cataloguing some of his first editions, and the next one, he’s leaning against the bookshelf with one hand because he feels like the breath he doesn’t necessarily need (but is nonetheless used to taking) has just been knocked out of him.

He does not need to hold back his feelings for Crowley anymore. He does not need to hide his feelings for Crowley anymore. They’re on their own side now.

Soft romance with hand-holding and plenty of kissing? Sign me up. I live for Aziraphale showering Crowley with affection, and Crowley being overwhelmed by it.

An Honest Surrender by @kedreeva

“For six thousand years,” Crowley said, voice cracking, “I have wanted something I couldn’t have, because I asked the wrong questions. But I’m asking the right one now. The only one that matters.”

In which Aziraphale follows Crowley home after the nonpocalypse.

I never get tired of what-happened-at-Crowley’s-flat-that-night fics. Never. Give me all of them. This one depicts the boys as asexual and includes some intense soul-bonding that I find really lovely and that I think is achingly beautiful.

It’s Getting Hard, This Holding Back by ZehWulf

6,000-odd years is a long time to evolve a romantic relationship, but as a near-immortal being, Crowley had patience. True, they had lost momentum right around reaching the Speaking Looks and Meaningful Gestures stage, but at the time Crowley had been more or less content to let things idle.

Now, he was determined to shift things back into gear, and that gear was Explicitly Romantic Physical Expressions of Affection.

Crowley comes up with a plot for easing into physical affection with Aziraphale, and it goes about like you’d expect. Cute, sweet, and fluffy asexual relationship.

Smut/Explicit:

Lie Back And Think Of Dinner by jessthereckless

“Crowley, this is a disaster. This is everything I ever wanted. We’re in love. And there’s a picnic. And we don’t seem to be able to get…amorous without causing earthquakes.”

Aziraphale attempts subterfuge. Crowley sees right through him.

This fic is so cute, with just a bit of smut. I don’t always enjoy smut, because sometimes I feel it strays too much from their characterization, but this fic gets it right. It’s funny and charming and the dialogue is spot on. When you’re finished, read the sequel, which has more explicit smut but still manages to be believable for me while also being very sweet.

The First Week of the Rest of their Lives by @deputychairman

“Port gives the worst hangovers in the world, did you know that?” Crowley slurred when the bottle was all gone. “Don’t know who got credit for that one. Nice drink, lovely drink, shame it makes you want to die in the morning.”

“Such a shame,” Aziraphale agreed sadly, watching Crowley stretch out on his sofa. He did like port. He liked Crowley stretched out on his sofa, too.

After a week of lunch dates, Aziraphale is finally ready to face his feelings. This is sexy and just smutty enough and the banter between them in the bedroom is cute but also hot.

Overboard by Laura Shapiro

Asking Crowley to move here with him is, Aziraphale thinks, the bravest thing he has ever done.

Aziraphale tries and fails to deal with his anxiety, and eventually the pining and angst lead to an understanding. I enjoyed the depiction of Aziraphale’s anxiety over he and Crowley’s relationship, and the sex is very well done and you can sense the love in it.

Alternate Universe (AU):

Here’s the thing about AUs: I don’t usually enjoy them. I find that often the characters don’t resemble the ones I know at all, and it prevents me from getting interested in the story. However, I have come across some that I’ve loved, and while the characterizations aren’t necessary recognizable as Aziraphale and Crowley, the stories are compelling and well-written. I tend to think of it as the actors from the TV series playing other parts, and it works for me.

Acts of Service by seekwill

After receiving direct instruction from God, village reverend Aziraphale leaves his countryside congregation to serve the underserved and in-need at an urban church in London, a transition made all the more complicated by the mysterious and handsome Crowley, who always seems to appear when Aziraphale least expects him.

I was thinking about this fic for a while after I finished it. Is it a bit soap operatic? Yes. Is it also compelling and romantic and sexy? Hell yes. Just go read it and decide for yourself. The only reason I didn’t finish the entire fic in one evening is because I read until 1am and then had to wake up four hours later. Otherwise I’d have binged it all in one go.

Only Love (Can Bring the Rain) by soft_october

There were all these little hopes and musings Crowley buried so deep in his heart it ached to bring them out into the light to catalogue their faults and flaws, and each time Aziraphale sought him out, or asked his opinion on some weighty manner that was hanging on him, or even just smiled, those little wishings grew bigger and bigger, pressing in on him until he felt as if he was being crushed.

“Princes do not fall in love with gardener boys,” he told himself one night, staring into the shard of looking glass he kept on a shelf, hoping it would help, hoping that hearing it out loud would make him believe it, would help him put all these ridiculous notions behind him.

It didn’t work.

Crowley and Aziraphale, the gardener’s boy and the prince, meet as children and develop an unlikely friendship.

By the time they’re twenty, everything has changed.

Crowley is a gardener, Aziraphale is a prince, and this reads like a gentle fairy tale. I adore everything about it.

With All Your Delights by @weatheredlaw

Crowley laughed. “I thought you’d have realized by now. I am no ordinary king.”

“No,” Aziraphale said. “You certainly are not.”

or: aziraphale is sent as a gift to the southern king to smooth over trade negotiations. they both find themselves in over their heads.

Good Lord, this fic. This fic is so sexy, so romantic, so immersive. The world-building is vague, but somehow that worked for me because I was able to imagine and fill in the gaps as I pleased. Do they 100% resemble any Crowley and Aziraphale that we know? No. But is it a well-written romance that checks off a lot of boxes I enjoy? Yes. There’s angst, but with a happy ending. I think I’ve read this one 3 or 4 times now, which is unheard of for me with an AU.

Slow Show by @mia-ugly

Listen. This. This fic. It’s done something to me. I live for updates on this fic.

Crowley and Aziraphale are co-stars on a Game of Thrones-esque TV show. There’s pining, angst, explicit sex, mentions of past addiction, and somehow, it all comes together in a beautiful story that has me rushing to me computer on Mondays to check and see if it’s been updated. It has wrecked me. The last chapter was a wham and I am desperate for more. I have the utmost admiration for the author because it’s a beautiful, sexy, romantic story and I have never been so eager to read an AU before.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fic #good omens fic rec #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfic rec #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfiction rec

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mercyxkilling · 3 years

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make my character feel loved!

@emptyvictory said: [For the 'make your muse feel loved' meme, which I really tried lol] Niko had never been good with words nor physical affection. He’d say most people didn’t have a kind word to say to him and kept him at arms length, and he was more than willing to do the same in return. Yet, Mercy was different and his opinion of her had shifted very quickly over the last while. More than he really knew how to handle or act on, but things had been getting easier. In his eyes, at least. So, as stiff as he usually was, he managed to pull her into an embrace with an ease that honestly surprised him somewhat. He wrapped his arms tightly around her for a moment as he rested his head against hers. “I am...glad you are here. You have been one of the best people I have met in this city.” And one of the few he had left.

while long periods of silence usually made her paranoid and got her wrapped up in her own thoughts, mercy had learned some time ago to embrace the quiet when she was with niko. not every moment needed to be filled with idle banter, and glad was she that he’d helped her realize that. it certainly took a lot of pressure off of her and the idea that she had to constantly be entertaining, and it had made her realize that he had actually wanted to be there with her, a notion that had taken some time to get adjusted to, to be sure. all too often she found herself buying into what her mother would say about her, that she truly wasn’t good for much of anything, despite how she might have portrayed herself to the rest of the world. it had made her wonder about the company she kept. who stayed with her because they wanted what she could give them and who stayed because they genuinely wanted to be around her?

funnily enough niko had been one of the few people that didn’t seem to want to just use her for her connections or to see what he could get out of her, despite the fact that their relationship had began as a business transaction essentially. he had still stuck around after the work was done and steadily their partnership evolved and grew into something else entirely, and while she wasn’t certain of what it was that she felt or where it was going, she knew that he was one of the few people that didn’t make her feel as if she were just someone or something to be used and cast aside. he stayed with her despite all her flaws, even when he saw her at her ugliest (emotionally and physically), and in spite of how much she’d relied on him, niko had never once made her feel like a burden. it was such a refreshing change of pace for her, yet because it was so foreign most of the time mercy didn’t know how to handle any of her feelings. it made everything confusing, frustrating, and so goddamn difficult, and yet... she knew she wanted to hold those feelings close all the same, as if they were the single most precious treasure on the face of the planet. no one else had treated her the way he had, and no one else had ever made her feel worthwhile. on the other side of that coin, niko had been probably one of the only people mercy had wanted to actually know, rather than simply shove out the door at the end of the day.

he seemed about as awkward and uncertain as she did though, which made everything all the more difficult at times. perhaps that was why his sudden embrace gave her such pause. in fact, it was a gesture that made her audibly gasp, though it was a very quiet sound all the same. it hadn’t even taken a full second though for her to reciprocate, burying her face into his chest as she allowed her eyes to flutter closed as she reveled in the sensation of his arms around her. the sound of his voice enveloped her and his scent brought her a sense of calm and familiarity she hadn’t known before. it was rare that he initiated such contact yet mercy wasn’t going to question it for fear that it’d prevent him from doing it again in the future. she might have wondered what it was that she’d done to provoke such a thing from him, but the sound of his heartbeat was far more appealing than getting caught up in her own head.

“well... i’m happy to be here. and i’m not goin’ anywhere either.”

she moved to press her chin against his chest so she could gaze up at him, taking a moment to fully read his expression and commit it all to memory, though mercy found herself wanting to do that with just about every second she spent with him lately.

“i’m really happy you feel that way. ‘cause honestly? you’re my favorite.”

it was such a simple thing to say, and perhaps it was a little childish, but it didn’t make it any less sincere. it didn’t take any of the weight off of what it meant to her in her heart of hearts. he was at the forefront of her mind more often than not and occupied the unclaimed territory of her heart. how could he not be one of her most favorite people she knew?

#emptyvictory #meme #i'm hungry for whatever comes next ( niko x mercy )#*clutches chest*#i just #love them SO MUCH

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mysticaltigersorceress · 4 years

Text

That Which Will Never Change

Hello! I took part of a server gift exchange, and this is my gift for @mushroomgrenade

This is a scenario with their oc, B. I absolutely fell in love with B while writing this, and yes, I angsted. I'm only sorta sorry xD But hey, I gave it a bittersweet ending though

Length: 2.4k

Characters: B, Izo, Ace, Haruta, Marco, Thatch, Buggy, Shanks, Whitebeard, Oden, Gold Roger, Rayleigh

Warnings: Implied Death/flashback

Ao3: (clickable)

B stepped out of her cabin into the sunlight, relishing the gentle warmth of the early morning sun. The breeze lightly rustled her hair and clothes. What a lovely day to make land.

The Moby Dick had dropped anchor at what presented itself as a calm spring island. (Who knew, knowing the weather stability of the Grandline, perhaps it would start raining spiked hail balls later.) The low rolling hills were covered in young, light green grass and the occasional scrubby bush broke up the neverending landscape. The smell of soil and wildflowers mixed with the salty sea breeze just added to the excitement of being back on land.

Of course, there were still chores and duties to carry out before they got to relax. Everyone had their assignments for what needed to be done first, and B was no exception.

B was just about to disembark when she spotted Ace and Haruta chatting outside of the washrooms. Ace was carrying a Cameko Den-Den Mushi in his hand, trying to hold it inconspicuously behind his back. Both might’ve appeared casual, but something about the way they kept snickering and glancing around told her they were up to something She perked her ears to them but didn't watch them directly so they didn't realize she was onto them.

"Ready to head into town, B?" B nearly jumped in surprise, but smiled since she recognized the voice. She turned and looked up to smile at Izo, who had materialized behind her. She pressed her finger to her lips and slyly pointed in Ace and Haruta’s direction. His brow furrowed as he looked where she pointed and tried to figure out just what she wanted him to see. A slight tilt of his head followed by the slightest grin and she knew he connected the dots.

