#and really driven home the whole “he can't come back” thing

[loxosceleslolo]

things I was expecting the Shadow of the Erdtree final boss to be:

we get to the divine gate and find that Miquella is being puppeted by a gross black deathblight slug (kinda like what happened to Gwyndolin in DS3). he tried to bring Godwyn back. Godwyn came back wrong (if it was even truly him at all). now we get a Saint of the Deep shout-out fight.

we get to the divine gate and find out that Miquella has been dead the entire time AND NOW WE GET TO FIGHT A JUICED-UP NEEDLE KNIGHT LEDA BECAUSE SHE WAS USING US TO GET TO THE DIVINE GATE AND BECOME A GOD HERSELF THE ENTIRE TIME.

things I was not expecting the Shadow of the Erdtree final boss to be:

the final boss of Wattpad.

[atarathegreat]

I'm Naked Here. Ken Ryuguji

Draken had been busy for a while. Day after day after day it was like he always had something that he had to do. Visiting his friends, helping Mitsuya, and then there was that whole month that he was gone while Mikey was racing. Now that he was home he was still busy catching up on things that needed fixed around the house, helping Shinichiro at S.S Motors, looking over literally everything else but you.

You were pissed.

Even now he was out in the garage, looking over his own bike with the intent of going for a ride to make sure it was fully fixed. Kenny had been out there all day, covered in grease and sweat while only coming in for water and a small snack.

"Kenny?" You wandered in with a glass of water for him, "How's it coming along?"

"Not great," He grabbed the glass and took a quick sip, "a few things are still broken and I need to replace the seat. The damn leather has been ruined 'cause I can't get out here to take care of her."

There wasn't much you could do but stand next to him as he tinkered. You didn't know much about the motorcycle, much less on how to fix it. What you did know, however, was that Kenny was dense. Here you were, next to him and talking to him, naked as the day you were born.

"Do you think I could show you how to take care of the leather for when I'm gone?" He asked, reaching for a tool before going back to the bike, "Replacing the seat is going to be expensive and I can't keep doing it every time I get home."

"I'll try." You nodded.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

You continued to sit and talk to him, handing him tools and waiting for him to notice you. Usually he was very attentive, so this was a little funny to you. You couldn't help but laugh at the way he wasn't even looking at you.

"What's so- Holy shit..." Ken looked up after gods know how long. His dark eyes trailed all over your body, landing on your chest and hips and-

Kenny stood quickly and nearly slammed you into the work bench behind you, "Fuck...I really have been gone too long if I hadn't noticed this." He rubbed his developing hard on up against your leg, groaning at the feeling of it. "I hope your plan was to get fucked." Draken slipped from the pants he wore and rubbed his tip through your folds, "I'm not-I don't think I can be gentle."

The way you giggled shot straight to his cock, making his tip swell a little more. You knew he wouldn't be gentle, not with his physique and strength, but that didn't bother you. Something about the way he sounded when he had complete control over the situation drove not only him crazy, but you. He was an animalistic man, driven by pure need and primal instinct.

"The hell are you thinkin' anyway? Comin' out here in nothing but your skin?" Draken tapped your clit harshly to make you hiss, "We have neighbors. What if I had the door wide open?"

You shook your head at him, "You close the door at nine pm sharp."

"Smart girl thought ahead, hm? Thinks that makes it better?" Kenny whispered in your ear, fixing the way you were sat on the workbench. Comfortability was his main concern when he made you cream. Location was of little consequence when he could feel your muscles tightening around him in pure, pathetic need. Making you cry was his main goal half of the time, the other three percent was seeing how loud he could make you. "Just wanted my attention, didn't you, ya' little minx." Draken pulled your hair to expose your throat to him, "Reminds me of the ladies that raised me, y'know."

Calloused fingers squeezed your jaw, dark eyes bore into yours, "Think you could survive if I left you in the Red Light District, hm? Would this little cunt make it out without bruising?" His deep laugh made you wet, wetter than you had been, at least. "No, not my baby. You'd be destroyed."

Not that he minded. Hell, he'd never even actually leave you in the store, let alone a dangerous part of town. But those big pupils of yours excited him to no end.

"Tongue out." Kenny released your jaw to spit on your tongue and press his finger to it, "Good girl. Swallow." Having you obey him after coming out to the garage bare ass naked was throwing him through a million plans. Gods, the ways he could bend you fucking backwards for his pleasure and you'd take it... It made his cock throb painfully.

"Deep breath." He whispered in your ear. You'd no sooner breathed in when he stretched you, bottoming out with a light growl in your ear. "Fuck... Definitely too long if you're this tight. Fucking choking me, baby."

The workbench creaked its protest as Draken fucked into you. There would be faint bruising from his thighs hitting the tabletop, but that wasn't his concern. You're cries of pleasure and the way you were breaking through the skin on his arms had all his focus. "That's right. Fucking cling to me." His cock was hitting as deep as your body allowed, "Needy girl... All for me, yeah?"

"Kenny!"

"There ya' go. Scream for me." Draken grabbed your throat, "Let the neighbors hear us. Let 'em know you've got a needy little cunt."

"I said, let 'em know." His fingers tightened around your neck.

You held his wrist as he slammed into you, his tip feeling like it was moving your insides around, "Please, Kenny! Need you!"

Awful, squelching, wet noises drew his attention to where he was bullying you, "Fuck yeah, you do. I can hear her talkin' to me. Pretty little cock sleeve, ain't ya?" Draken moved you from the workbench, bending you over his bike seat. "Goddamn... So fuckin' good for me. Hold tight, baby, I ain't gonna be done with you anytime soon."

[diamondheartyux]

Pennywise

  "Legend has it he likes to be crammed into any tight, wet hole he can find." 

DK x xreader

Genre: Horror, Smut 18 + MDNI

Word count: 5.8K

Warnings: Clowns, aggression, dub\con-ish, this is pretty tame compared to the others BUT if I have missed anything please let me know.

Welcome to part one of Killer Climaxes! 👻

Peep the playlist here

In a small town in Seoul, rumors swirl about Dokyeom: a clown obsessed, sex crazed weirdo who hangs out in the town's sewer systems. He was Seoul's own little Pennywise except he didn't crave your life, just your orgasms. It was also believed that once he got his hands on you, you were never the same, your body morphing, turning you into a certified nympho as the desperate craving for more was all but unbearable. The only problem is he doesn't double tap, so the town is left with a hoard of mindless zombies walking around in search of their next lay that could come close enough to satisfying them. 

People always say there are pieces of truth in legends but you can't seem to find any in this. A whole town of lust driven citizens? A grown man who roams sewers dressed as a clown? No sane person would do these things. It was absurd not to mention the fact that you were absolutely terrified of clowns. You scoff, one headphone in blasting your favorite playlist, as you quickly crumble the newsletter in your hand. Your footsteps echo on the wet pavement, the chilly autumn air hanging with the remnants of the storm having just passed through. The leaves rustle in the trees lining the street, the air around them dancing in shades of yellow, orange, and red. A breeze blows softly, whispering to your skin as it coaxes goosebumps to the top. You pull your cardigan tighter around you as your feet pad over piles of fallen leaves with a satisfying crunch. 

The sun was hidden behind the looming gray clouds, dimming the bright rays to a muted light around you. It was almost dusk, that time between early afternoon and nightfall when the street lights would turn themselves on at the first hint of dimness. You take in a deep breath, savoring the smells of damp and decay surrounding you and the scent sends waves of peace to your brain and through your body. It really was the most wonderful time of the year. You tread softly, in no hurry to get home as you travel the familiar path from college to your house. You zone out, your feet carrying you off muscle memory, as you nod your head to the music blasting in one ear. This road was empty, as it always was. That's why you chose it. No cars, no bikes, and most importantly: no people to bother you as you decompress from the day full of academics. 

Humming softly, you skip a little as you lose yourself to your music pumping loudly in your ear, your arms swinging and your shoes stomping on piles of wet leaves. Your body moves to the beat, shimmying in time with the tempo. Your mind is lost within you, the rhythm in your ears is just the escape you need after today. The town was buzzing for Halloween as it quickly approached, every corner boasting of witches, vampires, and clowns. All make believe creatures merely brought to life by childlike wonder, things you didn't understand the fascination with. 

You pass a storm drain and roll your eyes before tossing the balled up newsletter in your hand at it as you pass. You watch it as it disappears, hitting the concrete on the inside with a small noise and you smirk proudly. It was a perfect shot which is a lot because your aim was terrible. You turn back to the empty road before you with a smile on your face, amping the volume on your phone up. And you almost miss it. 

You weren't sure what you heard at first. A rustling so soft, it sounded like a background noise in your song. You pause the music, still strolling, and listen. When you don't hear anything you unpause it then rewind, listening for the odd sound again. Concentrating on the notes and rhythm in your earbud, you finally hear it again yet this time, it's in a different spot in the song. You stop, your mind on alert now as you turn to survey around you. Your eyes laser in on everything, searching for anything or anyone around you. 

You turn slowly to your right after sweeping the left and that's when you see it. Your eyes widen as you stop mid turn, your shoulder angled towards the storm drain you just passed. There, about half a meter from the drain was the newsletter you threw inside. Your brain is buzzing, busy sending out signals of danger through you yet your body remains frozen in disbelief. Against better judgment, you bring your body to face the drain. Your head tilts curiously as you study the paper ball in the street. Your eyes dart from the drain to the paper and back. You knew you had thrown it into the drain. Hadn't you? No, you saw it go in. It was the perfect shot, wasn't it? You lift your foot the slightest bit much to your brain's disappointment, and you push yourself forward, taking a timid yet cautious step. 

You make your way back to the paper, one small, scared step at a time. You try to come up with reasons for what happened yet none of them make sense. You stop, bending down slowly to grab the paper as you approach it and that's when you hear it. A sound so soft you almost missed it. You squat down, peering into the sewer when you hear it again: a whimper. It’s childlike in nature and a panic begins to bloom in your chest. Was there a child in there? How long had they been in there? Were they stuck?

“Hello?” you call timidly, your voice soft but loud enough to bounce off the concrete of the drain. You gasp lightly when a small, timid voice returns your greeting. 

“H-h-help me.” it says softly, the high pitch whine of a scared, small child ringing in your ears, sending alarm bells through your entire body for the wrong reasons. You lean forward some, placing your hand on the slick pavement to balance yourself as you try to peer into the drain. 

“I’m stuck. Please help me. I’m so scared. It’s so dark here. I want my mom.” the voice says to you, a hushed sniffle paired with a choked sob following its last words. Your heart pounds, shattering and the sirens of your brain are silenced by the overwhelming need to help this poor scared child. You lean forward more, your face now mere centimeters from the opening. You tilt your head side to side as you survey the blackness that presents itself over the lip of the entrance. You pull your foot forward to walk yourself in your crouched position, the sound of your sneakers dragging across the pavement feel louder than they should be but still bounce off your ears despite the frenzied pumping of your heart. 

“Give me your hand. Let me see if I can pull you out and then we’ll find your mom, okay? Can you reach the top?” you ask tenderly as you continue to move your face closer. Your arm comes out hesitantly, hovering just in front of your chest as you wait to see little fingers breach the darkness in front of you.

Small sniffles echo quietly in the inky dark space and you sit frozen, eyes trained to it. 

“I’m reaching as far as I can. Can you see my fingers?” 

You tilt your head curiously, concluding that the child was too short to be seen over the edge so you lean forwards more, one knee coming to almost touch the ground as your hands rests on either side of you for balance. You bring your face to the storm drain, eyes straining to see the outline of small, chubby, childfingers. When you see nothing, you feel a mixture of frustration and concern. You squint before you call back out. 

“I can’t see you.” You reply but then you see pale white fingers slowly come from the void of the drain as they snake up into the air before coming down one by one to grip the lip deliberately. You tilt your head in confusion. The fingers are long and slender. And pale. They very much do not look like children’s fingers unless maybe it was the way the shadows cast in there. Maybe it was optical, something your brain couldn’t understand due to the vast varying degrees of dark and light. You watch, holding in a breath while leaning closer subconsciously before you hear the voice again.

“Can you see me now?” it asks in response, the childlike falsetto distorting with every syllable.. You lean forward a bit more out of curiosity, eyes squinting as you try to see when suddenly a face appears, popping up quickly. You gasp, startled and fall backwards as an eerie giggle floats across the space between you. It takes a moment for you to register that you were looking at a clown. His face was painted a ghostly white and it cracked along the lines in his forehead to settle into the wrinkles of his skin. His yellow eyes gleamed manically, the red lines running through them in consistency with the curve of his cheek stopped at the end of his lips before outlining them in the same deep red that lines his face and the top of his nose. A ruffled, dirty white collar framed his neck, resting under his chin. His hairline was pushed back, his red hair barely visible in the shadows.   