“Just what are those two up to?"

"If I had to guess, they're up to no good." She chuckled. "Should we check, or wait to see what happens?"

Izo focused his keen eyes on them, and he slowly grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"Let's wait." He smiled down at her, expression as gentle as always.

They sat against the railing together and settled into idle chatter as they waited. It wasn't long until there was a flash of light followed by angry yelling.

"WHO’S IDEA WAS IT?!" Marco bellowed and B couldn't help but laugh as he angrily burst onto the deck. His usually golden blonde hair was now dyed bright purple, and Ace and Haruta were cackling delightedly as they evaded him. Ace and Haruta decided the wisest course of action would be to escape to the island and take off running. Marco transformed his arms into wings and flew after them, hot on their heels.

"Purple looks fairly nice on him," Izo chuckled. Well, they’d relaxed long enough. Time to get to work. Izo led the way down the gangplank, B following just behind him.

"COMING THROUGH!" B checked over her shoulder and lurched out of the way of Shanks and Buggy as they barrelled haphazardly down the gangplank. Buggy was shouting at Shanks as they raced each other up the beach into a vibrant jungle, shoving his face angrily against Shanks' face, but Shanks just laughed as he always did. B shook her head and chuckled at their antics. B turned to comment to Izo, but the beach was clear. Where had Izo gone?

“B, would you mind keeping up with them?” B’s cheeks grew warm, and she turned to the ship at her back. The Oro Jackson had replaced the Moby Dick in the cove, and there on the deck stood Rayleigh. Part of her wondered what happened to the Moby Dick and the other Whitebeard Pirates, but she quickly dismissed it. She was also a member of Roger’s crew. Why shouldn’t she be here with them?

“Sure thing–” A loud crack followed by screaming and crashing came from the jungle just off the shore. “Oh, for goodness sake,” B rolled her eyes and lightly jogged up the beach into the jungle. Oden was rubbing off on those two far too much.

As she searched the foliage for the troublesome apprentices, something felt slightly off, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was. The jungle didn’t give off any immediate signs of danger, nor could she sense any bloodlust toward her.

“Shanks? Buggy? Where did you little brats wander off to?” B yelled into the trees.

“Red nose? Red hair?”

Her voice seemed to fall flat against the trunks. No leaves rustled. There were no animals in the underbrush. No birds in the canopy.

She held still. This was the sound of perfect silence.

Where did everyone go?

B caught a flash of movement in her peripheral vision and whipped around. There was a flicker of orange amidst the green and she bolted after it, nevermind what it was. She should be able to handle it, whatever it was.

B stopped. Where had… whatever it was gone? She watched for a sign of anything living or moving around her. The jungle was eerily still again.

Wait a moment. Which way was the shore? She hadn’t gotten herself lost, had she? A final glance through the foliage and she turned back the way she came. She should get back to her crew! The trees seemed to press closer and closer together as she tried to retrace her steps. Nothing seemed familiar, nor could she see, smell, or hear the sea from where she was. Just how far had she gone into the jungle?

From her left came a rustle and B took up a defensive position. The plants shook; whatever it was drew closer. She started to launch into action but stopped when she recognized the face that poked out.

"Fushichou-chan," B relaxed. “It’s you.” Marco gave her one of his reserved smiles.

"What are you doing out here yoi? The party's already started." He gestured for her to follow him and led her through the trees. She walked close to him, close enough for their shoulders to brush. She didn’t want to get lost again. His hair was still bright purple and looked like an exotic flower had been placed atop his head. She stretched her hand out and ruffled it, chuckling quietly.

“Purple doesn’t look half bad on you,” she teased, laughing at his grumpy expression. He sulked at her laugh and grumbled under his breath about the shampoo that was now wasted due to hair dye being in it. While her gaze was fixed upon him, her foot caught on a root and she went down, throwing her hands out to catch herself. Marco caught the back of her coat before she hit the ground and lifted her up to set her back on her feet.

“Watch your step, yoi.”

“Thanks, sorry,” B mumbled apologetically. Marco responded by taking her hand in his. They continued quietly walking hand in hand, the only sound being their breathing and their feet on the dirt trail they followed.

And then, B heard something. Familiar voices grew in volume, and suddenly the path they were following opened into a large clearing where the Roger and Whitebeard Pirates were throwing a massive party.

There was one massive bonfire in the center of the clearing, but several smaller fires dotted the space surrounding. Wonderful smells and music filled the air, along with plenty of laughter and banter from the two crews. Marco waved to B and went to say hello to Crocus. B wandered into the party, simply happy to be back with her crews’.

Pops, Roger, and Oden sat together around the largest bonfire, bellowing a sea shanty in between eating and drinking. Jozu was wrestling several people all at once and still winning from what B could tell. Vista dueled with Shanks atop a table, both equally cheered on by both crews. Hugs, handshakes, and waves were distributed to her friends as she explored the festivities. But oh, what was that delicious smell?

“Dammit Ace!” B laughed when she saw what Ace was being cursed out for. Thatch was covered in splattered food and dragging Ace out of a large pot of soup, cursing his younger friend for his narcoleptic habits. Thatch laid him on the ground out of the way, where Ace continued to snore while the commander and chef simply shook his head. B joined him in watching Ace. “Of course he had to fall into the soup, couldn’t just fall backward or to the side.” Thatch complained.

B was quick to dip her finger in the soup and smiled when she licked her finger clean. “Don’t worry, he didn’t ruin the flavor.”

“Hands out!” Thatch scolded her but filled her a bowl without hesitation. “Go sit, and save me a seat!”

B parked herself at the nearest fire pit and sat on a log with plenty of room on either side of her. Kingdew, Blamenco, and Rakyuo were already seated around the fire, and they offered her a warm greeting as she joined them. She smiled and waved silently, seeing as her mouth was currently full of soup. Thatch’s soup was definitely her favorite.

They all scootched closer and brought her into their conversation, though she was too busy happily slurping her soup to add too much to their conversation verbally.

“Why didn’t you save me?”

B froze, spoon in her mouth. She whipped around, dread making her chest tight and heavy. Thatch was smiling down at her.

“Why didn’t you save me a seat?” He laughed and took a place across the fire from her, not noticing how shaken B was. Why was she trembling? Everything was okay, right? She couldn’t think of a reason it shouldn’t be.

But his words began to echo in her mind, tumbling and screaming and glitching with static.

Why didn’t you save me? Wh-y ddidn’t y-Ou SavVe mE? wH-Hy di-IdnnN’T YoUUU–

B dropped her soup and rushed to Thatch, grabbing him fiercely by the shoulders as if possessed. She checked him over frantically, looking for something to be wrong. Something was wrong, but what? The feeling of impending horror and doom filled every fiber of her being, clouded any coherent thought she might’ve previously had.

“B, you okay?” He set his own food down and placed his hands over hers, brow’s furrowed in concern. Her eyes met his, and something in her settled just a little bit. She tried to answer, but the words caught in her throat.

Thatch pulled her into a gentle hug, rubbing his hand against her back, and B latched onto him, unsure why she was so upset.

“B, what’s the matter?” She heard Ace yawn behind her. “Thatch, what did you do this time?”

Thatch didn’t answer. He couldn’t, since he didn’t know, but B knew this wasn’t his fault. Somehow, she felt whatever was wrong was her fault. Ace joined them, placing his hand on top of her head, skin impossibly warm as usual. She struggled to find words to describe what was wrong.

“Forgive me,” B whispered after what felt an eternity.

“What?” Thatch and Ace responded in unison, sounding confused. B felt confused herself. What would they need to forgive her for? But something in her told her she needed both of their forgivenesses. She pulled out of Thatch’s hug enough to look at both of them.

“Please,” She begged them. They gave each other odd looks but nodded.

“You haven’t done anything wrong by us,” Ace crouched next to her and Thatch and placed his hand on her shoulder. “There isn’t anything to forgive.”

“And even if you did wrong us, we’d forgive you. Every time.” Thatch assured her.

“You’re our family. We love you, and nothing will ever change that.”

B wrapped an arm around Ace and Thatch and pulled them into a tight embrace which they returned. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply. Their warmth faded, and their bodies sagged against her, limp, heavy and cold. The sounds of the party faded away. Cold wind whipped her face, the smell of death and smoke filled the air. She opened her eyes and found herself kneeling atop the execution platform in Marineford, the destruction of the Summit War spread before her. Bodies and debris litered the ground. And the words echoed again, grating against her whole being.

WHY DIDN’T YOU SAVE US B?

B shut her eyes and dropped the bodies in her arms, avoiding looking directly at them. Her head was screaming at her, and she squeezed her head in her arms, anything to try to relieve the reverberating in her skull.

B jerked awake, breathing erratically. It took her a moment to get her bearings but recognized where she was. She was in a room at Shakky’s bar in Sabaody.

She slowly lifted her head, blinking furiously to get her eyes to adapt to the candlelight. Something was stuck to her cheek, and she carefully peeled it off and held it up to the light. It was a photograph. B must’ve fallen asleep while looking at her old photo’s. She had spread them all across the table. Some were much older than others, evident from the sun-tampered colors. A few were a bit torn, a few were more well-loved than others. Some carried food stains, some carried tear stains. But they all carried precious memories.

In the picture stuck to B’s cheek, Marco’s hair was purple as opposed to his natural blonde. He was chasing Haruta and Ace across the Moby Dick, Pops and everyone laughing in the background. Izo had taken this photo, and B was barely visible in Blenheim’s pocket, bleary from a nap. The prank had left Marco’s hair purple for nearly two months and had given everyone a good laugh.

Other pictures she’d fallen asleep on included Shanks and Buggy faceplanted in the sand after falling off of the beached Oro Jackson, Roger and Oden drunk off their arses and singing and dancing together, and a particular favorite of her, Izo, Thatch and Ace together. (Thatch was carrying a sleeping Ace like a sack of potatoes, and B got a piggy back ride from Izo.)

The dream was fading fast, but the last words were stuck on repeat in her head, like a scratched cd or a broken record.

Why didn’t you save us?

B stood abruptly and dropped the photograph on the table, suddenly aware of how wet her cheeks were. She grabbed her jacket from the bed and started to leave her room. Yet, she wavered when she got halfway out the door. The urge to go somewhere else eventually lost to another voice in her head.

We’d forgive you.

You’re our family.

B hesitatingly approached her desk, and picked up a photo of her family. Pops and all the commanders smiling up at her. Dream Ace and Marco’s voices came back to her.

We love you, and nothing will ever change that.

Nothing would ever change that.

#B #one piece oc #not my oc #my writing #mvwriting #whitebeard pirates #roger pirates #izo #marco #thatch #ace #whitebeard #oden #gold roger #rayleigh #haruta

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ziracona · 4 years

Note

hey zira, what are your hot takes on all of the fo4 companions?

Haha, I don’t know how hot they are, but I can give you a speed run! (Also I am very excited to get this. FO4 was the first open world game I ever played and just the concept of that and the hugeness of the world and branching story & sudden feeling changes towards me in companion characters totally blew my mind, & it still lives rent free in my heart).