A scream dies in your throat as terror strikes you, coursing heatedly through your veins. Adrenaline responds immediately and you can feel your muscles trembling at the sight. A clown. A fucking clown. You’re frozen, deer eyed as you watch this creepy clown, his long white fingers lifting as more malicious laughter breezes off his lips. His hand begins to slowly climb out of the shadows, reaching at snail’s pace towards your ankles. Your hands ache from leaning back on them and your chest heaves as panic threatens to shut your entire system down. 

His fingers creep closer to your feet and you stare, helplessly frozen as they uncurl before stretching slowly in an attempt to wrap around your ankle. In that moment, your brain finally switches back on and you instinctively shuffle backwards in a desperate attempt to put space between you and him before curling your feet closer to you. Tears fall down your cheeks, your vision blurry with them as you scramble to get away. Your eyes refuse to leave his terrifying face, the sadistic smile curving his lips upwards and exposing his teeth, etch itself in your memory. You finally manage to pry your watery vision from the terror in front of you as you twist to the side, trying to push yourself up to stand and run. That’s when you feel it. 

His fingers wrap around your ankle and terror buzzes through you once again. Your heart pounds rapidly against your ribcage, as if screaming to get away. You turn your head to look back over your shoulder, both hands flat against the damp street under you before you kick your leg as you try to shake him off.. His hand grips tighter and his grin grows wider, exposing more of his pink gums.

He tugs at your foot, pulling you closer to the drain and to the darkness inside it. You kick harder and more frantically this time while sobs begin to erupt from your chest. He pulls you quicker and your flailing slows down to a stop. You try to grasp the ground as you inch closer to him, your nails cracking and breaking against the pavement before they begin to bleed. Your fingertips ache and, despite the failed efforts, you continue to claw in hopes to get away. You dig your hands tighter against the concrete as his giggles dance up your body and hover in your ears. Your vision is cluttered with tears despite the stream of them cascading down to drop from your chin.

In spite of your efforts, you can feel him pulling you closer, your legs bending as they crest the lip of the drain and dangle in the darkness inside it. Your arms ache and your fingers throb, the tips raw from your pointless struggling. You sniffle as your attempts to free yourself dwindle. Your body slides deeper into the storm drain, your legs dangling aimlessly as your waist finally crests the lip. He tugs you more with his slender fingers wrapped around your ankle almost painfully.You all but give up, allowing him to drag you further into his makeshift lair when suddenly you stop moving. He yanks your ankle to pull you down but you don’t move. Your upper body from the waist up remains on the outside, your hips too thick to snake into the bend of the drain. You wince as he continues to tug on your leg. Your hands return to trying to grip the road as you attempt to pull yourself out. Your legs flail frantically, hoping to take this opportunity to escape.    

A sigh of frustration permeates the air as he finally stops pulling your leg. You kick your legs continuously as you try to shimmy your way back out when suddenly a sting radiates across your backside. You jump slightly at the sudden, unexpected motion. Just how hard did he slap you for it to sting through your jeans? You continue to work to free yourself when another sting radiates through your bottom half. Your attempts falter as your body and your brain begin to work on different levels. Your brain tries to process what's happening while your body,...well your body doesn't seem to understand. The dull ache left in the wake of his hand spreads through you and your body is responding in all the wrong ways. A craving starts to wake, yawning as it rises slowly in your core so when his hand connects with your ass again, you almost moan involuntarily. 

Your brain bounces everywhere. You should be trying to get away, not all but anxiously waiting for the next touch. It had been a while since someone had made you feel good and the fact that his face was hidden almost made it bearable. But he was still some weirdo dressed as a clown and you should definitely get away, shouldn’t you? You reach a hand out in front of you and put pressure on your fingers as they grasp the pavement the best they can when his fingers begin to trail the inside of your legs. You pause as they work up from your calves at a tantalizingly slow pace. The tips of his fingers barely press against your pants as they tickle and tease on their ascension. You bring your bottom lip into your mouth, gnawing it as you anticipate the touch you knew was coming. He stalled, stopping to draw lazy circles in the middle of your inner thigh and you sigh before shifting in an attempt to move his hand where you want it.  

A chuckle creeps up before his fingers continue their journey, grazing teasingly over the crotch of your jeans. You shift, pushing yourself backwards against the touch. His hand slips up towards your stomach, his fingers curling to cup you before they rub small circles against the fabric. You stifle a groan, the touch not nearly enough friction through the thick fabric of your jeans. 

His hand disappears quicker than it appeared and you almost whine in protest before you feel his hand snaking between you and the wall you were dangling against. His other hand remains on your ankle, the grip loosening slightly as his fingers work to unbutton your jeans. He slides the zipper down slowly before pushing the fabric down as best he can with one hand. You shift slightly, instinctively trying to roll yourself against his hand to no avail. He continues to push your jeans down to your knees before he brings his hand back between your legs. His fingers slip over you, sliding skillfully between your folds. He runs them back and forth lazily before bringing his fingertips to your clit. You moan quietly as the motions send tiny jolts of pleasure through you. 

His hand around your ankle loosens more as he rubs you at a teasingly slow pace, his hand still cupped as it hovers over your ankle while he waits to see if you try to escape again. You barely feel him remove his hand, your mind focused on how you could get more pleasure from his digits to even bother with trying to run even if you had. Another soft chuckle vibrates the air before you feel his opposite hand come to caress your exposed ass. You groan at the touch, pushing your hips into his hand for more friction. He pops your ass lightly as you do and you whine. The slap wasn't enough to sting but enough for you to get the point that he was in control here, not you. The teasing was frustrating despite how little of it had been given. You were already desperate for release before this and he was making it worse by drawing it out. 

He runs his hand over the curve of your ass, gripping your cheek gingerly as he tugs it towards him to expose you some. You gasp softly before a low moan quickly escapes your mouth, billowing over your lips as you wait for what you expect to come. His fingers dip slowly, tauntingly as they casually glide down the curve of your ass and dip between your legs. You shift in an attempt to open your legs up more to allow him in which causes him to chuckle again at your eagerness. His skinny fingers stop to tease your now dripping entrance. You moan as the fingers circling your clit pick up their pace ever so slightly before he slips a finger inside you. You push your hips backwards to meet him as he sinks his digit deeper in. He starts out slowly, pulling his finger almost all the way out before pushing it back in to curl repeatedly in search of your sweet spot. You shiver slightly with every stroke as it warms the embers burning in your stomach. 

His fingers work you in a rhythm, picking up in pace gradually. He slips a second finger into you and you groan, your aching fingers digging into the pavement again as your pleasure threatens to coil tight enough to snap. Your body acts on its own accord, pushing and rolling your hips between each hand faster and faster as you match his pace. He pumps in and out quickly, always making sure to stroke the sensitive spot buried in you. Your lip aches from biting back the sounds that brewed in your throat and finally, you press your forehead on the wet ground as the dam holding them back breaks. Your moans carry, vibrating along your skin to carry down to his ears. His fingers pick up, circling faster and pumping harder. The tension now festering inside was growing too fast, it was uncontrollable and finally, it broke loose. Your body shudders and you clenched around his fingers, his ministrations sending you right over the edge without a second glance. You moan into the concrete as pleasure crashes into you. His fingers don’t relent, still pumping in and out of you as he coaxes your orgasm on. 

Your body quivers slightly as you buck softly through each wave. His hand falls from your clit before his fingers slip out, leaving an emptiness in their wake. You groan and wiggle again, still wanting more despite having just gotten off. You hear his mouth pop, as if he had been sucking on his fingers before he chuckles again and you have to stifle a moan at the thought of him licking you from his fingers and enjoying it. You lift your head up, your breathing rapid as your brain tries to settle and unscramble when you feel yourself slip a little. You grip the road again to keep yourself where you are to no avail. You squeak out a small yelp and squeeze your eyes shut as your body slips more, sinking into the sewer. You brace yourself for the impact you were so sure you’d feel and when it doesn’t come, you open your eyes. 

It was dim, the soft light from the drain barely illuminating anything. Your pants were still bunched around your knees but with them were hands. You raise your eyes and turn your head and find those yellow eyes staring back at you. They gleaned but this time with lust instead of malice. His hands held your hips and he pressed his fingers into your skin lightly. You shut your eyes quickly, the sight of him sending terror to override the high you were still riding. His fingers danced against your skin causing it to prickle underneath his touch. Your body, despite better sense, ignited again as he ran his hand up your body to caress your waist. He turned you around to press his back against you and you could feel the outline of his arousal as it pressed into your bare ass. You moan quietly as his hands continue their journey, fingertips trailing as they come to cup your breasts. 

Your hand reaches back to rub against him as he paws your chest through your shirt, stopping to slip his hands under your sweater then your bra to caress your bare skin. His fingers graze over your nipples, flicking across them teasingly before he rolls them between his thumb and pointer finger. He tugs them gently and you gasp, your hand gripping his erection through his costume as you try to stroke him. You keep your eyes shut as he walks the two of you forward before coaxing you to bend. He lifts your hand from his crotch and places it against the cool, curved wall. A breath puffs from your lips at the crisp feeling against your skin, the chill a deep contrast to the heat blazing under your skin. His hands disappear from under your sweater and you hear the sound of his clothing rustling. In seconds, the hands have reappeared followed by the warmth of his skin as he grips your hips to pull you against him. 

You moan softly at the feeling of his bare erection pressing against the skin of your ass and you push yourself back towards him. He lifts his hands, one coming to spread your ass cheeks apart and the other to guide himself to your entrance. You arch your back as you offer yourself up to him and he takes the invitation, swiftly pushing himself into you. He curses lightly at the feel of you, your warmth and wetness eagerly swallowing him. His cock fills you with a fullness you hadn’t ever experienced before. You moan at the feeling of being stretched this way as he pushes into more and more. Your chest heaves as your breathing rises with every inch he buries inside you before you feel his hips against your skin again.

You hang your head, your hands resting firmly on the wall as he pulls back to slide out of you almost completely. You moan softly as he pushes himself back into you swiftly, setting the pace of the movements to follow. He starts to thrust into you fast, rocking your body with every pump. His fingers dig into the skin of your hips roughly as he pulls you to him with every forward thrust he makes. He grunts softly as you moan loudly, the sound reverberating off the walls around you. He thrusts faster, each one a little more aggressive than the last when a hand sides off your hips to caress up your back, over the base of your neck, and into your hair. His body leans over yours and you moan again as he pushes deeper into you while he fists your hair tightly. He tugs it roughly one time and you wince before he tugs again to pull your body flush with his, your back against his chest. 

You gasp and groan as your hands whip around to grip against his hips, legs, whatever you could find and his pumps into you hard and fast. His free hand comes to rest under your sweater, his bare hand holding you as it rests on your stomach. He tugs your hair again to pull your head back before he presses his lips into the crook of your neck. He pounds into you over and over while his lips glide over your neck, stopping only to allow his teeth a chance to graze the sensitive spot below your ear. His groans bounce between his lips and your ear and fuels the fire blazing dangerously in your core. You dig your nails into his skin when his hand slips from your stomach and his fingertips find your clit again. 

He rubs it almost furiously without bearing down painfully as he pumps faster into you. You rest your head against his chest, his hands still wrapped into your hair. The dam holding your sounds from earlier was all but shattered and the sounds of your moans mix with flesh colliding in the chilly, murky tunnel around you as they echo around you. You yelp as he pulls your hair harshly before letting it go, pushing your head forward as he does. He quickly forces you to lean back over and his hands find your hips again. He digs his fingers in painfully as he pulls out of you before slamming back inside roughly. The flames of your desire dance wildly with every thrust, pushing you closer and closer to combustion as he fucks you harshly. You hold yourself up on the wall as your body bounces violently in rhythm with his strokes. 

He grunts and groans in time with each one before finally the fire inside explodes. You cry out as your body convulses under him. His strokes hold pace as you clench around him, having missed the edge of your pleasure before being completely catapulted into the blaze instead. He draws it out but never lets up, his skin slapping against yours as layer after layer of desire burns through your cells. When the embers finally die, you lift your head up and let it loll back as he carries on, chasing his high. You rock back and forth in time with his body, more sounds pouring from his lips before finally he pulls out of you suddenly. The absence hardly has time to be felt before he’s spinning you around and pushing you to your knees. 