Ada, Old Longfellow, and Strong I /still/ haven’t maxed despite having too many hundred hours to want to list on this game—the former bc they were DLC, Strong because honest to god I left him at a nice settlement and then completely forgot about him and remembering that I am the energy in this Ryan O’Flanagan video but abt leaving my super mutant in a tiny settlement alone. I will get there! To max affinity I mean. But anyway, I don’t truly know those three, so my takes are incomplete. So far though, I really like Ada. She is a good girl just trying her best. Fucks me up I can tell her to self destruct. Even though I feel sure she would ignore me, I cannot imagine ever saying that to her. It was really sweet she was willing to forgive the Mechanist and move on with her life. A good girl. Longfellow I am maxing rn (was last time I played anyhow). I enjoy him. Gruff grumpy old man but he seems quite decent and I like his idle banter and when he sings to himself a lot. Seems like he’s had it rough. Strong I liked. He’s wild, and I loved how insane meeting him was, and am worried about him eventually understanding poetry and how that might mess up his sense of world understanding. But he’s a chill dude in his own way and I am glad they gave us at least one nice super mutant.

For the companions I actually do know like the back of my hand, the speedrun:

Nick Valentine: Best man on earth. One of two fictional characters I ever called husband. I would die kill or live for him. I want to be 1/4th the man Nick Valentine is. One of the best characters ever period and I adore literally everything about him. It fucked me up early in game where right after he offered to basically risk destroying his mind to help a stranger look for her son, he asked me how I was doing. First character in the entire game to do that. His first companion dialogue is abt how you’re doing TuT. The man is very kind and forgiving and fair, but knows when the draw the line and take no shit. Emotionally mature, kind, caring, longsuffering. Incredibly damaged and broken by life, but holding on and living kindly and to help others anyway. One of the four most marryablen fictional men I’ve ever seen.

Preston Garvey: Brave, kind, sweet man. I would defend him with my life. He really just wants so bad to make the world better and life has been so hard, but he’s still trying. A beautiful and underrated companion and I would throw hands for him on sight. I adore how he whistles. A true and gentle and loyal friend. Take him to Quincy and let him get his justice it’s what he deserves. People who hate him because he tries to get help helping civilians in that game are weak. I love him so much... please give him enough time to reach max affinity he’s so worth it.

Deacon: *To the tune of You Are My Dad* You are my friiiiend! You’re my friend! (Boogie woogie woogie). Initially, he pissed me off bc he lies all the god damn time, but after we got close enough he actually trusted me, he stole my heart and I would also die for Deacon. He’s a really good person who thinks he’s shit because of who he was on his past. Also him 🤝 Preston: massive survivor’s guilt. They should be friends. Poor Deacon has been the last member of the Railroad like four times, and it’s awful. Help him. Give him love and support. He’s one of my all time faves. Also, Railroad hands down best faction and if you kill them for any reason other than like a walkthrough route video and I ever get the chance I would 100% clock you in the face as hard as I can, like going for losing teeth, and feel no guilt. I know it’s a game and that’s wrong, and I’d be wrong, but I’d still do it. Also, Ryan Alosio (his VA) saw me do cosplay for Deacon once and told me it was great and it filled me with even more love. Anyway Deacon is great. Also, his whole “There are other organisations out there. And, in time, I'm sure they're going to spoon-feed you their own patented form of bullshit. Ignore the verbage and look at what they're doing. What they're asking you to do. What sort of world they'd have you build and how they're going to pay for it.” Is one of the like, two most iconic quotes in all of FO4 & just super good in general.

Hancock: Hardcore badass man but also a good dude and a champion for the people. Man really puts his money where his mouth is and you gotta respect that; another favorite companion for sure. Big fan of the way he stabs a guy for you upon meeting, and is a cool leader who organized his crime and does a decent job actually leading. He works hard to help people and bites back hard. Social justice advocate, dangerous man about town, not afraid to cosplay a revolutionary war hero 24/7 & u gotta respect the no fucks given attitude. A chill dude. Like that he fights the institute, hates the Brotherhood, helps the Railroad, and is friends with Nick. He’s legit af. Also, his VA gives a different answer every time someone asks him about the voice he did for hancock and they’re funny af.

Piper Wright: A cool spunky lady. Lois Lane on the case, kicking butt, and taking name. She’s nice but also hardcore and smart, supportive, fun. A good person. You always get points if you like Nick (which most companions do), and they’re good friends. She’s funny and I love her. A good heart.

Codsworth: He’s great. He’s family. He’s like my...weird brother. Getting to max affinity is heartwarming and also makes my heart go :’-] . Great early-game companion bc he kicks ass and doesn’t need stims to heal. I love getting called by my name and think that was a great feature (well, my PC’s name). He’s a wonderful funky little robot dude and I am so glad he likes me.

Dogmeat: Amazing. A good boy. Doggo of the year. His actor deserved the game award she won. Cute, full of love, and plays with a teddy bear if you give him one. 100/10z

Cait: I like her a lot. She’s been through so much shit, and it makes sense she is how she is. I like they actually gave her an emaciated and messy (though still pretty) design, since she is a drug addict. And that they make her main quest about taking that seriously and wanting to get help, and that she’ll call out the player if they fuck around and do drugs in front of her after she gets rehabilitated. Her relationship to the PC if good is really sweet, and I am a fan. I like that while she’s not sympathetic to synths and thinks they aren’t people, she forgets that every time Nick walks into a room and is like “Oh hey Nicky : )”. She’s a good girl who has been through a lot and still needs time to heal and find herself, but she’s making great strides.

Robert Joseph MacCready: Human disaster (loving). Homeboy a goddamn /mess/ but I love him. He tries so hard to be cool. I love he makes you pay him to come with, then chickens out and gives it back lol. A fool ball of anxiety and bad decisions and what he thinks brovado is. I wish he, Preston, and Deacon would quit fighting, bc I am always like “ :’-] </3 Boys Please” when they swap out, but I love them just the same. He’s doing his best, he’s just stupid and a fool. Like Philip J Fry. Keeping his goddamn soldier toy, which somehow is listed as junk instead of sent to Misc with quest items where it would be fine, safe?parylizes me with fear. I’ve lost 2 hours of gameplay reloading an old save bc I accidentally lost it.

X6-88: A more complex one to answer about. He’s bad, but like, I’m pretty sympathetic to how he got that way. He was created in a lab and had his emotions mostly dragged out of him in intense psychologically damaging training so he would be a weapon and view himself as an object. I was relieved he chose me over the institute even if he wasn’t a fan of the chocie, and think that means there’s a lot of hope for him. Wish he’d chill the fuck out and quit intimidating civilians for 6 god damn seconds, but I like him. I bring him fancy lad snack cakes home from travels all the time, bc Synths are supposed to like them. Really like that he’s the /most/ sympathetic companion towards Danse in Blind Betrayal, even though he should not be programmed for that, and Danse hated him and made it clear any time they interacted.

(EDIT) Curie: I FORGOT HER BABY IM SO SORRY. I like Curie a lot, despite the fact I temporarily forgot she existed. I stg I thought she was in here. Uhhh, okay. Curie: like her character and personality, HUGE un-fan of both the way her desire to get a synth body is to be ‘more real,’ as if Codsworth isn’t a fully realized person while the same robot type she is, instead of just like. Because it would make her happy. ALSO hate how much of a Born Sexy Yesterday she is, even intentionally in not-determinate affinity talks. It’s gross. But her herself, I like a lot. She’s my daughter and I will protect her. She works at The Castle right now as their on-site medic.

Paladin Danse: I know I’m gonna take heat for this but honestly? He didn’t do much for me. I like that he looks and sounds kinda like Buzz Lightyear, and that’s fun, but idk at all why people think he’s so hot. He’s very boring & generic looking to me. Like you’re valid! Taste all be different. But he doesn’t do it for me personally in looks or personality. I don’t at all like, hate him. Or even dislike. Tbh I am fairly neutral on him. It was funny making affinity with him though. Every other companion I had maxed, I liked more and more with each affinity talk. They’d be like “So my dad was a minuteman and died and I want to honor him” or “I just want to really feel like I’m a person, for real, myself, and I am glad I met you, because the good we have achieved together is ours, even if I can’t be sure of anything else,” or “My brother threw the cultural minorities out of our city for clout bc the rich citizens were all racist, and I tried to help—I snuck them food to the unsafe ruins they set up in for weeks, but eventually, they just vanished, and I still bear immense guilt and self-hatred over not having stopped that.” And Danae’s would be like “One time a buddy of mine got kidnapped by super mutants. They turned him into one of them, and they’re all abominations, so I killed him and it made me really sad.” And I was just like “...Oh danse. I really wanted to like you more. But what the fuck.” His relationship to Haylen is sweet though. And ofc I saved him in Blind Betrayal. I blew up the Prydwin so he’s safe now too, and he lives in the garden by my house and tells me how glad he is we’re friends, and I’m p into that. Overall, my feelings on him are not strong at all though.

Porter Gage: Not a fan. Like, I appreciated he helped me kill the old boss, sure. And bc I owed him for that, I went to max affinity to see what there was to him as a person. And like, as far as raiders go, he was okay. But he wasn’t deeply sympathetic, and he’s a slaver, and if you try to liberate the slaves he and the others own, he /will/ turn on and attempt to murder you immediately, no matter how close you were, so he made his choice, and it was to be a bad person and an asshole to the last. Really enjoyed the VA’s work a lot on him tho.

And there you have it 👈👈😎. Thanks for asking!

#ask #anonymous #fallout 4 #fo4 #god I love them so much. I was really proud I kept all the OGs too. everyone but Gage. who had to go but it’s his own choice and fault 🤷🏻‍♀️#GOD far harbor was a good dlc. it’s like the main quest choice again but way more condensed and twice as f ked up. my poor MC had only #come to terms just before with all the lives she took & started healing #doing bad things she did not want to do & knew he would know about and think less of her for doing. but she did them. 😔 bc of course she did #then she had to choose between letting the dude she loved be hurt in a way he wouldn’t recover from & torpedoing her relationship to him by #she loves Nick and if it’s him or her it’s always gonna be her #I was SUFFERING. a lot. but I also loved it #don’t come into my inbox and clown about liking Danse please or Gage. idc at all #like you are welcome to your opinion I’m not gonna try to convince you /not/ to like him. plz do me the same courtesy & respect my right to #have an opinion u may not like

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kessielrg · 3 years

Text

Comeback Kid: Part 2

Summary: More third person additions to the chaos rp that @chibi-mushroom and @animacreates are doing.This time, Sabrina has spontaneously decided to break up with Ventus after what could amount to a nervous breakdown. In the aftermath, she is forced to take all her vacation time and become reacquainted with one of her favorite hobbies. But is it enough to get over Ven, or will the memory of him be too much to ignore?

Rating: K+

Word Count: 2,398

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

One of these days, Sabrina was going to have to ask Brain what the name of his cologne was. In the same breath, she needed to harass him on how much he used on a normal day. The cinnamon scent lingered on the still dryer warm t-shirt she had stolen. It was comforting. For once in her life, she was glad not to be surround by her purple obsession. The scent of lavender may be calming, but at the moment all it was going to do was remind her of the apartment.

And of Ventus.

Good thing Brain wasn't as vain as she was- the only mirror he really had was in the bathroom, attached to the medicine cabinet. If Sabrina had a full body mirror right now, she would have admired just all the ways she could have made Ven jealous. Brain's shirt didn't fall very low on her, but the old leggings she found were enough to cause a direct gaze to her butt. She was almost confident with herself again. Almost. Purposely being alluring to someone didn't mean the same if you didn't actually have someone to allure.

Sabrina grimaced to herself in the mirror, fluffing her hair a bit for something to do. She couldn't look herself in the eye. The last time she looked at herself in a mirror was when she skipped out on Ven. It's only been a day, and it still made her flinch. She had to leave the bathroom before she started to panic again. She went to the living room to find Brain sitting on his couch. The TV showing off some livestream on how to jailbreak a certain console. Sabrina walked up and placed her arms on the back of the couch.

“Could you hold off on being a blatant nerd? You're not even paying attention to it.”

Brain laughing, craning his neck to look up at her. “My house, my rules.” he told her. Then he got a good look at what she was wearing, and laughed. “And here I thought I was done with girls stealing my shirts.”

Sabrina let out a loud, incredibly fake gasp. “You had a sex life? Wow!”

“I could have told you about her if you had just asked. We dated for about a year. Not that I think I would have let you two share a room- you'd scare her.”

“I scare a lot of people. It's not even a challenge anymore.” Sabrina smirked. She moved around to sit next to him. Once she was comfortably sitting, she then asked, “So she was a good one?”

“Very good.” Brain agreed with a wide, incredibly fond, grin. Sabrina immediately recognized it as a grin of true love and scoffed.

“Oh shush, you.” her brother teased, forcing her to lay her head on his chest. She struggled for a moment out of annoyance. When she finally gave up, that was when Brain removed his hand from her head. Instead of sitting back up, though, she remained leaning on him. Brain did pick up the remote to change the TV setting so they could watch something on live broadcast. From there, the duo sat in a peaceful silence.

During the change between shows, Brain laid his head against Sabrin'as in thought.

“Hey Wabi-Sabi.” he mused. His voice was rather soft.

“Yeah?” she replied, her attention not leaving what was on the television.

“Do you remember, back before old Oz took us in, and we tried to spend a night out on the playground at Walt Memorial Park?”

Sabrina shifted a bit in her spot. Her face slightly darker than before as she asked, “Was that before or after the time we almost got caught by some officer around 2 AM?”

“You know what? I think it was that day.” Brain snorted. “But way before that, before the sun went down. Do you remember what we talked about?”

Admittedly, she had to close her eyes to try to remember. They nearly snapped open again as she realized, “It was about Mom, wasn't it? Why she left us.”

Brain gave her a solemn nod. “Not going to lie Sabi, I bluffed about a lot of that stuff. I wasn't there when Mom made the choice. I barely understood that she was the one who even made the choice to keep us together. Back then, I just assumed that they kept siblings together because who wouldn't? But I had to tell you something that night. You had just run away from another family. You were dead convinced that you couldn't be loved.''

“Why are you telling me this?”

“No reason,” he informed her with a grin. “Just thinkin' out loud, I guess.”

“Liar.” she spat, purposely using her elbow to poke at his side. Brain didn't refute the notion. If anything, he just laughed.

“So,” Brain then said, “What's your game plan for the next month? Oswald cashed in all that overtime and vacation pay you had. I can't see you just jogging between here and the old man's house everyday.”

“Shows what you know.” his sis huffed. “Just for that, I think I'm going to have you personally move all my stuff here.”

“What are you doing with the apartment, speaking of?” Brain asked.

“I don't know.” she admitted in a half grumble. “I'd let the lease run out, but that's still for another four months.”

“You really think you two will apologize between that time?”

Sabrina didn't answer. Instead, her face twisted into one of absolute disgust.

“Never said that.” she hissed.

“Sure, sure.” Brain laughed. “Just don't want you sitting at home with old Hollywood movies and ice cream, that's all.”

“Do you not know me at all?” Sabrina demanded, shoving him with enough force to make him move like a bobblehead for a moment. Brain's mirth did not let up. Sabrina gave her brother another disgusted grimace, but his words stuck with her.

Later on, while debating if she should clear her phone of certain numbers, Sabrina stopped scrolling through to see the name of her ex-boyfriend, Max. Max had been her first serious boyfriend, and they had managed to stay on good terms after the breakup. Sabrina made a single second choice, leading to her listening to the phone ring over as she waited for him to answer. She felt kinda dumb while waiting- was she really that self centered to think tha Max would have the time to even...

“Hey Max.” Sabrina greeted, almost in surprise, when he picked up the phone. “Yeah, I know it's been awhile. That's actually why I'm calling. You want to go to that little tea shop on Main Street tomorrow? I get it if you have other places to be since it's last minute...”

There was just one thing she could always count on in Max; he was patient when the situation called for it. Hearing him on the other end brought up a sense of relief she got from only a select few individuals.

“Thanks Max.” she sighed. “I just… need someone to talk to someone that isn't family. Yeah, I'm fine. Really. I'll tell you more later. Bye.”

Sabrina let out a long sigh. Well, that was one bandaid ripped off. Now to deal with the other; getting new clothes.

. . .

This island really was kinda small when you thought about it. She just hoped that no one Ventus knew would recognize her. Then again, the clothes she bought yesterday were darker colors meant to blend in with the crowd. If they managed to recognize her, hopefully she'd be long gone before they could flag her down. Seeing Max casually checking his phone outside the tea shop brought Sabrina a massive sigh of relief.

“Hey Max!” she shouted at him. He looked up and grinned at seeing her.

“Hey stranger.” he greeted with a grin. Once they were close enough they shared a rather heartfelt hug. “You wearing heels today? I knew you had legs for days, but I could've sworn you were shorter than this.”

“Nice try.” Sabrina smirked. She stood a bit taller over the fact that Max was several inches shorter than her. His height was perfect when they were dating- considering what he was nearly in direct eye line of. “You know I've never worn heels around you.”

“I used to be taller than you.” he jokingly pouted.

“Yeah,” she snorted. “For a whole summer.”

Max went into a laugh that was so light and joyful that Sabrina gave a small half smile. Bouncing more banter off each other, the duo headed on into the tea shop. Max found them a corner table near a back window.

“Anything look good?” Sabrina asked as they looked over the menu.

“Haven't had a tea party since I was swindled into one as a kid.” Max mused. “So I guess whatever you want to eat, and I'll take a cup of coffee.”

“How come you're only really adventurous when it comes to extreme sports?” Sabrina teased as she flagged down a waiter.

“Hey, if it's not broke, don't fix it.”

Sabrina just shook her head with a roll of her eyes.

“Welcome to Hightopp & Kingsleigh!” the server girl greeted. “May I recommend the earl grey this afternoon? Fresh from the pot!”

“No thanks.” Sabrina callously told her with a flick of her wrist. “We'll take a pot of peppermint rooibos, a baker's dozen of ladyfingers, and a single black coffee.”

“Sure thing!” the server girl agreed, writing it down on the notepad before heading to the back kitchen.

Sabrina and Max continued to have idle talks with themselves while they waited. There was no one else in this world that Sabrina could tolerate meaningless talks than with Max. They both said whatever was on their mind as it came. Thankfully, time away meant that they had plenty to reflect on. Unfortunately, it meant that at some point, current matters were going to be brought up as well.

She should have really asked to have a refill of hot water for the tea pot before even breathing Ventus's name.

“You just left him?!”

Sabrina groaned as she rubbed her temples. “Yeah...” she groaned. “His dad… I just hate his dad so much, Max. Then he started talking about marriage, and trying to convince Ven into whatever shady deal he's got going next, and it was just… Just…!” She looked up at Max to give a gesture of strangling an invisible neck, and it was enough to convey the message.

“All because your least favorite coworker was getting married as well?”

“And, like, everyone else around us! Ven's brother, two other guys from the station. How about we just chill for a hot second and realize that a ring isn't the only indicator of a good relationship?”

“You really should have gotten chamomile.” Max noted as he watched Sabrina take a rather long slip of her tea.

“Peppermint's better for stress.” she shot at him.

“If you say so,” Max replied, throwing his hands in the air to show innocence. Sabrina glared at him, but relented with a heavy sigh. Max looked her over. She had gone back to rubbing her temples and muttering rather unkind things under her breath. He had never really seen her in conflict before- or at least, this much conflict. Which meant he had to ask. Someone had to.

“Would things really change that much if you did marry him?”

Sabrina clung to the side of her head, her fingers clenching in her hair.

“No.” she finally admitted in a small grumble. “Just a different check box to fill when tax season comes around. It's the only excuse I can really think of. We're already living together, have at least one joint bank account because of it, and all that domestic bliss. We even have a chore chart, like a bunch of kids.”

“So what's holding you back?”

Sabrina grimaced -her teeth grinding- as her whole body tensed. Carefully, Max placed a hand on her arm. She looked up at him with the sole intention of smacking him away. But in seeing his sincere expression, she nearly started crying.

“Maxie,” she quietly told him “Is it bad I'd rather give him a kid than tie the knot?”

“Definitely unorthodox.” he mused with a solemn nod. “Maybe they feel like less of an obligation? You know the deal; some parents just drop their kids off to whoever, or just don't pay attention to them. Then they turn around and brag they're the best parents ever.”

“I can't do that to him.” she heavily sighed. “I just can't. And even then, I don't think I'm ready for a kid. Or any drama that happens during or after the pregnancy. Maybe when I'm 30? But doing so now just makes me sick.”

“Ah,” was all Max could say. He went into thought over this development. When a new idea came to him, he snapped his fingers as if he had solved a major mystery. “You said Oswald's making you take the next month off from work, right? Maybe it's time for a change.”

“Max,” Sabrina told him, even rather condescendingly placing a hand on top of his. “I am not going full Britney Spears and shaving my hair off. The mental breakdown was enough.”

“No,” he laughed, “Nothing like that. Look, you used to love dancing. Right? Roxanne is a teacher at the local dance studio. She mostly teaches the younger kids, but she's been itching for private lessons in her off time. Go take the edge off a bit. Do some pivots off the mirror, or spin around a lamppost for a hot second. Be that dramatic princess I know you are. Be yourself. I mean, it's not like Oswald's gonna let you head back into work right away anyway. Might as well make the most of it.”

“Next you'll be telling me that I should start writing a novel.”

“Well, I mean, if that's what you need...”

It hurt, but Sabrina forced herself to laugh. She looked up at Max and just smiled.

“I can't believe I know a lot of good guys.” she laughed, leaning over a bit to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Thanks Maxie.”

Max let out a shy little laugh as his face lit up a scarlet red.

#writing #writing stuff #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #kh fanfiction #kingdom hearts fanfiction #fanfic #kh fan fic #fan fiction #fan fic

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iron-touch · 3 years

Text

My Name is Cab Cavazo

TWO YEARS AGO...

As she was the CFO of a successful marketing company and he was almost always out of the house at soccer practice or a training session with his boxing coach, Cab often had little time to spend with his mother. That being said, they were as close as a parent and child could be—being a single mother often had that effect on their sons.

Though what little free time they had together was often made up of one or both of them being exhausted from the rest of their day, there was always time set aside just for the two of them. Whether it be a simple game of chess or a going out to lunch or the rare occasions she would convince her son to get a pedicure with her; they always made sure this time was well spent.

Hiking was usually Cab's preferred way to spend time with just about anyone, including his mother, and she thought it was a great source of exercise. Naturally, they ended up traversing forested trails often. The two of them usually filled the air with idle banter, with him rambling about school, sports, and spicy schoolyard secrets while she would complain about cussed coworkers.

On that day, however, he was completely silent.

He didn't mean to be. There was a lot to talk about, after all. It was his senior year of high school—finals were rapidly approaching, he needed to make a choice about where he would be going to college, and find a cute girl to ask out to prom. Yet all of those issues were dwarfed by his main concern: he didn't feel passionate about sports anymore. It was what he was good at, it was what he was expected to do; but whenever he scored a goal or landed a knockout lately, he didn't feel the same rush of adrenaline and pride in himself that he used to. He only felt apathetic to it all.

Besides, the only reason that he was good at either of those things was because he had special abilities that no one else had.

"What's bothering you?" She asked the question after about 15 minutes of hiking in complete silence.

Pulled from his thoughts, Cab suddenly became aware of the world around him; underneath his feet were crunching leaves, blowing past his body was the chill of a faint breeze, and above his head were the birds chirping in the trees. He turned to his mother and mustered up the best lie that he could.

"Nothing's bothering me," he asserted.