You don’t have time to think much less try to disobey before he shoves his cock into your mouth. You moan softly at the taste of you melting onto your tongue before he rocks himself against your mouth and shoves himself all the way in. You gag as he hits the back of your throat but it doesn’t stop him. He continues his chase. His fingers tangle into your hair as he guides your head back and forth to match the pace of his cock sliding in and out of your mouth. He growls before he smashes himself against the back of your throat once more. His hands hold you flush with his hips and his cock twitches as you gag around it. Tears form immediately in your eyes as you feel a warmth spurt against your raw throat. He rocks against your mouth as he chases his orgasm, making sure to coax out every drop of his release as he can as you swallow instinctively.  

When he pulls out, you gasp for air and the tears pooling in your eyes creep down your cheek slowly. You cough, leaning over slightly. You only take your eyes off him for a minute but when you lean back up merely seconds later, he is gone. You rest a hand on your chest as you wait for your body and breathing to return to their normal, calm state. You turn your head side to side as you search for him but it's empty around you. You stand up and pull your jeans up to refasten them and readjust your clothing. You run your fingers through your hair in an attempt to comb it slightly before you turn to take in the area around you. You look up at the opening of the drain and know there was no way you would be able to get out of there that way. You turn to your left and begin to walk cautiously, your body on alert in the near darkness as you wait for him to pop out at you from the darkness somewhere. 

You walk for what feels like forever before you see small beams of light cascading from the ceiling up ahead. As you get closer, a ladder comes into view. You climb up, rung by rung, stopping to press up against the heavy cover closing the path into the sewer above you. You let it crack lightly and listen before pushing it up and over. You pull yourself out onto a deserted road before standing and replacing the manhole cover. You brush yourself off and take in the area around you before recognizing where you were. When you get home, you go straight to the shower to wash off your circus sewer romp in hopes to help calm your body down. You climb into bed after and pull the covers to your chin only to be haunted by the memories of your afternoon. His face flashes through your mind, those yellow eyes boring into you. Tingles dance across your skin, teasing your arousal until you can’t take it anymore. You work yourself quickly, desperate for sleep but he was even there. 

You dreamed about him, about the way he felt inside you. You heard the noises he made and felt his hands against you all over again. You awoke the next morning just as flustered as you were when you went to sleep. And it stayed this way. Every day and every night you were haunted by the memories of him and nothing was as satisfying as the way he slammed into you. Clowns no longer scared you after that. You watched them too closely now, hoping maybe one of them was him. You knew the rumors said he never hit it twice but you were desperate and only he could fill you the way you ached for. Every giggle that floated mysteriously across the air set your body and heart off. Every drain you passed, you stared at too long, hoping whatever you tossed inside would appear back on the street again after you passed. 

You groaned softly, remembering when merely days ago you were scoffing at the unreal accusations of how half the town were brain dead, having been fucked into an addiction only to now find yourself in the same position.                  

[insomniactic-daydream]

Breaking Point- Bakugo x Reader

Bakugo x Support Course Shoto's Twin Sister Reader (Part 6)

<- Previous (Part 5)

Summary: ANGST. Bakugo and Y/n get into fight, and Shoto and Y/n have a forgiveful talk.

This is more written from Shoto's perspective.

*Little Heartstopper reference*

Shoto can't remember when Y/n and Bakugo became Y/n & Bakugo. But Bakugo was there when his selfishly enraged self couldn't. So, in Shoto's book, Bakugo was alright.

The first time he saw Bakugo and Y/n interact was when the blonde scolded her for throwing the 1st challenge race at the sports festival.

Even after she made a big impression with her gear, she stopped right before the finish line. Making an even bigger impression on support companies for letting others have their moment.

Shoto never really looked to see who she'd talked to, afterall he wasn't on good terms with his twin, so he knew not to dwell into her life. So he was a bit puzzled seeing you together. You looked so relaxed, so free.

Both born from the same star, yet he thought you shined so much brighter. Instead of obeying the path Endeavor wanted, you made your own. While he took the road of driven resentment. Only recently did he start to feel bad for getting upset at you using your quirk and loving dad.

The more Shoto saw you and Bakugo, whether in the halls, at lunch, or chatting in the support classroom, the more envious he felt. He wanted to talk to you like that too, but you always seemed a shoulder's length away.

It wasn't until Bakugo got kidnapped where Shoto really saw you for the first time. Your hair turned red with anger, pushing Shoto to tell you what the hell happened at camp. For the first time, he felt scared you were going to break.

You ended up coming along to the rescue mission. Despite the group's protest, a quick threat to burn them alive shut them up enough to convince them you'll keep up. No wonder you're Bakugo's closest friend.

That day, you guys genuinely got closer; you even shared a laugh as you ridiculed his disguise. In the end, he was kinda glad Bakugo got kidnapped cause at least he had a minute with you. He was even more glad to see you around the dorms after the move. But then again, it was always for Bakugo, but you'd occasionally walk up to talk to him.

Then the license exams came, which he and Bakugo failed. The same day, you showed up to the dorms scouring for the news, which ultimately ended in a fight between Bakugo and you. Wounds were definitely opened for both of you.

"You don't get it, Y/n! You wasted your potential the second you decided you wanted to be tech support! Dont give me pity for shit you can't begin to understand!" Bakugo screams but then freezes as if he knew the words he spilled weren't true; not for him and certainly not to you.

But it was too late; lines were crossed.

"Well, luckily, I don't need your reassurance. I know what I'm doing is not wasted.

Remember, I'm the one that spilled my sweat, brains, and time just so you can go play hero.

News flash, heroes that seek for glory almost inevitably end up mistreating the ones around them, most definitely civilians. That's why you failed. No one to blame but your selfish ego, Katsuki.

You want to be a showboat hero? Fine. But don't EVER disrespect the people who helped you along the way." Y/n spat back, making sure she dug the knife as deep as he did.

And like that, he was gone. He stomps echoing the hallway, leaving you in the common room with your brother.

"Y/n?" Shoto asked a little concerned after witnessing the whole thing. Luckily, most of his classmates were off to bed from exhaustion and didn't witness the fight.

If they did hear it, they sure as hell won't ask; Bakugo is very sensitive at the moment.

"I'm alright, Shoto. Did you pass your exams?" You ask dull tone face, now wearing the same stoic face you use at home.

"No."

"Oh. Are you okay?" You asked with your concerned attention turned to him instead of the situation with the blonde. Selfless even when you're hurting, too.

"Not entirely, but no worries. I'll manage." He said in a defeated tone. He wondered if you would've excelled far better than him. He sure you would've been more selfless than the way he acted.

"Y/n, I'd like to apologize." He blurts out almost desperate to get off his chest. Your eyes widen in surprise of his outburst. You struggle to get words out.

"You didn't deserve how I treated you when we were younger. I'm sorry for my actions, I was in a place of anger and resentment, not even towards you, but I'm actively trying to get out of it." He says, bowing his head down.

"Shoto, it's okay I-"

"No, it's not. You're too kind. To Fuyumi, Natsuo, Me, and even Bakugo just now. We've all wronged you, and yet you don't push us away. You have every right to be angry. So please be angry for once." He says, almost raising his voice. Only when looking up at you does he stop.

Your hair is now white tufts popping out against the black, icicles forming around your eyes and in your hair. He's only seen this once, and it when you begged dad not to be a hero. You looked so much like Touya then.

"I can't." You say almost in a sob.

"I can never be angry at any of you. I defend myself, sure, but it always ends up making me feel worse about the situation.

I love you guys, so much. But I know that who I am, the version of myself I'm most content with... just doesn't fit into the picture." You say with tears streaming down your face. Almost falling down to your knees if it weren't for him running to hold you up.

"I'm sorry we've made you feel like you can't be yourself. I've seen the way you act around Bakugo when you think others aren't looking.

Or how lucky your friends are to see you laughing, almost seeing your hair turn to your red from how comfortable you are. I want that for you.

Please, be yourself when you're with me. And I'll make sure others don't treat you any differently. I'm sure the others feel the same, though." He says, pouring out his observations of you at school.

"You think so?" you sniffle, the strong appearance you've held on to for so long finally broke open, revealing the same little girl that just wanted her family to love her.

"You can send us all to the earth's core your quirk if I'm wrong." He says. You let out a weak but genuine laugh.

"Pft, that's funny. I didn't know you could joke like that Shoto"

"What joke?"

(Part 7) -> (Not up yet silly :3)

😀 Hi...

So I did a thing... sorry bout that.

In my defense, this had to happen. I'm trying not to make this too long of a story. (For mostly my attention span)

Don't worry, they'll make up, this is a love story. 💜

Tag List 💜: @queenriki7 @bumblebeebutter @mochimommy2002 @s3mis3m1 @your-mum3000 @juniper-july19 @finalgirlflunkie @sara4uuu @michiviv @romantasynerd05 @attackonnat @chirokookie @captainshindo @bodieohbo @junehasnotbeenfound @njyhjtjb

Want to join the Tag List? -> Click Here!

(Yall look at this Tag List 🥹 Ty yall for supporting the story!🫶💜)

[transformation4life]

Daddy Growth

"Become a real Daddy in minutes with Daddy Growth! Buy NOW!"

Those were the words that brought Dean to his local supermarket. Dean had been trying to bulk up for ages, but just couldn't no matter how hard he tried. The 22 year old was fresh out of college taking freelancing work in art and making it by but just barely. Dean was desperate for any quick solution to his muscle building problem and this product promised fast results he couldn't have driven faster to the supermarket than he already did.

"Is that all?" The cashier said to Dean as he put the bottle on the conveyor belt"

"Yea- WOAH!" Dean was shocked to see that the cashier was JACKED.

"Notice the guns? Pretty weird for someone like me to be working here yeah?" The cashier spoke with his deep voice

"Y-Yea.. a little... And how come they let you wear no shirt!" Dean was getting a little bit flustered as his attraction to guys was starting to show.

"Oh believe me, after this stuff came out dress codes got REAL lenient," He points at the bottle of Daddy Growth

"Wow... I didn't even really notice..." Dean twiddled with his thumbs.

"Don't worry about it, bud. Say... random question but are you a parent?"

"W-Wha? No... I'm only 22!" Dean was shocked to get asked that by a random person let alone a buff one.

"I see... yea good luck with that. Here's your bottle. Have a great day!" The man said with a wink giving Dean shivers.

Dean arrived home shortly after with the bottle in hand a little shaken by the whole experience, but was still determined this bottle will be the solution to all his problems. Dean carefully inspected the bottle instructions: Step 1: Open Bottle

Step 2: Drink bottle all at once

Step 3: Enjoy The Muscle!

Warning:sideeffectsmayincluderapidagingrealitychangingsuddenlybecomingaparentofabodybuildingsonlocationchangeandrealitychange

"Seems simple enough. I can't understand the warning though... Oh well!" Dean popped the bottle open and drank the whole thing in one chug.

"Damn... that was actually pretty refreshing... so now what..." Dean pranced around the room expecting something to happen but a couple minutes pass and nothing did.

"Is this a scam? Did i just spend 20 dollars on a drink? Hell why do I always fall for these kind of thi-" A jolt hit Dean as he clenched his head in pain.

Dean's body began to sweat at a rapid rate as his body began to grow. First to grow was his chest as they ballooned up into two massive clashing meat mounds with sweat adorning their surface. Next to change was Dean's stomach as a sexy set of abs popped in with the sweat making them glisten. Soon after Dean's arms became behemoths in size both having large biceps and triceps and... veins with an accompanying back widening and shoulders prop up! That marked the end of Dean's button up as a loud *rip* led the shirt to fall to the floor. As the shirt fell it was beginning to change. The buttons fell off as the sleeves rescinded and the shirts blue became a white with a black rim until it was the perfect bodybuilder tank top. Letter by letter the words "Better Bodies Gym Issues" appeared with the change finished right as it reached Dean's feet.

The top of Dean's body had their fun so it was the lower half was ready to grow with the thighs as thick as chickens and godlike status were already forming on his legs. Dean's feet growing by a couple inches whole too good thing he wasn't wearing any shoes. Unlike his shirt dean's bottoms held on pretty tightly before becoming elastic and breathable shorts as a direct cut sliced his pants right above his now thick knees as the rough material became more free. The leftover material wrapped around his feet becoming a nice pair of blue and black shoes with the laces tied tightly. Everything about Dean had changed besides his head, but not for long.

The main change began as Dean's body began to age. Wrinkles forming in the face and general gruffness that definitely didn't suit the 22 year old as he became someone in their late 40's as derek gained some stubble and his hair flattened and became slicked to the side with some gray hairs here and there as well. Dean couldn't speak through the whole ordeal as the pain in his body was too much, but it was finally over... right? WRONG

Dean's room morphed into a busy gym in a flash as the pain subsided little by little. Dean was able to snap back to reality as he now realized he wasn't in his room anymore and he was sweating like a bullet... on a workout bench? Dean couldn't even speak as a gold necklace with a cross wrapped itself around Dean's thick neck signifying the end of the changes.