His mother folded her arms at him and raised a brow. "Cab. I know you better than that. If you're being this quiet, then something's on your mind." They each took one big step up a small incline and brushed back some stray leaves that stuck out from the shrubs in front of them, revealing a cliff with a breathtaking view of the rest of the forest. This was nothing new, they had hiked this trail several times before, but seeing the murky pink sky over the trees as the sun fell below the horizon was enough to ease his mind just a bit. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I'm your mother."

Cab groaned and sat down next to her, the flaky dirt sticking to his jeans. No point in continuing to hide it. "I don't know if I want to keep doing sports," he confessed.

The loud gasp that his mother responded with made him want to rip his hair out. "What do you mean you don't want to keep doing sports? You've been doing them your whole life. Why stop now?"

"I don't know," he sighed with a shrug. "I just don't really have fun doing them anymore. There's no challenge in it."

"That's because you're so good at them." She leaned over and pinched his cheek. "Is it soccer or boxing that you don't want to keep doing?"

"Both."

She tilted her head to the side. "What ever happened to wanting to be the heavyweight champion? You've been going on since you were a little kid that you wanted to be the next Buster Douglas."

Biting his lip, Cab carefully considered his words. I win every fight and every match because of Quiet Riot. There's no challenge in it anymore. I'm just going through the motions. That was what he wanted to say, but how the hell was he supposed to explain Quiet Riot to her? Oh, I've had this compass ghost follow me around for as long as I can remember that no one else can see or touch. He scratched his neck. Maybe he could give her a demonstration of Quiet Riot's ability? How would she react then? Would she panic and run? Call him a freak of nature? Just the thought made Cab feel nauseous.

"People change, Mom," he responded, "and I just don't think that soccer or boxing would make good career paths. What about when I'm 40? Or 50? I need to find something more financially stable than being a sports star." That was the best excuse he could muster up, and he was quite proud of it. With her being a businesswoman, surely she could sympathize with it.

"Well, you know how I've always felt about boxing." They both recalled the days of his youth, when she would scold him for sneaking out of the house on weekends to beg regulars at the local gym to teach him how to fight. One day, she finally relented and signed him up for professional lessons after one of said gym regulars followed him back to the house and refused to leave. "But I don't think you should give up soccer. If you do well at the game next week, I really think you could get a full ride scholarship to college. You've got one hell of an aim with your feet. It's like it's your destiny to play soccer." She affectionately nudged him. "You're destined for great things, Cab."

Cab rested his head in his hands. She could have a point. It wasn't like everyone had their own Quiet Riot that could help them aim their shots.

"Speaking of the game tomorrow," she continued, "are you nervous? Excited? I'm excited! I'm sure you'll do great, honey." She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. "Are you inviting your father to come?"

"Why would I invite him?" Cab rolled his eyes. "I haven't spoken with him in years now. You know that."

"I know, I know. I just figured that you might want him to come, considering it's going to be one of your last big games before you go off to college."

"It's just another game," he replied with a shrug. "He cheated on you and walked out on us. I don't see any reason to keep in contact with him."

"He is your father," she justified. "No matter what any of you do, that will never change. For what it's worth," her face lit up like a candle, the tone of her voice suddenly much lighter, "I certainly wouldn't mind seeing him again."

"Stockholm syndrome," Cab muttered under his breath. Gazing out to the sky, he considered her words. Sure, he was his father, but why did that matter? The man hadn't done anything fatherly for him since he was 10. It had been longer than he could remember since he had received any letters from him, the ones that used to ask him how he was doing in school or when his next game was, worded so eloquently that he always assumed that his mistress had written them out of pity. The crescent moon peeked out from the trees, the sun barely visible anymore. He pulled away from his mother's embrace and stood up. "Come on, let's start heading back. It's getting late."

She nodded and pushed off from the ground as she attempted to stand up. Clumps of grass and dirt crumbled beneath her hands and descended off the cliff into the forest below. Having lost her balance, her body lurched forwards, carried by the force she had put in her hands. She threw her body back and tried to grab onto the ground, but it only collapsed under her weight. A panicked scream left her lips as she fell off the cliffside.

Cab outstretched both his and Quiet Riot's arm out in an attempt to catch her, but she had already fallen out of reach. A few seconds later, he heard a loud THUD! somewhere very far below him. He felt the color drain from his face.

"MOM!"

~~~~~

THREE MONTHS LATER...

"Martin..."

That was the only word that Cab's mother had uttered since she entered her coma, and it was the name of her ex husband.

Not once did she mutter Cab's name, and she barely responded to any input from him. Even after he stopped attending school and skipped out on all his other commitments just to be with her (to the chagrin of his teammates), the only reaction he got out of her were occasional eyelid twitches, her pupils shifting under them when he spoke to her. Even as he squeezed her hand in his through her full-body cast and tearfully babbled out "I love you, you're going to wake up soon, everything's going to be okay," on repeat for hours on end, she never said anything else aside from his father's name.

Cab didn't need to be a relationship expert to know that she was still in love with him, even if he had fallen out of love with her long ago. He couldn't see why; not only had he cheated on her, but he was rude, argumentative, and self-absorbed. Having him out of the house had only improved their lives. Gone were the noise complaints from neighbors when he would scream at them just to show off how loud his voice was, the disdained grumbles when he overheard Cab listening to his favorite songs on the radio, and the long nights of his mother sobbing herself to sleep when he spent the night at another woman's house. The day that he packed his bags and left was one of the best days of Cab's life.

Yet, as she fell closer and closer to death's door, she called out the name of her emotionally abusive ex-husband and not her baby boy.

She didn't have much time left—the way that her doctors always avoided eye contact with him told him that much. The turning point came when one of them tapped him on the shoulder and said: "don't get your hopes up," on their way out the door. The doctor kept his eyes focused ahead of him, rather than on the grieving son below.

If she really wanted her last moments to be with him, then so be it. So it was how Cab found himself in front of his father's home.

It was a dingy place, really. One story with a flat roof covered in leaves, a bland gray paint job that had begun to chip off, the garden so overgrown that Cab couldn't see his own feet as he walked to the door. Surely this couldn't be the address of his prideful father. He double checked the address. Had he really spent months digging through phone books and real estate listings just to get the wrong address?

No. There couldn't be two idiots named Martin Cavazo. Not to mention the orange Pontiac Firebird, his pride and joy, that was parked in the driveway.

Cab pounded on the door. "Hey, Martin! It's me, Cab. You know, your son? I need to talk to you about something."

The door creaked open under the force of Cab's fists. Whatever obscenity he had lined up to say caught in his throat. Why had the door been left unlocked? Martin was a lot of things, but forgetful wasn't one of them. Cab vividly remembered being scolded by him whenever he failed to unlock the door after coming home from school. As eager as he was to add "hypocrite" to his father's long list of toxic traits, he proceeded through the door, closing it behind him.

Though he wasn't sure what he was expecting from the inside of the house, it certainly wasn't this. It somehow looked smaller on the inside than it did on the outside. Only a dirty kitchen with flies hovering over half-eaten plates of steak to the left; a living room in the middle with only a broken recliner, bulky CRT, and numerous empty beer bottles strewn about the floor; and a couple of doors to the left. One was halfway open and lead to the bathroom, while the other Cab assumed went to the bedroom. Dust hung in the air like pollen in spring, coating just about every surface in the house. It nearly made him cough up is lungs as he entered the house. There was also something to the left that reeked worse than anything Cab had ever smelled before. He would've assumed that it was coming from the bathroom, but whatever it smelled like, it didn't smell like feces. Perhaps a dead rat had gotten stuck in the plumbing?

Obviously, the house looked abandoned, or at the very least like it had not been maintained in a long time. Cab's shoulders fell at the prospect of another dead end. No way in hell he'd leave his house like this, he reasoned as he walked forwards, dust rising from the floor with every step he took, he must've skipped on the bills and had no choice but to jump ship. But if that were the case, why would he leave the Firebird out in the driveway?

Since the house was so small, Cab figured that he could gleam just about everything about the kitchen and living room just from his initial impressions of them. They were filthy and cluttered with trash, but he doubted that he could find any clues under piles of beer bottles and dirty dishes. He turned to the left and surveyed the two doors in front of him. The door to the bathroom was slightly ajar, and through it he couldn't see anything peculiar. Just a sink with an old shaving razor resting on the countertop and the edge of a toilet. There was still the smell, however, and if there really was a dead rat or something similar clogging the drains, he'd rather investigate it as a last resort.

The second door, however, was firmly shut, revealing no details about the bedroom. That was probably the best place to start his search. Hell, maybe Martin was passed out drunk on the bed, too lazy to get off his ass and maintain the house on his own now that he didn't have a woman to do it for him. Cab gently opened the door.

"Dad, are you in—"

The last thing he remembered seeing before fainting was Martin's limp body laying on the bed with a bloody crevasse in place of a head and a shotgun in his lap.

~~~~~

Cab hadn't remembered how much time had passed since that day. He could still see his father's decaying corpse in his mind's eye like it was still in front of him.

Even after what must've been more than a year now, the turn of events felt surreal. First his mother fell off a cliff and fell into a coma, then he quashed his opportunities at a college scholarship by wasting three months of his life trying to track down his ghost of a father, only to find his actual dead body and to be told not long afterwards that his mother had passed while he was away. Despite legally being an adult at that point, Uncle Roger had offered to look after him until he could get back on his feet. Cab didn't even know if he was still there or not. He never left his room long enough to find out.

How could something so horrible happen to a kid like him?

That was all he could think about since that day. Could this be some sort of cruel punishment? Some justice for an evil deed he had committed? But what, Cab wondered, have I done that could possibly deserve this? His entire life played through his mind at a snail's pace. There was that time when he was five when he pulled down his neighbor's pants at the park. There was the time when he was nine when he made fun of his substitute health teacher so badly that she nearly threw her shoe at him. There was the time when he was fifteen and stole the car one night to go to a party then wrecked it on the way home. And of course, that said nothing of the countless other boys he had Quiet Riot demolish in the ring. Was all of that combined really the equivalent to watching his mother fall to her doom and walking in on his father's suicide?

No, he realized, that can't be it. There are men out there much eviler than I am who haven't endured half the amount of pain that I have.

Then what? Was it just bad luck? Some malevolent God out there who deemed him to be a worthy punching bag? He scoffed at what his mother told him: "you're destined for great things, Cab." Like what destiny had ended up giving him was some great reward.

You're wrong, Mom. He stood up and opened the window, letting the crisp outside air blow against his face. This wasn't my destiny. This wasn't anyone's destiny. We chose to go hiking on that trail that day. Dad chose to kill himself. There isn't any outside force controlling us. We're all victims of our own free will.

After all, how could fate be real when it had dealt him such a bad hand?

He stared at his reflection in the window. Heavy bags weighed his eyes down, matted curls hung over his face, his once bold muscles nearly deflated. He hardly recognized himself. If "destiny" was so keen to make him this way, then why should he bend over and take it?

I'm choosing to be miserable, he decided. Without a second thought, he set his shoulders back and fully opened his eyes. Not anymore. I'm going to find myself.