"W-What... happened... to..." Dean couldn't process what just happened. How did he get at the gym and why did he feel sweaty.

Just then he felt something move. It was his new pecs... bouncing.

Dean looked down to see his new BIG and MEATY body in complete dumbfoundery. The drink actually worked. He became a "daddy"! Dean immediately stood up and flexed to the nearby mirror.

Dean looked great and he KNEW it. He did every bodybuilder thing under the book. Flexing, pec bouncing, and touching his muscles. the works and Dean loved every second of it. He felt like a new man!

The fun had to end though when someone walked up to Dean with a look that definitely wasn't friendly.

"Dean. What are you doing here?" It was a sterner older man not dissimilar to one Dean met at the store.

Dean wasn't sure what to say and just looked at the guy and spoke nothing.

"That's all you got to say to me? Your SON has been looking for you!" Wait... Son? Dean didn't have a son, let alone sex! How did he-

"Not to be rude sir, but I don't have a son I just drank this potion and-"

"Don't sir me, young man! I am your TRAINER. Now take off your tank top that shit is too sweaty to show your son!"

Dean not wanting to be rude to his "Trainer" reluctantly removed the tank top in order to satisfy him.

"Now put this on!" The trainer holding a tank with the word Evogen surrounded by stars.

Dean put it on and when he put it on he felt... comfortable in it. Almost like he's been wearing it for the past ten years. Like he...

Suddenly a whole slew of memories came flooding into Dean. Firstly being the 20+ years of life now under his belt, his years bodybuilding, and of course his son. Daniel. Dean always loved how the rascal took after him ever since he was young.

"Wait... no I don't-" Dean fought against the memories but when he saw the spitting image of his son in his mind dancing just like how Dean remembered he would, he felt at ease he somehow helped brought someone into this world.

Xander was a lot like his father. A bodybuilder and knew when to have fun. Dean was proud of him more than any father could ask for.

"Feel better now?" The trainer he now remembered as his longtime friend Ron.

"I'd say... yeah," Dean giving his pecs a firm lift.

And right on cue came Dean's just as big son.

"Hey pops," Xander was sweating from presumably a workout.

"Son! Good to see you! How's... Maria?" Dean randomly blurted out the name, but somehow knew it was related to his son.

"Oh, she's doing great! I'm so glad you were so accepting me being straight dad, you know how you can be sometimes?

"Know how I can be sometimes? What do you mean oh son of mine?" Dean said in a cocky manner before getting into a dance.

"That's what I mean dad! Anyways... ready to workout?" Dean almost already forgot he was supposed to be working out with his son.

Wait... what just happened? How did this all happen? Dean didn't realize that none of this was normal. First he become buff and older and not to mention has a child??? That's not normal in the slightest. Even with the new memories he still he had his old ones, the ones where he was skinny and scrawny and lived in a shoddy apartment, but he also had the memories of his kid and living in a big house. The mix of memories was getting to his head, and yet when he saw his new life and now body... he was fine with this. All this. He's never been a parent, but it won't hurt to try! And this BIG body is a huge bonus Dean can't complain at all. Now the real question is who did he fu-

"Dad? You good? We should head to the machines!" Xander looking at his father with confusion

"Oh! Sorry my boy, just lost in thought. Let's get to work!" Derek gave a confident flex to his son.

"Well I'll see you two later. Have fun!" Ron promptly left to help out other bodybuilders.

This new life was gonna be a bit hard for Dean to adjust to and Dean knew that and his old life was over but he was ready to start anew in exchange for this sexy body.

And so the new Dean waddled his way to the workout machines with his new son and looked as hot as hell doing it. He was a real Daddy now!

[cheriladycl01]

The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader Part 6

Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula One into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookies within the 2022 line up!

'Where is Y/N Y/L/N' was the talk of the paddock on the coastline of Miami after you missed media day on Thursday. Zhou was there alone trying his best to make funny content but clearly the lack of you there was affecting him.

The presenters for Sky Sports also could tell there was a lack of you in the paddock. Obviously it was still loud thanks to Lando and those kinds of energies.

But where it was media day people didn't think too much of it, maybe you slept in and was too embarrassed to rock up late, or maybe you missed your Wednesday flight ... or maybe you'd been asked by your PR team not to show up because of everything with you and Lewis in the media right now.

There was a lot of noise around Lewis and you. A lot of it wasn't kind either, the worst being that people assumed you slept your way into your seat as the only woman in F1. This started a spiral of hate towards you, people had somehow doxed you and death threats had been sent to your home and you couldn't even log into your socials because it was so bad.

When you didn't arrive for the first free practice that's when more attention was brought to your absence.

"Have you guys seen Y/N?" Carlos asks the little group he was stood with, concerned he hadn't seen you.

"No, she wasn't here yesterday for media day and she didn't come out in FP1, her side of the garage was actually so slow and empty. Their main focus was on getting Zhou out!" Lando admitted having seen with his own eyes what your absence had done to the team.

"As a rookie it's risky missing free practice, maybe they'll announce a replacement for her tonight?" Charles offers sipping on his drink that he'd taken with him from their hospitality.

"I can't believe it, I wonder what's going on!" Daniel nods, wondering why the paddock princess wasn't here.

Things got stranger when you also didn't turn up for FP2 on the same day.

You also weren't there the next morning and everyone was thinking Alpha Romeo were going to have their first DNS of the season where you still weren't around.

It was around 20 minutes until qualifying was supposed to start when someone noticed your paddock pass had been scanned in. They sent someone from the FIA to search and see if it was a mistake or if you had in fact come in.

By the time someone reached the garage to ask you were already in your car waiting to come out for qualifying. You were nervous as hell, you'd missed out on all the free practices and never driven the Miami circuit.

You drove out and ended Q3 in P14, one away from the cut off and it was on a lap where you'd only just managed to get passed the flag in time to get that vital last lap in. Zhou despite having been around the whole weekend and participating in all the free practice sessions didn't have as great a run as you coming P17 and being eliminated for Q2.

Come Q2 and the commentators were in shock with how quickly you were coming to grips with the track. You were only a few tenths of a second off Lando's time coming in P6, a drastic change from your previous result.

You stayed sat in the car in Q3, everyone in the garage knew you didn't really want to talk right now. So it was only you engineer talking to you every now and then telling you stats and times.

Q3 again was pretty good and you were managing to start P5. And considering the week you've had you felt really good about that result.

The rest of the weekend just had awkward vibes, you could tell in your post race interviews how much you didn't want to be there.

"Y/N, it's great to see you back around here and what a great result for you despite being absent for all your free practice sessions!" the interviewer says and you just nod, it wasn't a question. It was a statement so you didn't have to answer.

"How do you feel about that result?" they ask.

"Yeah, good. I think I got as much as I could out the car as I could!" you reply and the interviewer sighs knowing this would be a hard interviewer seeing as this was the first time they were experiencing icy and cold Y/N.

You ended up the interviews quickly, your PR apologizing to the last few saying you wouldn't be doing any more of them.

You went back to the hotel exhausted, just wanting to sleep and get this weekend over.

Twitter was going crazy over how you had been acting in your interviews, your fans specifically were really concerned and of course because it was brought up online all the other drivers saw their reactions and had to go look for themselves.

The ones who hadn't really interacted with you just put it down to an off day, which did happen with drivers particularly rookies who were being too hard on themselves which wasn't uncommon in the newbies.

But for those who did know you and had made the effort to welcome you to the sport, like Zhou, like Carlos, like Lewis, like Charles and Lando and George and Alex ...

They all could tell something was seriously wrong, but it seemed impossible for anyone to get hold of you.

Even the next day on race day, you showed up in the paddock for the national anthem of America, and were ushered straight to your car by your PR team, all the other drivers sharing a look of confusion.

You looked so exhausted and worn out, but they didn't know why.

The race wasnt good, as well as being tired from a severe lack of sleep, there was also your mental state affecting your drive. So you went from P5 down to P7, still in the points but it just didn't really feel ... good enough and you went back to the hotel disappointed.

Your PR team had refused you do any media after the shit show you caused with your bluntness yesterday and thoughts it's best to send you on your way to Switzerland to sort everything out that had been happening and get ready for Spain.

"Charles, she wont answer me..." Carlos had complained to Charles worried about the young driver.

"I don't know Carlos, we're all routing for her and hoping she's okay but maybe she just needs some time alone because of all the pressure. She the first in years to be here, as a woman you know... i cant imagine the pressure she's been feeling" Charles explains with a sigh.

"Mmmmm Toto have you heard anything about Y/N... she's well I don't think she's okay!" Lewis asked his boss in the Mercedes garage.

"Mmmm nothing, but i'll reach into my contacts. I knew her since she was 13 because she was the frist female Mercedes Development Driver/ Young Driver we sponsored. It's a shame really she isn't driving for one of our teams" Toto sighs, knowing Lewis wanted answers starting to tap away on his phone.

You knew these people cared about you, but right now... what you were dealing with and experiencing, you didn't want to drag any of them into.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[morganski-19]

For any of my buddie shippers or gay eddie truthers who feels like episode 5 is a massive blow, it's not over yet. I think that we've really been harping on episode 6 being the big coming out getting together scene, and that has let us fall into false hope. And I honestly have had the stance that buddie, if it does happen this season, will be in the latter half of the season.

This is not a story that should be rushed. Oliver talks about how he wants Buck to have a slow burn. Eddie needs time to figure out himself, and deal with his trauma. That can't happen in the first six episode where three of them are just the opening emergency. It just wouldn't make narrative sense.

Let's remember the three act structure that is so prevalent in a lot of media. Because I am terrible at explaining things, I’ve put in a picture.

This season has 18 episodes, so we are very much still in the set up stage of this season. I think that since most of the plot points from season 7 are wrapped up except for Eddie and Christopher's, it is a good bet that their story line will be driven in this narrative.

I think the inciting incident was that scene with Weston's dad in episode 4. It shows how Eddie feels about this situation more, and can bring out a lot of growth and movement as he tries to get Chris back.

Episode 6 would be 1/3 of the way through the season, and considering it is a direct parallel to eddie begins, I am considering that plot point 1.

Now here is where the speculation really starts. The mid point would be the episode before the winter break, and I think that will involve Eddie going to El Paso and getting Chris back.

Therefore, the rising action for this would be Eddie working through his own issues. Learning how to love himself, and starting his path to discovery. However, I honestly don't see him figuring it all out before Chris comes home.

No matter how this storyline will play out, Chris will be mad at Eddie the whole season. Their resolution will not happen until the end, after the climax.

I think the climax will be Eddie figuring out he is gay, and coming out to his son. Then, the two of them figuring out what that means for the both of them. Eddie grappling with how he can be gay and still have loved Shannon in the past. And Chris dealing with how his dad dated all of these woman for his betterment. Also dealing with the fact that his parents were not in love the way he thought they were.

Buddie, if it happens this season, will be part of the denouement. Because, while all of this is happening with Eddie and Chris, Buck will have his own storyline. One that will be very in line with Eddie's, because of how involved he is in the Diaz's life.

I think that, even if Buck and Tommy don't break up in episode 6 like I hope, their relationship won't last. Putting my hopes for Buddie aside, they are simply just not compatible as a couple. Buck will realize this on his own, whether that be his plot point one, or the climax of his story. It would then, allow for Buck to truly understand his feelings for Eddie, and give the audience that longing that a slow burn needs.

Because although us Buddie fans consider their relationship as a slow burn, the general public might not. They need to create that longing for all audiences, and not just us.

It is also good to mention that there is no Buddie without Chris. It almost wouldn't make sense to have Buddie happen without Chris in the picture.

[dairy-farmer]

Good Morning (time neutral)! This going to be a long one because there's quite a bit of backstory involved~❤️

Sooooo, there's a fic called Hasn't This Kid Ever Heard of Stranger Danger? (https://archiveofourown.org/works/41872041/chapters/105073314) that I really like: Very long story somewhat short, Jason's death and return happens on a much more compressed time scale so that he gets back to Gotham to start Hooding it up when Tim is still a younger side of 13. As part of his information gathering, Jason basically hides out and watches from a tree on the Drake property as Tim returns home every night: he does not like what he sees.

See, because of a combination of 'I can't get close to this kid, I can't take the pain of losing Jason someone again', Bruce generally still lashing out in grief, and Tim's debilitating self-esteem issues (thanks Jack and Janet 😠), Tim is not (at least obviously/observably) close with Waynes outside of being Robin. Because of this, Tim absolutely refuses to stay in the Manor no matter how injured he is, because of a combination of fear of slashing out but also of overstaying his welcome and being driven off to be alone again. So Jason basically sees Tim coming home alone after patrol every night, almost always with injuries of varying degrees - arm wrapped up tight in a bandage, bruises and stuff, limping, ect. And Jason starts to stop being mad at Tim and becomes even more furious with Bruce and the rest of them.

(In this time, Tim has noticed someone watching him from the tree -and doesn't say anything to Bruce because he's worried about being a bother- and has taken to leaving packaged food and bottled water under the tree; basically like they're a feral cat he's trying to befriend.)

After a couple months of this, Tim has a really bad day and finally stands under the tree to invite Jason down/into his house, letting Jason know that Tim has figured out who he is ("Red Hood? Jason?... Robin?"😿), at which point Jason immediately adopts/becomes a big brother to Tim. (There's also Jason reconciling with the family, Tim getting very injured because of his parents doing stupid shit, and lots of therapy for everyone). Great Story!

But to my point: there is a scene fairly early, after Jason has basically started living with Tim as his big brother but during which time Dick and Bruce have no idea about any of this, where Jason rescues the three of them from the mission gone wrong. But see, since this is before any therapy, Jason and Tim are fairly codependent and close. Jason pulls a whole "Back away from the Baby Bird" thing with the bad guys before shooting them. During the exchange, one of the bad guys notices the possessive edge with which Jason refers to Tim/Robin and makes a comment suggesting Jason is in a naughty relationship with Robin. Obviously Jason kills them immediately after that, and checks on an injured Tim first, calling him Baby Bird and petting his hair and checking for concussion.

(It's a great scene: Bruce is out of commission and Dick is pretty heavily concussed, but Dick is worried the bad guys are right and that the Red Hood is going to kidnap Tim and do terrible things to him - if he hasn't already! Dick tasers Jason, it's a whole thing.)

SO... To the actual prompt/idea: The Wayne's/other people think Jason is taking advantage of/trying to groom Tim.

Setup: Firstly, in the fic Jason 18(ish) and Tim is 13. So that's messed with some numbers and the timeline! Let's forget the accelerated timeline of Jason's death and recovery and let's say Jason died at 14, spent 6 months dead, 6 months and 2 years catatonic, one and a half(ish) years post pit with the league, in 6 months causing trouble and stalking Tim. The whole Tim intervention thing happens when Tim is 10 instead of 12, and Tim spends the first one to two years training and only going out on patrol very very occasionally: enough that people know there is still a Robin, but Tim only really became an act of patrol member around the time Jason showed up in the city. Now, dear Dairy, you may ask why have I messed with the timeline in such a way? Because this way I can say that mentally Jason is only about 16, instead of around 19: 5 years may have passed since his death, but only two of those were when Jason was conscious and mentally growing.

Second, the bad guys were right; Jason is in a relationship with Tim.

Tim is so sweet and gentle and desperate for attention, and is there for the perfect Target for an evil groomer to take advantage of. But in this case, it's Jason! Jason was Robin and would never do something like that! So now Jason is spending time with him and caring about him and in general just acknowledging that he exists. And Jason absolutely loathes adults who prey on children, to a murderous degree. But, because he is mentally 16 and Tim is 13, he doesn't see his love and attraction to Tim as a problem: 16-year-olds and 13 year old date all the time!

Just imagine the drama! The Wayans finally acknowledge, after the horrible incident with the mission gone wrong and Red Hood saving them, that they do in fact love Tim and see him as part of the family. And! Jason is alive! Bruce and Dick and Alfred are so happy, their family is back together and has even grown a bit with the addition of Tim: Jason and Tim might be clingy and physically affectionate, but that's fine! They're both traumatized and leave each other as brothers!

... Until Dick walks in on them in the library making out: Tim sitting on Jason's lap, legs on either side of his, so small that even in this position Jason has to lean down to kiss him. Dick might have even found it.. sweet or cute?... If it wasn't a 19-year-old making out with a 13-year-old baby!!! Oh shit, oh shit! The goons in the warehouse were right! Dick's little brother back from the dead was molesting his new younger brother 😱! The fact that Jason is his brother and he loves them is the only reason that Dick doesn't straight up attack him, instead just storming in to yank Tim off his lap and start screaming and yelling.

All the noise brings Bruce and Alfred running, and they walk in on Dick squeezing and trapping Tim in his arms while screaming at Jason with angry, hurt, and scared tears in his eyes. The two eldest men managed to calm the situation down and ask what happened. Dick explains what he walked in on, and of course Bruce and Alfred are horrified! Except... Jason and Tim, well obviously alarmed at everyone's actions, also look... confused.

Bruce insists that Jason and Tim explain their side of the situation -maybe it's just a huge misunderstanding? Well, it turns out that it kind of is; Jason only views himself as being 3 years older and more mature than Tim, since he spent three of the last 5 years dead and/or catatonic. Hell, because Jason died so young, he never even really had a girlfriend or boyfriend! He's basically as inexperienced as Tim. So really it's a perfectly normal relationship without a huge power gap that just so happens to look like a huge 19 year old man molesting a barely teen.

Bruce, Dick, and Alfred just being so stressed because while legally Jason is committing a crime by being with Tim, for anyone with all of the information there is nothing wrong going on.

Also, I picture cis-male Tim in this like in the inspiring story, but honestly it doesn't matter if he's cis or trans. (But I do really like the image of the size difference - Jason with a massive grown man cock, rubbing against Tim's little, barely pubescent one. Jason being able to take Tim's entire cock - and maybe his balls- into his mouth with no effort, and Tim being so embarrassed and self-conscious about the fact that he can barely fit the head of Jason's in his mouth. Of course, once Tim is fully grown it will all have even out; Jason will actually have to pay attention to blow Tim and Tim will be able to fit more than half of Jason's cock in his mouth.)

ethically dubious jaytim relationship yes!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️ they're so happy and content and feel safe with one another. jason losing years to the whole debacle means that his physical age doesn't match his mental age and so of course he feels attracted to tim because jason was still a teenager as well! and tim is in such a precarious place and has never had the devoted love and attention of another person and while he doesn't consciously realize it, the fact that jason is so much older is a plus because it fills that need in tim's brain to be protected and loved by an older male.

it being such an uncomfy situation for bruce and dick and alfred who see them together and can't help but just FEEL its wrong. even though they know the circumstances are unique they can't help but tense up whenever jason and tim are around others- they've warned the two to keep their relationship quiet and under wraps because of the tricky situation and how it all looks. tim and jason are so innocent with their relationship but that doesn't mean the three of them aren't pacing back and forth the first time they have sex. little 13 year old tim is having sex with a near 20 year old under their roof and they're letting it happen, they're actively encouraging it by providing them with condoms and a room to fuck in-

just the complex mind fuckyness of it all ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[according2thelore]

i love the es/ls verse SO MUCCCHHHH!!! sam’s self-hatred towards his younger self in that last one is just - mwah! chef’s kiss! he’s so jealous of him and he also believes that that kid doesn’t deserve dean!! meanwhile younger sam hates older sam for what he’s become, but he’s jealous, too. ah!! amazing!

and dean not understanding and getting angry with sam’s self hatred is so wonderful. it’s like one if their key issues, but now it’s not a theoretical issue, it’s A Guy. and his name is 23y/o Sam Winchester.

you’re sooo amazing. love this so much. would love to see more if you’ve got it - the deans not understanding the sams’ negative feelings towards each other, and getting protective over it

hello, anon!

you get it: "it’s like one if their key issues, but now it’s not a theoretical issue, it’s A Guy. and his name is 23y/o Sam Winchester." HAHAHAHA you nailed it!

thank you so much!!! that means a lot--mwah mwah! <3

i always have more of it, lol!

~~~

"hey."

sam looks up sharply, startled. dean--his dean, young dean--is standing in the doorway of their shared bedroom in the bunker. his arms are crossed, and he looks peeved. he leans against the doorway, and he crosses his ankles in a practiced show of nonchalance.

"you don't need to talk to him like that." dean says, jaw ticking. sam snorts derisively, turning back around. he continues folding the shirt in his hand, and smacks it to his bed with enough force that it comes unfolded again.

sam doesn't reach for it again, just grabbing another.

"yeah. great. thanks dean." sam says. he's exhausted. anger--his old friend--rises up in him, but he can't even be bothered to put the energy in to stoke it.

after he confronted older sam in the kitchen, older dean's words pierced deep. i'm disappointed in you. sam feels like a chastened child. he is, in a way.

"what's that supposed to mean?" dean asks, stepping into the room. sam can feel him get closer. hates it. he folds his shirt faster, and doesn't look up at him.

"you took his side. i knew you would." sam spits the words like the poison they are. of course dean would pick the sam that doesn't fight with him, that doesn't want anything else.

dean stops, somewhere behind him, and sam hates that he can feel his brother without seeing him--a skill he had gotten on his knees and thanked god for when he was younger.

"okay what's with this--" dean fumbles for words. "this 'side' thing? it's just one side."

"no." sam finally whirls on him, dropping the shirt onto the bed. "it's not."

"sam." dean's brow is furrowed, and his voice is firm. "you need to back off. he's trying. he's been super cool with us staying here and--"

sam scoffs.

"spare me your hard-on." he spits. dean's eyebrows raise, and heat starts spotting his cheeks. sam wants to take him to the ground, until the reason dean's cheeks are pink are sam's hands, sam.

"that! what the fuck is that? back off!" dean shouts, and his hands ball at his sides. he doesn't deny it.

"back off? back off?" sam is incandescent with rage, his earlier apathy lighting aflame like dry tinder. "am i suddenly an asshole for not wanting to be here? for wanting to get home? i though that's what we wanted."

"it is--you know it is!"

"do i? do i fucking really?" sam gets in dean's face, shoves him back a step. "you're practically salivating whenever he walks into a room, you take his side in everything, you act like he's mother fucking teresa--"

dean's cheeks keep rising in colour, but his face is drawn into a furious scowl. he shoves sam back. sam's skin screams, buzzes, where dean touches it.

"he's you!"

"no, he's not!" sam shoves him back.

"sam." dean looks at him like he's crazy. sam feels like he is crazy, that this whole thing has driven him completely mad. "he is. he literally is. you're dogging on my little brother."

sam blinks hard, trying to fight off the sudden, blinding bite of tears.

"fuck you." sam spits. fuck dean for saying that like it's nothing. for claiming him like it's nothing. my little brother. dean only has one little brother.

"i'm--" sam starts, but cuts himself off because his voice is humiliatingly high. dean's face changes, irritation slipping into incredulity. sam wants him to stop thinking immediately. "stop that."

"are you--" dean's face splits into a grin.

"shut up, i swear to god--" sam begs, sitting down on his bed heavily and covering his eyes with his hands.

"you're jealous! or something! you're weird!" dean crows, and sam pitches to the side as dean's weight slams down onto the bed next to him.

sam moves his hands. dean is sitting on the side of his bed, tilted towards him and looking down at him. sam scowls.

he knows their MO is mockery and sarcasm, but for one fucking second, he just wants his brother to take him seriously. to take his side.

"i will take you down." sam threatens lowly, and throws an arm over his face. he waits for a beat, hoping dean will go away.

"sam." dean's voice is disappointingly close. "sammy, look at me."

sam is so shocked that dean has given him his name back that he moves his arm away. he sits up on his elbows. dean looks surprisingly somber, as he says:

"i'm not built to look at people be mean to 'sam.'" dean puts air quotes around his name. sam snorts, but dean just raises his eyebrows. "i'm not. i am hardwired to want to fuck up sammy's bullies. kinda my whole thing."

he's smiling a little at the end. sam softens. just a bit. he's not used to dean wanting to protect other people. he's not used to becoming a second priority in dean's life, in dean choosing a third party over sam's opinion, not since dad died.

"are you...are you calling me a bully?" sam asks, half-amused, half-irritated. dean rolls his eyes, but looks frustrated, like he can't even tell what he means.

"i'm saying. i...don't know. i'm kinda...protective over the guy. he's a sammy." dean shrugs. sam tilts his head, thinking.

"so you're saying if i get him to be a dick to me, you'll suplex him over a table?"

"oh yeah. i'll get a stepladder to reach him and everything." dean assures. sam snorts.

they sit in silence for a second, dean looking down at sam's face, and sam looking up at the ceiling, to give dean the chance to look. in a few minutes, it'll be sam's turn to look at dean while dean looks away.

a thought occurs to sam, though, and he looks over. dean obediently looks away, though there's a frown tugging at the edge of his lip, like he's annoyed his time was cut short.

"i'm not promising anything until you promise to be nice to big dean." sam says, and dean makes a disapproving, alarmed noise. he looks back at sam, eyes wide.

"that old fart? that's totally different. he's a dick. sammy's actually great and brilliant and nice and huge, so." dean tilts his chin up, like he's made a point. sam's chest seizes briefly around the impression of something--unused to and displeased with hearing dean praise someone else like this.

"hey!" sam says sharply, holding up an accusing finger. "dean's not that bad."

"hypocrite." "hypocrite." they say at once, dean's lower tone layering underneath sam's.

they blink at each other.

and--for the first time in too damn long--two brothers dissolve in, frankly, giggles. sam slumps forward into dean's arm, and dean scrubs a hand through his hair.