The next morning, he packed his bags and left, determined to do just that.

~~~~~

IN THE PRESENT...

I remember that she was a little confused as to why I didn't tell her for so long, but other than that she was happy that I had a Stand of my own.

Among the waterfall of bullshit about curses and fate that spilled from her mouth the day before, that was the one line from Michelle's monologue that Cab connected to. She had the guts to tell her mother about her Stand, despite the fact that her mother wasn't a Stand user. Now Cab could only dream about having the same opportunity. No matter how much he told himself that it's different, her dad was a Stand user too, it didn't change the regret that simmered in his heart as the sentence played over and over again in his head like a broken record.

Staring at her now, as she begrudgingly played tour guide to Sara on their way to Paris' border, he couldn't help but feel jealous.

"Hey, Michelle." He meant to address her more delicately, but it came out as more of a statement than anything.

Jaw clenched after hearing the assertiveness in his voice, she turned her head to him.

"What was it like to have a mom who knew you were a Stand user?"

Michelle furrowed her brow at the question and studied his face like a map. "Why do you ask?"

He bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck. "No particular reason."

#iron touch #my name is

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thebowerypresents · 4 years

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POSITIVE SPINS: NEW ARTISTS, NEW ALBUMS, AND NEW LIVE STREAMS THAT PUT OUR 2020 ON A BETTER TRACK

2020 proved to be one of the hardest years we have collectively gone through. While we didn’t have live music to lean on when times got tough, these are the albums, artists and livestreams that got us through the rough patches and will carry us into a brighter 2021.

Listen to our playlist of Positive Spins!

BEST NEW ARTISTS OF 2020 (in no particular order)

THICK

“Brooklyn-based pop-punk three-piece, THICK, are not afraid to say (or sing) what’s on everyone’s mind - with a fierceness and confidence I can only aspire to assume. Sticking it to the establishment is the name of their game - take “Mainsplain,” for instance - and they manage to do so with catchy chord progressions and an uplifting vigor. I can’t wait to see what’s next for the trio, and who else they’ll put in check.” - S. D.

Ela Minus

“Brooklyn-based techno-pop artist Ela Minus broke onto the scene this year with her debut album “ acts of rebellion.” The Colombian-born musician has a background in emo bands, is a trained jazz drummer, and she wrote, produced, engineered, and recorded the album on her own. “acts of rebellion” is moody and sultry, while still making you want to grab your friends and dance.” - K. C.

Arlo Parks

“Without even having released her debut album yet, Arlo Parks has made a name for herself this year. Singles released throughout the year, paired with 2019’s EP ‘Sophie’ and her slot as support on Hayley Williams’ (cancelled) tour have boosted Arlo to a new level this year, that we can only assume will continue to rise in 2021 when her debut album drops.” - K. C.

Beabadoobee

“Beabadoobee’s interesting name is only matched by her sound - bedroom-pop fused with nineties indie-rock, tinged with a tender, DIY aesthetic. Her track “If You Want To” will have you singing along, while her single “She Plays Bass” will take you back to your hormonal, vulnerable, teenage years met with sublime nostalgia. She’s without a doubt a silver lining in 2020.” - S. D.

BENEE

“I first saw Auckland’s BENEE at Rough Trade in October of last year - her sincere, to-the-point lyrics and quirky hooks instantly hooked me. You may know her track, “Supalonely,” which found popularity on TikTok during the height of lockdown, but BENEE’s sound isn’t limited to the confines of one social media trend. In her debut album released this year, BENEE displays an uncanny ability to tackle alt-rock, hip-hop and electro-pop all at the same time, in an unbothered, endearing way - making her a “one to watch” in 2020 and beyond.” - S. D.

Christian Lee Hutson

There isn’t a lack of acoustic singer-songwriters out there, but Christian Lee Hutson is an important new voice. Hutson first full length album, “Beginners,” released this year, has a warm and honest quality to it. The production is subtle (thanks to producer Phoebe Bridgers), and so perfectly complements a simple, acoustic narrative. The result is a soulful, beautiful, and special work of music. - S. D.

Do Nothing

“2020 newcomers out of Nottingham, UK, Do Nothing have already made a big splash in the post-punk world. Releasing their first EP, Zero Dollar Bill, earlier this year, the band have been compared to Idles and are setting out on a similar path of success. Upon first hearing their earlier single Lebron James, countless fans are sure to be sucked into the world of Do Nothing.” - K. C.

Kate Bollinger

“I first listened to Kate Bollinger when she released I Don’t Wanna Lose in 2019. I played the track Candy on repeat all year long. It has been so lovely to watch her grow into the artist she is today. This year she released an EP called A word becomes a sound, which quickly became one of my favorite releases of 2020. Her voice is so comforting. Whenever I listen, I feel like I am being coddled in a fluffy blanket with a cup of herbal tea and nothing could go wrong at that moment. I can’t wait to see what Kate has planned for 2021 and beyond!” - L. S.

SAULT

“After a year of intense racial unrest in the United States, SAULT’s importance is more significant now than ever. With themes focusing around the Black Lives matter movement, this mystery soul-funk group has become more than buzzy in the music scene, and has earned a spot on tons of year end lists.” - K. C.

Sorry

“London-based genre-defying band Sorry released their debut album ‘925’ this year, produced by James Dring (Gorillaz, Jamie T) which is already reason enough to pique the interest of most. The album certainly does not disappoint, with each song giving you a different taste of the many interesting sides of this up-and-coming group.” - K. C.

Honorable Mentions:

Gracie Abrams Remi Wolf Hailey Whitters KennyHoopla Jade Hairpins Jockstrap Model/Actriz Mild Orange Your Smith Neal Francis

BEST NEW ALBUMS OF 2020 (in no particular order)

Fiona Apple – Fetch the Bolt Cutters

“Fiona Apple is fearless in this album. The song structures and sounds take you on a listening experience I can only describe as emotional in the best way. Eight years of waiting was totally worth it.“ - S. D.

Fleet Foxes – Shore

“This album had been bright spot in a difficult year. St. Ann’s Church was the perfect location for their Colbert performance of Can I Believe You and the live stream will be the perfect holiday present. Ready to feel all the feels!” - K. A.

Khruangbin - Mordechai

“Khruangbin is one of my go-to bands, and “Mordechai” has been heavy in my rotation in 2020. It’s really a great album – I play it cover-to-cover and pairs well with a cocktail and cooking at home, infusing some needed spice and energy in what could otherwise be ‘just another night’ during a long, monotonous several months.” - C.M.

Moses Sumney - Græ

“The highly anticipated second album from Moses Sumney, shows us more of the highly personal, raw and emotionally moving music we have some to expect from him. The cluster of emotions that Moses works through with his beautifully unique voice in this 20 song album give us a look into the complicated mind of one of the most interesting artists of the last 5 years.” - K. C.

Perfume Genius – Set My Heart On Fire Immediately

“*Bill Hader’s Stefan voice* this album has everything! From the heavy and distorted bass on “Describe” to the melodic harp stringing of “Leave,” to the dance ballad (is that a thing?) “On The Floor,” Perfume Genius’ album Set My Heart on Fire Immediately really does have it all. Each song feels vastly different from the next in tone, instrumentation, and influence – yet they all come together so perfectly to make this stunning album, all while showcasing his vocal depth and range. There’s a reason he’s called Perfume *Genius*, and that is because Mike Hadreas can take familiar feelings and turn them into unconventional pop ballads that feel both relatable, but new and exciting at the same time.” - R. E.

Phoebe Bridgers – Punisher

“How does Phoebe do it? (a question I ask myself daily). I remember waking up on June 18 as if it was my birthday. Punisher is everything I hoped for and then some more. The last song on the album, “I know The End” concludes with a scream which is the perfect cherry on top to this masterpiece. This album is a rollercoaster of Phoebe’s emotions and I feel blessed to be along for the ride. It is relatable, heartfelt and honest. Thank you to Phoebe for this gift. The world will never be the same after this.” - L. S.

Rina Sawayama - SAWAYAMA

“SAWAYAMA is the early 2000s pop resurgence we didn’t know we needed, mixed with all the best parts of nu-metal. Rina Sawayama uses catchy pop hooks reminiscent of early Britney Spears, and pairs them with heavy guitar riffs to give us arguably the most fun album of 2020 that we cannot wait to experience live.” - K. C.

Tame Impala – The Slow Rush

Thundercat - It Is What It Is

“I love how this album embraces the darkness while managing to find the light in despair - it seems to acutely reflect the times we are in yet is simultaneously so personal to Bruner. The lyrics are set against a backdrop of funk, electronica, jazz, and soul, so there’s a little something for everybody.” - S. D.

Waxahatchee - Saint Cloud

“This album was released early in quarantine, and was the perfect musical escape during some of the toughest days. The imagery and reflection of the lyrics are why Saint Cloud tops my list of albums of 2020.” - J. F.

Honorable Mentions: The Beths – Jump Rope Gazers Fontaines DC - A Heros Dream Kevin Morby – Sundowner Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit – Reunions My Morning Jacket - The Waterfall II CHIKA - Industry Games Megan Thee Stallion - Suga Christian Lee Hutson- Beginners Idles- Ultra Mono Sturgill Simpson - Cuttin Grass Pup - This Place Sucks Ass Futurebirds- Teamwork Adrianne Lenker – Songs / Instrumentals Tom Misch, Yussef Dayes - What Kinda Music + the bonus tracks EP Some Kind Of Peace – Olafur Arnalds Tyler Bryant and the Shakedown - Pressure Josh Ritter - See Here, I Have Built You a Mansion Sahara Moon - Worthy Local H - Lifers Deep Purple - Whoosh! Indigo Girls Look Long Taylor Swift - folklore Against All Logic – 2017-2019

TOP TEN LIVESTREAMS 2020 (in no particular order)

Christine & The Queens (Live on KEXP at Home)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3bavZe47um4

“Live on KEXP at Home” was home to some of my favorite quarantine livestreams, and this one did anything but disappoint. Not only does Chris, aka Christine & The Queens, perform, but interviews are woven throughout the livestream. The drama of her performances, juxtaposed with her witty and humorous banter with the interviewer was such a breath of fresh air. If you’re a fan of Chris, this is a must watch.“ - S. D.

Courtney Barnett and Lucius & Friends: Live From Our Lounge Rooms with Sheryl Crow, 3/25/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbfRbw3o1jU

“This was a gift that kept on giving. The stream started off with Courtney Barnett and Lucius in matching pajamas. I truly thought it could not get any better but I was in for a treat! The stream included performances by Nathaniel Rateliff, Sheryl Crow, Sharon Van Etten, Waxahatchee, Kevin Morby and more. I can safely say this was my favorite live stream I watched in 2020.” - L. S.

Julien Baker, Themfest Instagram Livestream, 4/16/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tINSbY4wRjs

“Recorded for Themfest during the early days of quarantine, Julien Baker’s in-home livestream was a welcome respite from the Cuomo briefings and general despair of mid April. Just kidding, Julien Baker is the queen of Sad Shit and I certainly didn’t tune into this livestream expecting a mood boost. But if you subscribe to the “sad songs make me feel better” aesthetic purveyed by our sweet little siren, this moody, intimate shot-on-iphone set will scratch that itch. But let’s not fool ourselves, nothing will ever replace the feeling of holding your breath along with 1,799 others at Brooklyn Steel while JB rips your heart out, in a nice way.” - E. M.

Kurt Vile, Love From Philly Livestream, 5/3/20 (covers John Prine’s “Sam Stone” near the end)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pjKG-7d5loY&feature=emb_logo - Jared

“Back in May, Kurt Vile took to his basement for a solo acoustic stream to benefit 30 Amp Circuit, a non-profit dedicated to support the health, wellness, and professional needs of Philadelphia-based musicians and artists. The intimate 3-song set rounded out with a special tribute to the late John Prine, as Kurt did his own rendition of “Sam Stone.”” - J. D.

Radiohead, In Rainbows - From The Basement, 6/4/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sWqDIZxO-nU

“This is the one die hard Radiohead fans have been waiting for. This session originally from 2008 existed in some pretty esoteric places and has been almost impossible to find – until now.” - G. A.

Sturgill Simpson, Live at The Ryman Auditorium, 6/5/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kO73im4J2sU

“2020 was supposed to be a banner year for Sturgill, until he got COVID-19 in April. He’s ok now, but something about this performance in the sacred church of country music The Ryman, hits different.” - G. A.