~~~

"he's trying his best." dean mutters into sammy's bare shoulder. sammy closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of dean's chapped lip on his skin.

their younger selves were probably hashing it out, too, a wing away.

sammy turns around in dean's arms, and sam nudges his way under dean's chin. dean lifts his head obediently, and sam exhales against dean's bare chest. he wishes he were still small enough to fit here completely.

even his younger self couldn't do this, anymore.

"i know." sam says, finally. he doesn't have to ask "i think...i think i hate him."

dean's arms seize around sam's shoulders.

"no, you don't. he's a kid. a baby."

my kid. my baby. dean's words don't say. sam hears them. he hates them. that's why he hates this kid. among many reasons. he's so blindly arrogant, so violent, so harsh. so fucking prideful. head full of his own words and heart full of fire. and dean looks at him like he looks at sammy.

"no, i don't." sammy acquiesces. and he doesn't. "resent" is probably a better word.

dean reads his silences so well that he starts petting through sam's hair. it should feel infantilizing, but it doesn't. sam sighs. he's an adult. and in a second, he'll pull away and deal with this like a regular person.

"do you miss him?" sam asks, after a long pause. him. sam. the sam i used to be. the sam that sits a dozen rooms over, talking to his own brother.

"i'll always miss you." dean says. "all versions of my pain in the ass are my pains in the ass."

sam snorts, but it's half-hearted, quiet.

there are worse things, sam supposes, than being loved to the point of absurdity. to the point of forgiveness. to the point of dean loving all versions of him, all the time.

"as long as i'm your favourite." sam murmurs. dean noses along his hairline, breathes deep in sam's hair. sammy knows dean isn't good at saying it out loud. but the soft lips at his temple are answer enough for him. dean's horrifyingly sappy when he's quiet.