Haim - Women in Music PT. III Live Show, 6/25/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_eJU6X3_jQ

“I love pretty much everything the Haim sisters do - so much so that I aspire to be a sister myself. When I was feeling those very familiar mid-pandemic blues, their “Women in Music PT III” livestream, which celebrated their new album of the same name, was the exact pick me up that I needed. For the first time since March, the 30 minute set made me feel as if I was at an intimate gathering - rather than behind a computer watching a YouTube video along with thousands of others. The stream will have you grooving, laughing, and you may even want to be a Haim sister yourself.” - S. D.

Nilufer Yanya, Boiler Room: Streaming From Isolation with Night Dreamer & Worldwide FM, 6/28/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kAaAicIJE7s

“Hauntingly beautiful and yet also somehow grounded, Nilufer Yanya’s June livestream was a special one to watch. It makes the case for how intimate an artist’s performance can be, even virtually.” - G. A.

Brittany Howard, Live From Ryman Auditorium, 10/17/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLH59WLQbZo

“Watching Brittany Howard and her incredible band rip through a set on the Ryman stage like no one and everyone was watching all at once was cathartic. The combination of such a singular artist and historic venue hit a similar nerve to seeing an artist you’re excited about play a show in the flesh with people you love – not an easy feat!” - M. L.

Tkay Maidza - Live on KEXP at Home, 11/3/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPJgrDvyRbw

“13 minutes and 11 seconds of pure energy. This livestream is the moment we’ve all been waiting for, and, in my opinion, showcases Maidza as the star that she is. A must-watch if you’re looking for a refreshing and colorful approach to hip-hop.“ - S. D.

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shingansoul · 5 years

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Like an Excited Puppy

So i got bored and this started around 4am and i finished it around 6am, it’s basically an almost no plot fluffy piece of the kirkwall gang. Enjoy?

In the seven or so years he had known Hawke, it had not really occurred to Varric how his interactions with the champion must come off to those outside Hawke’s inner circle.

He had simply wanted to buy himself a new ring, a simple gold band to replace his last one which had been lost out at the coast on his last escapade. It just felt strange to be without one after having had one for so long. He felt more aware of the fact he had a ring since he lost the damn thing than when he actually wore it. He wasn’t prepared however for what the trinket vendor had to comment, it was idle gossip true, but rarely was Varric himself the one being spoken about.

“Oh! So you’re finally going to tie down the champion then? An entrepreneur like you, with the status he holds I wouldn’t blame you. He’s just so smitten with you too, and in public! A good catch I say.”

The woman continued on, her chattering not stopping for the audience’s reaction as she counted out the coin given to her before handing over the ring. Meanwhile, Varric was left spluttering, caught off guard for once and without a retort at all as he processed what had just been insinuated.

“ Whoa, whoa, whoa lady, you think that..Me?..and Hawke? Sure the guy’s my friend, but we’re both already- and smitten? I think you’ve got it all-”

He was cut off by a giggle from the woman who started this all as she held her hands up to calm him.

“ You’ve nothing to prove to me, Ser Tethras, I had just assumed from how our champion is with you and all. My mistake.”

She smiled placatingly, a laugh still on her lips as if to say she most certainly did not believe herself to be mistaken. The dwarf groaned, batting a hand at the air her way before shoving the ring on his finger and turning tail back towards Lowtown and to the hanged man. He pinched the bridge of his nose, chuckling softly to himself.

“Well shit Hawke, now look what you’ve got me dealing with.”

“Oh? And what would that be Varric? If I’m getting on your nerves i’d think I'd be the first to know about it at least. Usually it’s on purpose!”

The sudden low register and friendly banter gave for the Dwarf to start slightly, instantly relaxing at the sight of his friend and the current person of mind.

“ Jeez, you’d think with all that armor i’d have heard you sneak up on me, i guess i’ll have to give Daisy’s twine to you and tie it to your belt like a leash. Sneaky bastard.”

Hawke grinned wide, laughing loudly as he leaned down to wrap an arm around the Dwarf and rested his chin on the opposite shoulder, his cheek against Varric’s neck. He jokingly pouted, whining out between laughing, “Oh no! You wouldn’t leash up your favorite human in the world would you?”

This only warranted him a light playful smack to the shoulder and a snort.

“Nah, I wouldn't deprive the bar of it’s favorite dumbass, it’d be bad for business. Plus trying to put a leash on you is like trying to hold a greased nug, not worth the effort and you’ll escape anyhow.”

Hawke’s grin was even wider than before, gleeful at his victory. He stood tall once more, excitedly thrusting his arms above his head before hopping a few steps ahead of the other man just to turn to face Varric once more. “ Hey Varric, wicked grace and drinks tonight at the Hanged Man? Yes,okay, great, i’ll go tell all the others and I'll see you there tonight, see ya!”

With that, Hawke quickly placed a kiss on the Dwarf’s temple before running off like a sugar filled child, presumably towards the Keep given by the direction. Varric simple sighed with exasperation, shaking his head as he continued his walk back to lowtown before it struck him like a blow to the head.

“Ah shit… I’ve gotten too used to it. That’s what she meant at the..”

Resigned to his fate realizing he allowed what had started the rumor to begin with, he knew he’d never shake the rumors as long as Hawke still stuck around. Hawke was just too damn affectionate, and with those puppy dog eyes? Varric really had gone soft.

It was early afternoon when the young elf heard a firm knock at her door, though before she could even call out the sound of a key clicking in the lock and the door being opened was heard to reveal Hawke to be the visitor. He waved with his free hand as he pocketed the key before opening his arms wide. Merrill giggled and trotted over to him, standing on the balls of her feet to reach around his neck in a hug as he wrapped his arms around her waist and easily hoisted her up and twirled her a few times.

She happily allowed their little ‘routine’ greeting, always feeling welcome and comfortable around the excitable and affectionate man. She sighed as he put her down, stepping inside without further prompting while she herself rushed to clean off the table and chairs though they seemed clean enough already regardless.

“So! What can i do ya for, Hawke? You seem to be in a particularly bouncy mood. Sorry about the mess, but you know..”

He waved her off, opting to lean against the wall near the elf rather than sit down.

“Nonsense, your home is probably the cleanest of all our friends none alone the cleanest in Kirkwall. Even if it was as messy as Fen-Fen’s stinky old mansion, you know I'd still come to visit. Now,” he clapped his hands as if to draw attention before continuing, “ there’s going to be a big game of wicked grace between everyone at the Hanged Man tonight, and you just have to come.”

“Oh that sounds like so much fun! By everyone, do you mean everyone everyone or..?”

“Yes even Sebastian will be coming, he doesn’t know it yet, but he will soon and then he’ll be there. Champion’s honor!” As if to accentuate the gravity of the promise, Hawke stood in perfect posture with one arm to his chest in a salute of sorts. Merill gasped dramatically, putting her hands to her face and feigning amazement.

“Well if i have the promise and invitation of the champion, I simply have to go!” She giggled softly, covering her mouth with a hand daintily as she saw Hawke beam at her response.

“Besides, it’s been so long since we all got together like that, I feel like I've missed so much!”

Hawke hummed in agreement, nodding. He made his way towards the door, his gaze cast over his shoulder as he walked.

“Well then, i’ll see you there! I gotta run, i still have to tell the boys about tonight.” And with one last wave he stepped out and closed the door carefully behind him.

More often than one would expect, Sebastian found himself wandering through Darktown on his own, this particular trip having been to deliver some order forms of potions for the Templar forces. Though somehow he had wandered from the small bartering center all the way to just outsides Anders’ Clinic. It wasn’t intentional, but seeing the apostate himself waving off some patients with a few cats near his feet certainly set him at ease. Today was a good day, an Anders day, which lead the archer to greet him. Sebastian moved into the other’s view, calling out the others name in greeting as he approached. Anders gave him a tired look before stepping outside the clinic himself.

“Sebastian? What brings one of the Chantry all the way down here?” His tone wasn’t accusing, merely making small talk. A good day today was indeed.

“I was making a view supply orders is all and thought i’d come check in since I was local. I’ve been quite busy lately, how long has it been since we last spoke properly?”

There was a pause, Anders looked to the ground in thought before after a few more silent moments, “Three cats ago.”

There was no joking tone to his words, the genuine tone only serving to cause the Chantry brother to chuckle. “Anders, you’re telling me in around a month you’ve obtained...three cats?”

The man in question simply gave a blank look and a curt nod, opening his mouth to speak only to be cut off. “Andy! Sebastian! Perfect, just the two men i wanted to see!”

The two men turned to see their friend excitedly rushing over to them. Hawke smiled warmly, humming to himself as he reached out and grabbed one of Anders’ and Sebastian’s hands. He gently swayed his arms forward and back a bit, swinging both their arms in kind.

“ I hope you two weren’t busy, and if you were then consider your business officially pardoned for a day by the champion. Now with my weekly display of influence out of the way, tonight at the Hanged Man we’re all going to be playing Wicked Grace. Don’t worry, I know neither of you enjoy being drunk or like the cheap stuff the bar serves so I'll bring you some sweet wines to binge tonight.”

Hawke looked at the two men as if for applause, waiting to be gratified it seemed. Sebastian made to put up a retort but Anders caught him before he spoke. The apostate smiled, a look of tired defeat already adorning his face. “ Just let it happen, Sebastian. It’s easier, and it’s not as if you don’t like the company.”

The mage’s gaze drifted to the other man’s hand still firmly interlocked with Hawke’s as they spoke before raising an eyebrow inviting any argument to his statement. Sebastian heaved a sigh, more for show than anything, before nodding in submission.

“I guess I’m free tonight enough for a few games with you.”

Hawke released Anders only to now hold both hands around Sebastian's one, holding it to his chest as he radiated happiness it seemed. The raven haired man grinned wide and hugged the other, spouting a string of “thank you!” ‘s and with a firm slap to the back, he released him and turned to the other. Anders simply raised his arms up and out for Hawke to scoop him up into a hug, arms wrapped around the other’s middle, and then plant a soft peck on his cheek before putting him down.

“I’ll see you both tonight then. Sebastian, safe walk back to hightown! Anders, try and rest up before tonight you look dead on your feet. Oh! And give Ser Purr-cival a pet for me!”

The two waited until Hawke was out of range before looking at each other and exhaling in unison a breath they didn't realize they were holding.

“The man’s grip is like a bear, how can that be from such a cheery lad?”

Anders chuckled, shrugging before aiming a smug grin at the other. Sebastian raised an eyebrow in question awaiting explanation before chuckling to himself in mild disbelief.

“Oh for the love of the Maker, you ol’ fuddy duddy you.”

“What? I just respect a man who respects cats is all. Now im going to take him up on that advice for a nap until tonight, me and the nine cats will be in the back if you need me before then. Farewell.”

With that, the blonde retreated into the clinic locking the doors behind him and Sebastian began his trek out of Darktown before stopping abruptly, glancing back quickly from where he came.

“Wait, did he say he had nine cats?”

Evening had rolled around and most of the group had taken their place at the Hanged Man’s largest table set towards the back closest to the stairs leading to the lodgings floor. Varric sat at the tables head, going clockwise from him sat Merrill, Aveline, Sebastian, and then Anders with the next two seats left empty for the organiser of this little get-together and Fenris.

It hadn’t been too long since everyone started showing up, Aveline having only just settled in after her last shift on patrol. Most everyone had a drink of sorts, cheap grog for some, the promised sweet wine for others, and everyone had really just been playing catch up for the past hour or so. After insistence from Varric, Anders ended up with a bowl of sliced apples to munch on and his hair freshly combed through by Isabella after having being scolded for, “Actually being what the cats dragged in.”