you're always my favourite.

~~~

thank you for your patience, anon! i hope you enjoyed!!!! life kinda came at me w a baseball bat, so i'm sorry it took so long to respond! i hope you see this :)

-lizzy

[mxlfoydraco]

I swear I liked a drarry reclist from you for this, but now I can't find it :x do you have any recs for drarry fics where Draco has muggle friends or embraces a more muggle lifestyle? Bonus points if Draco is gay in them because it pulls me out of the story if he has a single straight man thought....(I mean really....the audacity)

First of all, same. Second, I have a list, Draco in the Muggle World, I'm adding on:

Draco in the Muggle World Pt.2

The Liars Department by DorthyAnn (103k)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is. And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what’s he doing right, that Harry isn’t? Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years. And that’s what starts it all.

Knead by @jovialobservationanchor (83k)

This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy’s lean arms.

The Man Who Lived by @e-sebastian (253k)

Draco breaks a cup, and one thing leads to another. A story of redemption, tattoos, dreams, mistakes, green eyes, long conversations, and copious amounts of coffee.

Set in New York twelve years after the war.

find a new place to be from by @oflights (47k)

Something is wrong with Malfoy Manor, and it’s driven Draco into the Muggle world. Thankfully, Harry is now on the case. A story about houses that haunt you and homes built for two.

you bring me home by @softlystarstruck (35k)

Harry is happy. He has his cat cafe and his hobbies. He has his friends, and Dolly Parton, and a shirt with a cowboy frog on it. It’s all a man needs, really. He doesn’t need to obsess over a magic-less, anxious Draco Malfoy coming into his cafe after disappearing from the wizarding world years ago. He doesn’t. Not even if the cats like Malfoy. Not even if Malfoy is soft, and funny, and a little bit neurotic. No matter how much he wants to obsess.

Sourdough by @academicdisasterfic (17k)

Draco writes romance novels and doesn’t leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.

Make Yourself by @anyaelizabethfic (103k)

Harry just wants to be safe within the freshly painted walls of Grimmauld Place, with his friends around him. But when he hears Draco Malfoy has been spotted at the local soup kitchen, he can’t help but encourage a different type of stray to come under his roof.

Star Quality by who_la_hoop (118k)

Two years after the war, and Harry’s content with his life. OK, so it’s a little annoying that he keeps winning Witch Weekly’s Most Eligible Bachelor award, and he’s really not looking forward to the unveiling of an enormous gold statue of himself, but he loves his friends, and he loves being an Auror. And if he yearns for something more, something he can barely bring himself to think about, well, he’ll probably get over it. No one’s happy all the time, are they? But then everything changes, and Harry’s thrown into a new and dazzling world he’s not sure he can actually escape from. And as time goes on, he starts to wonder: does he actually want to?

Rebel, Rebel by @makeitp1nk (28k)

Thirty-six year old Harry Potter is the coolest bloke in muggle Camden Town. That’s right — he’s left the wizarding world behind and has been living his best life ever since. But will one chance encounter with a certain blond from his past change everything? Yeah, probably.

(Un)wanted by @aibidil (36k)

Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.

The Miseducation of Draco Malfoy by @magpiefngrl (37k)

Zacharias Smith writes a tell-all about the D.A. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are not happy about it.

Had To Be You by @lettersbyelise (59k)

Draco Malfoy is possibly the last person Harry expects to find at the wheel of a Muggle car, on a beautiful summer day on the road to London. This is the story of how Harry runs into Draco once, twice, three times, and how he doesn’t leave their next meeting to chance. A fic inspired by When Harry Met Sally

Chasing Shadows by @manixzen (93k)

The murder of Lucius Malfoy seems impossible—no cause of death, no traces of spell-work, no potions in his system. The only leads Harry and his partner have are the trail of missing wizards the deeper they go. That and the help of the victim’s estranged son who now spends his time bartending at a queer-friendly Muggle pub. A case fic featuring a closeted Harry Potter, an out-and-proud, tattooed Draco Malfoy, and a murder mystery that seems to lead to more questions than answers.

coffee & communication: a (slow) romance by @softlystarstruck (10k)

Nearly a decade after the war, Draco has made a life for himself in Muggle London, writing romance novels and hanging out with his cat. But when he spills iced coffee all over a gorgeous man who turns out to be Harry Potter, has he tumbled into the start of his own romance without realizing it? And how difficult can it be to talk about desire, anyways? He writes smut for a living. Surely it can't be that difficult.

Meddling, Menswear, and Magic by @writcraft (18k)

Draco Malfoy is working in a job he hates and avoiding the magical world entirely, but he really is fine. When a bequest from Severus Snape brings Draco back to a much-changed magical world, he must find his place within it and navigate his growing attraction to Harry Potter in the process.

Way Down We Go by @xiaq (109k)

The war was over. Or at least that’s what the papers said. They’d been saying it, for months, as if people needed reminding. Maybe they did.

In which Harry and Draco both run away from their pasts and conveniently choose to hide in the same tiny American town. It’s super.

100 Beats per Minute by @oknowkiss (13k)

When Draco left the Magical World behind at nineteen, he didn't expect the cusp of thirty would find him comfortable and secure, with a stable life and a successful career as a sex columnist. Stable, that is, until he meets the subject of his newest column -- a stranger calling himself James, who has dragged them both to Ibiza on a sex quest of epic proportions -- and everything Draco ever knew turns upside down all over again.

Prats, Parcels, and Parseltongue by @ronbinary (10k)

Harry is the Muggle world's first snake-only veterinarian. Life is good, and calm, for once. Until Draco Malfoy shows up with a snake. And then another. And then he won't stop coming in.

Full by @orange-peony (16k)

The door opens and the bell goes ding. Draco’s eyes immediately fly to the entrance of his bookshop, his heart beating madly in the hope that it’s him.

The Year of Non-Magical Thinking by @whiskyandwildflowers (13k)

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Potter. I'll think of something. So will you. But this is my journey to self-actualization," Draco managed to smirk. "You can fuck off and get your own."

In the Shape of Things to Come by @academicdisasterfic (15k)

Existential angst and chronic boredom are plaguing Harry Potter in his cushy post-war life. However, a chance encounter with a tattooed, pierced, disgruntled Draco Malfoy in the middle of Muggle Camden seems to spark something in Harry again—and he never could stay away from Malfoy. Ft. assorted methods of body modification, eclectic but loving friends, a wide variety of grunge music, long tube rides, and a whole lot of trans love.

When You Kiss Me (What A Lovely Way To Burn) by @femmequixotic (22k)

A drag fairytale of New York in which Draco wears red lipstick and Potter can’t get enough.

Enjoy the Silence by @shealwaysreads (3k)

Draco stops speaking, gets some tattoos, and discovers that Harry’s happy to be quiet with him.

There's No Espresso in Azkaban by @sassy-cissa (7k)

When Harry finds Draco working in a Starbucks, he finds coffee has suddenly become more interesting.

Let Rainwater Wash Away by @carpemermaidtales (6k)

Harry really needed to learn the importance of carrying an umbrella. Or, maybe he didn’t, since not carrying one led him to stumble upon Draco Malfoy’s antique shop while seeking shelter from a thunderstorm.

Google drive link for all Gallaplacidia fics by @geesenoises

Exposure by GallaPlacidia (26k)

When Seamus uncovers Draco Malfoy’s camboy profile, he, Harry and Ron decide to anonymously book a private show so as to humiliate him later. Fascinated by Draco’s confidence, Harry keeps booking private shows under the disguise…

Can I Tell You Something by GallaPlacidia (33k)

It's not a party unless Draco Malfoy is there. He's so fun! So wild! So crazy! So many drugs! So many drugs. Too many drugs? Harry's starting to think it's probably a lot too many drugs. This is not a drug addiction recovery fic, although there is a drug addiction recovery. Feat. character development through wide-eyed MDMA trips and Draco Malfoy finding peace as a burlesque dancer.

[blamemma]

30 maxiel!!!

things I wish you’d said - this literally does not fit this prompt at all really, it does if you squint really hard at the end, but anyway :)) - 2,072 words - yes we're out of the depressed daniel era, but sometimes u just need to sit down and re-visit it for a lil cry

In the end, Daniel has to take a break from everything. Racing. Social Media. Public Events. Every One. Michael. His parents. Max.

He buys a converted van, featuring a sofa that pulls out into a single bed, a tiny kitchen, and a shower he can just about squeeze into, and heads out along the coast of Australia. He turns his phone off for the most part, only using it for Maps and to message the group chat his family forced him to set up every two days, a small update and a selfie, so they know he's okay, alive.

He avoids tourist trap areas; he received enough sympathetic looks and kind words in Abu Dhabi, can't face strangers who barely know who he is or what he feels, coming up to him and passing on their condolences.

He drives and drives and drives and drives.

Open road. Sandy banks. Rock faces and dried out trees. Open barren land with a singular road cutting through it.

He avoids busy restaurants and sticks to quiet bars. Drinks too much whiskey and then passes out on his too small, cold, bed. Stops off at vineyards he's been meaning to visit for years, stock-piles bottles of wine to gift his mum and dad when he eventually arrives back home.

Max had hated the idea. Had come stumbling out of the door of Daniel's home, sleepy-eyed from jet lag, when Daniel had driven up in the van after heading out early to collect it.

He'd looked perplexed, cocked his head as Daniel had clambered out of the driver's seat.

"What is this Daniel?" Max had asked. He'd walked forward to Daniel, still in his sleep clothes, an over-sized Enchanté shirt and tight boxers, arms lifted a little higher than his waist, looking to curl into the side of Daniel's body in the early morning sun that was already blisteringly hot.

"It's my van," Daniel replied. "I'm going to go away for a bit."

Max stopped in his tracks, his hands instantly forming fists at his sides, before stretching out his fingers again.

"What?" He asked again.

"I'm gunna go away for a bit Maxy. Just me. And the Australian Road. Get my head straight."

"No," Max had responded. Daniel knew this would be Max's reaction. It's why Daniel hadn't told him beforehand, had kept the secret since Brazil, an impulse purchase after he'd crashed out in his second-to-last race. "We have just got here Daniel. You are not going to go away on your own. You can stay here or I will come with you!"

Despite Max's defiant attitude, Daniel had won. He'd left Max at his home in Perth, the first time he'd visited as Daniel's boyfriend, a promise of barbeques with family and chasing each other on dirt bikes forgotten. They'd argued, they'd cried, they'd pleaded with each other to understand, but ultimately, Daniel's mind was set.

He hasn't spoken to Max in two-and-a-half weeks now. Doesn't know what he'd say. I miss you. Your love isn't good enough to fix me. I love you. I can't stand the way you pity me.

He doesn't even know if Max is still in Perth. He wouldn't blame him if he'd gone back to Monaco.

His decision had been finalised when his Mum and Dad had arrived in Abu Dhabi. The tears prickling at the corner of his mum's eyes as she'd pulled him in sent guilt washing over him. He'd failed. They'd sacrificed everything for him to drive. And he couldn't give them the one thing they deserved. A Championship.

He'd marked Exmouth as his stopping point, where he'd turn around and head back home, but he arrives, camps under the stars for two days, rents a boat and sits for hours with a fishing rod that's never successful and still doesn't feel complete. Whole. He'd imagined, in the days between Brazil and Abu Dhabi, that this would fix him. That a solo trip would give him all the answers. Show him whether he's happy with this being the end, or driven to find a way back.

Instead, he just feels lost and alone.

He clambers back into his van, pulls out the beaten-up map that came with the vehicle and tries to pick a new place to go. No where strikes inspiration in him though. The big bold lettering of PERTH near the bottom of the map taunts him over and over again and he scrunches the map up, throwing it at the windshield.

Across from where he's parked, just across his van on a grassed area sits a family, at a picnic bench, fitted with a barbeque. Two dads sat side by side, a young son and daughter sat opposite them. Daniel can't tear his eyes away from them, as the kids sit eagerly awaiting their dinner, laughing, conversing. They're happy.

He'd promised Isaac and Isabella in Abu Dhabi that when they got back to Perth, they could come round to his house, and they'd spend hours in the pool and have a large barbeque, and end the night around the fire with smores.

Instead, he'd been too chicken to say goodbye to them.

He'd promised Max that he'd take him hiking at his favourite spot. Take him out on a date to his favourite Italian restaurant. Promised trips to the farmers market, and out for brunch, and endless beach days. Promised him a winter break of relaxation. A Christmas at Daniel's parents, one filled with sunshine and shorts and a mountain of presents.

Instead, he'd made Max fly all the way out here, and then abandoned him. The guilt hadn't left him, not since he'd pulled out of his dusted driveway and away from Max.

He props his feet upon the dash and watches the family as they move about their evening. Burgers eaten far too quickly by the children. A plea from their fathers to at least try the salad they'd purchased. A rugby ball emerging from their bag that they kick around and throw to each other. Small gentle kisses shared between partners, an arm around the waist, one thrown around the shoulder. Kids piling on top of their dads as they fall to the ground in a tackle. Laughter. So much laughter. And joy. And happiness.

Daniel calls Max.

It rings and rings and rings. Then Max's voicemail sets in. Daniel tries again. It rings and rings and rings. He puts his phone down on the seat and starts his engine. He'll follow a road somewhere.

His phone rings. A photo of Max curled up asleep in the sheets of their Monaco bedroom fills the screen.

He answers immediately, clutching the phone to his ear. It's silent on the other end of the line.

"Max?" Daniel asks gently.

"Daniel," Max repeats back to him.

"Max." Daniel says again. "I miss you, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking, and I'm just so lonely and I hope you're okay, please tell me you're still okay. Are you still in Perth? I'm so sorry Max. I'm gunna drive home. Yeah? I'm gunna drive back okay. You'll be there right? When I get home? I'll make this up to you. Okay--I'll drive home tonight and then tomorrow we can do whatever you want. Whatever you want. " He's crying, and his words are coming out so fast, but the simple sound of Max's voice, the Dutch intonation speaking his own name, collapses him.

"Where are you?" Max asks. Daniel can hear his voice quiver on the other end of the line and a fresh wave of guilt washes over him. He should be there right now, Max shouldn't be feeling this way.

"I'm in Exmouth, it's almost at the tip of Western Australia. So it's about 13 hours to Perth but I can drive through the night Maxy, and then I'll be back home tomorrow. Yeah? Does that sound good?" Daniel selfishly, wants Max to beg him to come home, tell him how much he's missed him, and needs him. Daniel can't even tell if Max is still in Perth, too scared to outright ask.

"You should get some sleep Daniel. And then come home. You should not drive through the night you might crash. And then I will not be able to shout at you for all the horrible things you have done and I will have to attend your funeral with all these unresolved issues of course, so probably my speech would not be that good." The glimmer of teasing that comes through in Max's voice makes Daniel clutch at his chest in want.

"Yeah, okay baby, I'll see you tomorrow yeah?" Daniel asks.

"Yes Daniel. Come home. I will cook dinner for you when you get back. We can have a lovely evening."

"Sounds good. I love you." Daniel responds.

"I love you also." Max says, and Daniel has to hang up quickly before Max catches on to his desperate sobs.

---

He does what Max asks, and sleeps. Not very well, and not for very long, but the next morning, he starts the van up at 5am and drives, joins the open road and heads home. He turns the stereo up, his Max playlist on loud and proud, singing along to the lines that resonate most to him. Whenever he stops off for fuel, and snacks, he texts Max, updating him on his journey and when he'll be home. Max responds to Daniel's first message, when he'd left Max know that he was leaving Exmouth, with Drive safe ❤️, the second message with See you soon! 😁 and the third message with I hope your bum is not feeling too numb!

He pulls up onto his track road and into his driveway just after 8pm and is greeted with a house decorated and ready for Christmas. Lights strung across the porch, pretend Snowman's just beside the front door, mistletoe hanging from above the entranceway. Max had put out all his Christmas decorations from years past.

He's already crying as he fumbles to undo his seatbelt, and stumbles out the drivers door.

The tears start falling when he sees Max running out of the front door towards him, jumping over the steps of the porch and bounding towards Daniel. Max stumbles into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around Daniel and pulling him into him. Daniel collapses into him, exhaustion and want and love all seeping out of him.

"Your mum showed me where all the Christmas decorations were kept last week. I asked her if she could show me. I thought that maybe if you would come home, it would be nice for you to come home to." Max finally says, his voice shaking, speaking into Daniel's neck. "Isaac and Isabella helped. They kept on asking where you were. And I didn't have an answer for them Daniel. I had to tell them that you'd gone on a trip. And then they would ask when you were coming back and I would say I do not know. And then they would ask if we could go and join you and I said I do not think we can. You were cruel, Daniel. You were so cruel."

Daniel finally wraps his arms around Max, kisses the crown of his head and cries with him.

"I'm better now Max, I promise you, I am better." He whispers into his hair. Max's grip around his waist gets tighter, pulling him impossibly closer.

"You never said you were bad, Daniel. I could tell and I tried to help, but you would always shut me down. You never said--"

"I know baby, I know. I'm so sorry."

Max's hand comes to the back of Daniel's neck, holding him tight, his fingers moving through his hair. It's all Daniel needs, he's realised. Is Max. Is Family. Is simple moments.

They both stand there, crying, in each other's arms, birds singing above them, the last remnants of the evening sun warming their backs, until Max, pulls away, intertwining his hand into Daniel's.

"You have to come inside now and eat," Max insists, stepping forward and tugging Daniel's arm. "Your mum has been giving me food every few days and I think that Brad is going to have to work overtime."

Daniel laughs then, his first proper, from-the-gut, endearing, happy laugh, in a long time. Max watches him, the way his eyes light up and his broad smile make up his whole face.

Daniel's back.

Daniel's home.

[evesaintyves]

i wrote a hinny "micro"fic inspired by today's @hinnymicrofic prompt, august 5th - dementor. it is not really a microfic (not even close), sorry.

You can read it here on AO3 if you prefer.

warning for mild sexual content.

1999, october

 