Isabella had just risen to head towards the bar counter to order more before the expected duo finally walked through. Excitedly, everyone of the group called out or raised a mug in greeting, Hawke waved spastically from the doorway invoking a snort of amusement from the snowy haired elf beside him. Isabella, already up, ran at Hawke, no hesitation as she moved to jump up and at him. Quick to adapt, he grinned and caught her, her legs wrapping around his waist and her arms around his neck as she gave him a kiss on the mouth. Fenris growled in disapproval and Hawke was quick to tap his fingers against her thigh, signalling for her to stop.

“Oh boo, I thought for sure I'd charm you this time for sure,” she whined.

Hawke barked a laugh before adjusting his grip to hold both her thighs to keep her securely in place.

“Alas, my dear pirate queen, i am but a man with only taste for one other to grace themselves upon me.”

As he spoke, Hawke exaggerated a partial swoon to lean his head back and onto the shoulder of Fenris who stood beside him through the whole display. Isabella and her perch alike both cackled loudly in response to the glare the elf sent them. Isabella loosened her hold after this, shimmying down to stand on her own once the other let go. They all made their way to the table, Varric already dealing cards and having ordered beers for the trio while they were carrying on.

They all laughed and played, the first two rounds going to Isabella and Merrill respectively. Even Fenris cracked a smile here and there and seemed visibly more relaxed. Hawke took stock of the two on either side of him, Fenris seemingly calm and relaxed with his surroundings and Anders who was fighting less in the game of cards and more with the fight to stay awake. So, Hawke simply placed a hand on Fenris’ thigh and asked as casually as one would ask for a napkin, “Mind if I borrow this?”

Fenris paused, glancing to him before shrugging and with a nod from his partner, Hawke laid across his side of the bench with his legs folded with knees together and his head and upper back on Fenris’ lap. Before settling in, He softly tugged at Anders’ coat, motioning to his legs and then a ‘come here’ motion. It took the tired Mage a few moments to connect the dots before he simply pulled his coat more around him and leaned on his side, his own head resting on Hawke’s knees.

“I do believe that puts Blondie out of the game and into a nap, Hawke.”

“Hawke, you do know i can see your cards now correct?”

A gasp. “Fenris! You’d never cheat off me, you love me!”

“ Mmm, i'm afraid that’s true. I suppose i won’t take advantage of you this time then at least.”

Hawke reached up, smiling, and ghosted hand hand over Fenris’ cheek.

“Aww, Fen-Fen, thank you, you’re so romantic when you want to be.”

At the pet name’s mention, the owner of the name knew what was to come, Fenris grimaced as the whole table erupted in laughter and questioning of the nickname. His ears reddened slightly in embarrassment, causing only louder uproar. As everyone jumped in to tease, save for the too far gone sleeping Anders, Varric took in the scene. Yeah, Hawke was an affectionate one alright with those close to him, but in the end Varric was glad and proud to say he was close enough to warrant being apart of all this.

Not towards anyone and without the groups notice, he glanced at Hawke and raised his mug slightly before downing his drink.

‘ To Hawke, champion of Kirkwall and of our hearts.’

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #garrett hawke #fenris #varric tethras #anders #sebastian vael #dragon age isabela #dragon age merrill #aveline #fanfiction #fluff

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subconwell · 5 years

Text

Title: In Locomotion Characters: The Snatcher & The Conductor Description: In order to get his Death Wish plans off the ground, the Snatcher is going to need the Conductor to make his dreams a reality. It’s more difficult than he bargained for. Word Count: 1689

I just think the dynamic between the Snatcher and the Conductor is neat. My future fics are probably going to feature them if I’m being honest. You can read it either here on AO3 or below the cut!

If you enjoy it, please feel free to leave a comment/kudos on AO3! I’d really appreciate it.

“Hellooooo there!” Snatcher waves to the bird that’s driving the train. He seems more annoyed than startled. “Nice place you got here! Can’t tell what sort of thing you were going with this, but I digress.” He clasps his hands together, grinning more than usual. “Listen, I vaguely know of you, you might’ve heard of me, so let’s talk!”

Now, Snatcher’s not normally the type to come barging in and asking for their cooperation—trapping them in by force is more his style—but considering everyone he needs won’t set foot in his forest any time soon, he has to improvise.

The Conductor looks over his shoulder, and then immediately turns back to his work. “Those good fer nothin’ owls were supposed to keep people from coming in while I’m working. Look, I have no idea who ye could possibly be, so it can’t be that important.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate, because I know all about you!”

“Wish ye didn’t,” he mumbles. “Guess that’s what happens when ye run the only train on the planet, so I’m nae surprised.”

“You run a train? How interesting! I thought this was all just for show—”

“Can’t ye see I’m busy here?” Putting the train on autopilot for the time being, the Conductor swivels his chair, face to face with the sudden intruder on his train. He crosses his arms, visibly annoyed. Most who encounter him tend to fear his appearance and unsettling voice, but not this guy, apparently. “If all yer goin’ to do is make idle chit chat, then get out!”

“I won’t be long,” Snatcher says, making his way over to the other. “I just have a deal for you.” He probably should’ve started with that off the bat with him. The kid did say that he has a temper.

“What? That’s all?” The bird’s not impressed. “I never asked fer one, so I’m not interested. Get off me train.”

Okay! Maybe this will be a bit more difficult than he thought. “Not even willing to hear me out?”

“Yer as suspicious as they come. I got nae reason to trust ye.” The Conductor sighs, turning his chair back to the control panel. “Go on, be on yer way now.”

Unfortunately for the Conductor, it’s going to take a lot more than a rejection to get Snatcher out of his way. He needs this guy to make this Death Wish plan a reality, and he’s not going to leave without his soul. “I don’t think you understand,” the ghost says. Grabbing the back of the Conductor’s chair, forcing it to a stop after a few rotations. “I wasn’t giving you the option of saying no to me.”

The bird huffs, trying to drive off the dizziness he just experienced. “If ye aren’t outta here in the next few seconds, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Snatcher picks the other up by the neck of his collar, hoisting him up so they’re seeing eye to eye. “What can you possibly— ”

Perhaps he should’ve seen this coming. Provoke a wild animal enough, and it’ll bare its teeth. In this case, the “wild animal” is a bright yellow bird, and the teeth is his knife that’s sticking out of Snatcher. He feels absolutely nothing from the knife itself, but he does feel overwhelming satisfaction seeing the Conductor’s smug look change to that of shock.

He’s not going anywhere unless he does what Snatcher tells him to.

“Are you done?” With his free hand, he pulls the knife out, tossing it over his shoulder. “I’m very surprised you couldn’t tell that I can’t be hurt that easily, but I guess I overestimated you. Sorry about that!”

“Ugh.” The Conductor is resigned to his fate. “Tell me what ye want since yer insisting on it, peck neck.”

That’s the closest Snatcher is going to get to a ‘you beat me,’ which isn’t as satisfying as it could be, but he’ll take it. It’s been fun knocking him down a few pegs regardless! He drops the bird on the ground. “Now that I finally have your undivided attention,” he says, “I can bring this out!”

Behold, one of Snatcher’s signature contracts, with a pen to match! “Since you’ve been so difficult, I’m almost tempted to just take your soul right here and now! But I’ll be nice since I need every part of you for this.”

“I work in entertainment,” the Conductor says, “I don’t have a soul.”

“You would think, but no, you fortunately have one. I checked!”

“How the peck—”

The Snatcher puts a hand on the other’s shoulder, who slaps it off immediately. “How I go about my business isn’t your concern. I’d be more worried about reading the terms and conditions of what you’re agreeing to if I were you.”

“I can’t read if ye can’t be quiet,” he grumbles, grabbing the piece of paper and skimming through the document. After getting halfway through, he looks up. “What, so ye need me to do yer dirty work? And fer what?”

“Not exactly. Keep reading.”

It’s hard to convince someone to thoroughly read through a legal document if they don’t want to. Snatcher knows from experience about those types—they go through it as fast as possible, only pay attention to what benefits them, get the transaction over with, and don’t realize how badly they’ve been screwed over in the process. Suffice to say, they’re his favorite kinds of people to make a deal with, and the Conductor seems to fit that category perfectly.

His face lights up. “Award 42?” He sounds almost in disbelief. “How would ye…?”

Snatcher smiles. “I have my ways.”

To be fair, it’s not too hard for him to figure out what a person’s deepest desires are—that, and the very kid that he’s trying to torment really thinks the conversations she has with him are purely banter. She’s been enlightening him about the very adventures he wants to twist around for his own gain, hoping to finally get the revenge he’s been seeking from her all this time. Promising the Mafia Boss a body, promising Mustache Girl he’ll rid her island of the Mafia, and what did he plan on promising the Conductor?

Award 42.

It’s all he could talk about when he was attempting to kill Hat Kid, according to her. Snatcher figured he’d be able to reignite the Conductor’s murderous rage with that particular carrot dangling in front of him. Luckily, the wording is vague enough that he can get away with only partially fulfilling his end of the deal. Once all is said and done, he’s going to hand off the award to him, and nothing else. No fanfare. No change in the actual history of the awards. He’ll have the award, just like he promised, but it won’t truly be his to claim.

With the Conductor the way that he is, Snatcher anticipates the fallout to be catastrophic. He’ll take care of it when the time comes.

“Yer not kidding? Ye really mean it?”

“Sure do!” Snatcher nods, his grin only growing the more he speaks. “It’s as it says. Sign your body and soul away to me to use for the time being, and I’ll give you an award for your troubles, no strings attached. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me!”

The Conductor already has the pen in hand, but he stops short of putting it to the paper. He looks up at the Snatcher. “Who’s going to take care of me train, then?”

“Don’t worry yourself about that,” he says. He has no real plans for that part, he’ll probably try and get a minion to make sure it doesn’t crash or something like that. “It says that in the contract, doesn’t it? If the train is destroyed in any way in your absence, the deal’s off! It’s pretty simple.”

He hesitates. The pen’s in his hand, he’s looking at the document, and to be perfectly honest, it’s not clear what the Conductor is going to do. There’s something he finds fascinating about how unpredictable this man can be—at least that’s something he can use to his advantage while he technically owns the rights to him.

“So, what’s it gonna be?”

“What, sign or let ye kill me? Yer not giving me much of an option!”

“Then why the hesitation?”

“It’s.” The Conductor pauses. He’s trying to search for something, but he’s at a loss. It’s not something he wants to put into words, but Snatcher’s all too familiar with it: no longer being in control. Inhaling sharply after some silence, he says, “It’s nothing.”

Without ceremony, he signs it, the contract disappearing before his eyes before he’s gotten the chance to fully take in what he’s done. “Hey, don’t be so glum, chum!” Snatcher cheerfully sings out. “You’re getting Award 42 at the end of all of this! Don’t forget!”

“Aye, how can I?” Taking his hat off, his runs his hand through the feathers that sit atop his head. “Look, I know ye need me, but I can’t go along with it just yet.”

“I know,” Snatcher replies. “I still need to make arrangements with your future coworker! Pretty sure you know him.”

“My…” It dawns on him. “Ye didn’t—!!”

“Oops! Looks like I’m needed elsewhere!” He didn’t actually have anywhere else to be, but he’s not exactly looking to get stabbed again. “Smell ya later!”

As he was leaving, he could still hear bits and pieces of the fit the Conductor started to throw. Sitting back in his chair at home, Snatcher can finally relax! At least, that’s what he wants to do. All he can think about at the moment is how much of a pain it’s going to be to have to be around that piece of work. Maybe he can get him and DJ Grooves to cooperate if they’re able to hurt each other too? Heck if he knows!

He better not be going through all of this trouble just to have the kid live through it all. That would be the worst. Oh well, he’ll meet that situation when if he comes to it.

#a hat in time #ahit #the snatcher #the conductor #ahit conductor #ahit snatcher #last time i didn't include the full fic under the cut but i think i'm gonna start doing that lmao #dev fic tag

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