Ginny's tried baking chocolate brownies and chocolate silk tarts; she's not great at it, everything she makes comes out looking like the surface of the moon, all hard and cratery, and none of it seems to cheer him up: he's still standing in the shower til the water's long gone cold; she comes home and he's sitting on the sofa in the dark like he didn't notice the sun went down. After a couple of weeks he asks her to stop.

 

"I'm stuffing chocolate in my face all day at work," he says. "Getting a bit sick of it, actually."

So she makes curries, and stir-fry, and a mushy attempt at her mother's lamb stew, but he pushes them all around on his plate until they're cold and scrapes them into the bin.

 

"Sorry," he says, and it's like a thump to the chest from a bludger.

 

He's been stationed at Azkaban. The Aurors have driven all the old guards away with a squadron of patronuses; Harry said they lit the rough sea so brightly that he could see the rotted hull of an old shipwreck on the rocks just under the water, for a moment, before they chased the dementors off into the sky. But the nasty things keep coming back, sometimes one and sometimes dozens, in sieges that last for days. It's delayed the workers fixing up the bars, modernising the plumbing, righting all the toppled-over headstones in the cemetery.

 

"Kingsley's got this theory," Harry explains, sitting on the edge of the sofa in a way that suggests he's going to get up any moment, "that all the—what happened there left a sort of residue, and they like it."

 

So Harry's been there, in the residue, sitting on his broomstick in battering wind and waves that crash with such force that their spray reaches up the highest tower and grabs at the parapets on the top. Casting his patronus over and over while dementors curl through the air around him like clouds of black smoke.

 

That's how she imagines it.

 

"So you're just thinking of me all day," she teases him, and he laughs without smiling, without touching her, and then gets up to oil his broomstick.

 

That night she gets into bed naked and still all damp from her shower, and he crawls on top of her right away, lips on the rim of her ear. Then tongue on her collarbone. She digs her fingers into the muscles of his back, closes her eyes, and imagines that she's taking all the dead things the dementors must dig up in him, sequestering them inside herself where they can't hurt him anymore.

 

But when it's over he's quiet again and keeps to his side of the bed.

 

"Do you still hear your mum and dad?" she whispers after she's caught her breath. 

 

His back is turned and she's not sure he's awake until he answers, "No. Not really anymore."

 

"What is it, then?"

 

He rolls over and looks at her with the blankets pulled up over his mouth and nose.

 

"A few different things," he says.

 

The next afternoon she tries to keep busy, but she keeps thinking about those eyes, colorless in the dark bedroom and full of something she doesn't quite understand. She's immediately embarrassed but she can't help herself: she conjures a patronus of her own and sends it to him, no message, just her nimble silver mare galloping toward him across the sea.

 

When he gets home, he tells her (with his hands in his pockets and his eyebrows squirming) that he'd rather she not do that again.

 

"It's just distracting," he mutters.

 

That night in their bed all his little kisses are like apologies on her skin—or so she imagines. They're soft and deliberate and he's quiet the whole time.

 

"If you met a dementor tonight," he asks her afterward, still catching his breath, "would you still hear Tom?"

 

"No," she says instantly, and squeezes her eyes shut. Fred's staring eyes show up in the dark, and so do Harry's skinny legs hanging over Hagrid's elbow, but she's not sure if it'd be either of those things.

 

When she opens her eyes he's still looking at her, waiting.

 

"It wasn't even that I heard him," she says. "It was that I felt…"

 

All of that desperate, humiliating love she'd had for him, her only friend, author of those kindnesses that had faithfully scrawled themselves across the pages whenever she needed them, who had understood things about her that she hadn't even known about herself, who had seen her silly little heart and told her that it was beautiful. All that had gushed from her and out into the train compartment and into the ink-black maw of the dementor and she'd been so terrified and so ashamed that it had still been inside her all this time.

 

She doesn't say that. Eventually he falls asleep.

 

All that week it rains, a miserable rain that isn't really trying, just drizzling off and on interminably, and she can't stop thinking of him out there in the middle of the sea. Grey above, grey below. Hunched on his broom, wand outstretched, wringing out drops of happiness from some memory of a summer day with her—maybe. The awful truth is that she just doesn't know what it's like out there.

 

"So," she blurts out, when he's just coming home and stripping off his uniform robes, "are you just going to slink around like a kicked kneazle and not talk to me?"

 

He's frozen with his robes pulled over his head. They muffle his voice.

 

"Talk about what?"

 

"About—" she realises she's raised her voice and brings it down. "—all this we've been going through."

 

He frees himself and takes a minute straightening his uniform over the coat hook. When he looks up at her, he seems genuinely baffled.

 

"Have we been going through something?"

 

She just walks off and turns on the shower. She doesn't even know what to say.

 

She goes to bed in pyjamas. He puts out the lamp with a mumbled goodnight. The house is empty when she wakes up, disoriented in the feeble light and the rain drumming, and she feels like she must have heard something, like someone's in the house. She slips her wand off the bedside table, silently, and sets her bare feet on the floor.

 

The Patronus walks right through the closed bedroom door.

 

It ducks its antlers under the ceiling fan, which surprises a chuckle out of her, and comes up to nuzzle its face against her temple. It can't touch her, she doesn't feel it, but all the hairs there prickle and stand up, electrified with its presence. She brings a hand to the side of its long face and strokes the air.

 

"Hi," she breathes.

[buttercuparry]

How would Ing feel if she comes to know that the Joe who jumped into the river and the Joe who said "It is okay, I forgive you" are not the same person?

Ing did wrong. She did wrong and my god!my heart broke. Somethings are just so personal and hits so close to home, that you have to close the episode and sit with it for a minute...I think this has done a number on me.

The fight between Ing and her son, drove the other Joe to suicide. It wasn't successful, in so far as that the body didn't die but went into coma. Though right now as it stands, Ing's Joe is nowhere to be found. Instead we have our Joe's soul in the son's body. This Joe was orphaned as a kid and dreamt of a home. This Joe at least had Wut and Ja and other colleagues accept him. This Joe was driven to his death by a lover.

So for this Joe to get a chance to do over, to get a mom, who expresses gratitude that "her son" is alright and confesses and promises to our Joe that he is free to love whomever he wants...I just...man I don't know what I am feeling.

@vegaseatsass said it perfectly. Where Ming sat in Joe's house ( a mausoleum) waiting for Joe to come back and forgive him, Ing parallels him in sitting by her son's bedside. This whole thing hits so hard. Both of them, who drove their loved ones to death sat waiting for forgiveness.

But can everything truly be forgiven? Is it that sometimes, somethings can't be taken back? I don't know if Ing will ever truly get to say anything to HER son ever again. I don't know how religion or the concepts of Theravada Buddhism plays into this series, but I wonder if this is Ing's punishment for not loving her child as he is. Or if it is a blessing for her repentance, that she will never know that her son isn't there and would have Joe doting on her as if he truly were her son...

( I think that's what's going to happen...unless? Novel readers correct me if I am wrong.)

In conclusion, we have a mom and a "son". This son comes to know that the one whose life he has taken over, had been just as unlucky as him. In fact model!Joe might have been more unlucky, because Tharn never really cared for Joe and the fight was about him only.

[chaikachi]

Treasure is a Rosegarden Song

HEAR ME OUT OKAY. I've known for a while it could be sort of linked back to them, but it felt easier to brush it off as a general whole team reunion song... Until today's new episode.

⚠ SPOILERS AHEAD, YE HAVE BEEN WARNED ⚠

We got a very big win today with the Bees, they even got a whole new song that Casey has confirmed is bmblb part 2 (check her twitter, i'm not linking it lol). Which... really makes you wonder if they'd have that many Bees songs back to back, right? An argument can surely be made for it being a song about Yang and Ruby as that's the first reunion in Ultimatum that we see, but the lyrics don't really imply a sisterly bond. It could be Renora as the other couple that had a hint of a reunion that scene... but they didn't have a proper one. We got it and their confession in the following episode.

Which leaves the only other focused relationship dynamic in that moment: Ruby and Oscar

And why would it be an RG song? Well, they're the only 'pair' that got separated in v8 that didn't end the volume together. The teams were split down the middle with very clear foils:

Yang to Blake Ren to Nora Weiss to Jaune Ruby to Oscar (Also Ruby to Yang but this ain't about them)

But when Atlas fell, Ren and Nora were together in Vacuo. The bees made it to Ever After. Jaune and Weiss did too... but Oscar and Ruby? They're the only ones that are still apart. And this song is one about absence of another and awaiting a reunion. So lets dive into the lyrics proper, shall we?

Night and day, I've waited

For starters, the sun and moon symbolism that's been thrown around for them since their introductions. Yes, the Bees also have a celestial union going on, but again please bare with me.

All alone in crowded rooms I'm incomplete, my life is paused When you're not here

This is the longest portion of the analysis as the line "all alone in crowded rooms" is so heavy.

It gets tricky when we can't see Oscar's state rn (i will come back to him in a minute tho), but we do know Ruby's. We know that she is preoccupied with a lot of things. She's weighed down by Penny's death, by the internalized expectations she has to be just like Summer, this perfect hero from a fairytale, and is alone in her burdens as a leader. Romance is likely the last thing on her mind. But she is feeling loneliness, isolation, and left behind. We can see that in all past volume examples quite literally (like the above photo, the dance, Brunswick farms, her team not wanting to explore Atlas after their first mission, etc.), but it's really being driven home in recent episodes between the Blacksmith (Carpenter?) and Ruby's reaction to the Bees.

"You're doing this all alone?"

Also just... the way they're all positioned in this scene is so intentional. Yang and Blake are together and they are warm by the fire. Weiss is drinking some piping tea and smiling at them. And Ruby is sitting alone at a table with an empty chair, draped in a teal/green cloth, furthest from the fire. Remember the song "Cold" and how it's used as a metaphor for loss, loneliness, and grief throughout the show? Yeahhhh.

Recognizing Ruby is alone in crowded rooms begs the question of who in the cast makes her not feel that way. Well, anyone that's spent any amount of time looking at RG knows their entire dynamic is built on relating to and respecting each other for their similar positions. That out of everyone, Oscar has been the one to see through Ruby's mask and got her to actually open up about her grief. On the opposite side, Ruby helps Oscar in much the same ways he does her. By constantly watching his back, standing up for him, and reassuring him that despite the merge he is his own person... but he is also someone familiar with this feeling.

By virtue of being an Oz, he's already alienated. He joined the party late and doesn't know everyone as well as the others. He's also the youngest of the bunch and that's a lot of pressure that Ruby is familiar with.

So out of every pairing in the cast, these two are the ones that feel the most alone in crowded rooms and, by extension, less alone when they are together.

Though I walk this world I am nowhere to be found Every thought's of you And for now, you're not around

The singer here is saying that they don't feel present or grounded because of the absence of someone else. Their thoughts are with the person they are missing... but the wording about 'walking this world' is so specific when RG is the only pair split between worlds.

If this is from Oscar's POV, then he isn't found on Remnant. He's found in Ever After because that's where Ruby, and therefore his thoughts, are. The reverse POV also works, but in Ruby being very prioritized with the state they left Remnant in and her team consistently trying to pull her back to what's happening right in front of them.

But that's alright I'll be just fine I'm not concerned With sands of time

Sands of time is another very specific wording choice. Hourglass being associated with time is a give-in... but knowing what we know now it could be a lot of things. The Ever After is messy with time; we're seeing that firsthand with Jaune. But with Ruby and Oscar being the only ones still separated, there is an anticipation and a 'waiting' happening.

Beyond sands of time, Oscar - who has clock gears as a constant motif for his character design - is surrounded by sand as far as the eye can see in the deserts of Vacuo.

If forever comes and goes, I won't pay it no mind

Oscar is Oscar, do not misconstrue me here. But who, out of everyone in the cast aside from Salem, is most familiar with the concept of 'forever'? The one currently merging with a man who's lived a thousand lifetimes.

Hour after hour, I spend Dreaming that your voice will wake My slumbering ear Numb and lost I wander with No place to go, just aimless 'til You reappear

This is much like the earlier verse talking about loss and being directionless without their light to guide them. This song has some parallels to a few others, but for now I want to talk about Sky is Falling, which we know is an Oscar song:

Our world, lost without a soul Losing all control, not getting closer Every day is just another dose of torture (Torture) Now we pay the cost, the race is lost This nightmare's our real life

This can easily be linked back to wanting to wake from a bad dream and feeling lost without a (smaller more honest) soul being present. Later in that same song:

Lost all my hopes and dreams

Being numb and lost without hope. Ruby being the embodiment of hope.

Watch my life flash by in scenes And it seems there's no soul on the video screen

I am aggressively reminded of Arkos and Jaune watching Pyrrha's training video on a loop. Would bet actual money Oscar is doing the same of Ruby's broadcast back in Vacuo... because he was the only big name in the cast that wasn't shown watching that video when it went live.

Cold soaked as I'm standin' in rain Feelin' nothin' but pain until I see you again

Once again tying into feeling lost without the other.

Back to Treasure:

'Til you come in view I keep watch with these sore eyes Looking through the tears As the days creep slowly by

Emphasis on seeing each other again which can also be linked to the above stanza from Sky is Falling as well as Until the End with rain and tears being almost synonymous. (Until the End and Treasure have SO many parallels that I can't talk about all of them here without it becoming a whole separate post. Maybe later tho!)

Nothing's gonna shake my faith I know you're coming back real soon to my embrace

The emphasis on embrace when RG was the only pair that didn't get a hug.

Though time goes by so slow I'm never letting go I won't give up, if I spend my life I know

The time motif again followed by "I won't give up" paralleled to Ruby's line in her broadcast where she says "Even if Atlas falls, you can't give up."

"Atlas" also meaning Ruby. "You" being Oscar and the rest of the people still fighting. Oscar, who took up her mantle of leadership in a way through his costume change and actions in v6 after Ruby stepped into Oz's role.

And then lastly, the song's namesake:

'Cause the treasure of my life Is being by your side

Treasure, by definition, has two different meanings.

noun 1. a quantity of precious metals, gems, or other valuable objects. verb 1. keep carefully (a valuable or valued item).

The song at face value is talking about treasure as the verb. The act of treasuring or cherishing something precious. But much like some other double meanings in this song, a very strong argument can be made for the noun definition as well.

Ruby, who's first name literally means 'precious red gemstone'. Ruby, who's eyes are Silver and how that has tied into Rosegarden since their very first meeting. Oscar, who's eyes glow Gold with his own magic. Who's first name can also be easily associated with the colour by way of the award show statues of the same name.

If those are symbolisms associated with Oscar and Ruby, while Yang and Blake get a song called bmblb for being the same colour as bees and having a confession in a garden... then I think there is no other duo that the song Treasure can be about.

[variety-fangirl]

Based off this ask:

Yours / Jimmy Keene x fem!reader:

Summary: inspo above ^ You and Jimmy had met in highschool, been friends for many years and dated not long after. Everything was perfect and he'd proposed after three years together. Was being the key here, because you hadn't expected to be engaged for a year and planning your wedding, only to find out you were 16 weeks pregnant with Jimmy's baby and him being arrested not long after before you had a chance to tell him. And if that wasn't bad enough, he pushes you away whilst in prison.

Warnings: angst which turns into fluff, happy ending. Not much (swearing, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of breast feeding, and general stresses of being a single mother semi-alone.)

Aurthor's Note: I'm back my loves! God has it been long overdue and how I have missed writing! College had been extremely busy and took up so much of my time, writing essays 3-5 times a week with little free time genuinely took all the joy out of wanting to write in my free time (when normally I always look forward to it and can't wait for the weekend to come so I can write). Months of non-stop work and a lack of free time made things so hard and I didn't want to do anything really. But! Now that college is finished, I am hoping to now return :D Yay! How I have missed it and you guys. Thank you to those who have been paitient, I know it sucks. Thank you for requesting, I do apologise that this took so long but I hope you read it and enjoy it all the same! As always, thank you guys for reading! It means the world to me, and I hope you guys enjoy! I have some exciting writing coming up! Liking, reblogging, and commenting really helps me out.

Plus note- I had started this earlier but I become quite unwell :( so it took me longer to get this done than before.

Word count: 2.7k

You had always thought your life was relatively normal. You had a lovely home, friends, a family, a fiance, etc... Nothing out of the ordinary, the same as most had. That was until your whole world got wiped out from under you, twofold. They always told you marriage was the hard part, that that would be where you had to put work in, but they failed to mention what could happen before that. The part no one had seen coming. That day in the courthouse, when Jimmy had reassured you all would be well and he wouldn't be gone long, he hadn't counted for the hard part either.

10 years.

10 fucking years he had been sentenced to. 10 years you would have to be without him and raising your baby alone. Not only would you lose him but your child would too, without ever even knowing him.

Even with him leaving for that long, you wouldn't move on or be with another. Jimmy was and is your everything, your soulmate and the one you were meant to be with. Granted, when you'd talked about and planned your future together over the years, you'd envisioned it side by side in your loving home. Not with him spending the next decade in prison, away from you and your baby.

When you'd heard those words come out of the judge's mouth and witnessed as the blood drained from Jimmy's face, the once smug and confident look wiping off his face instantly, you broke. If you hadn't already been sitting, you'd have collapsed under the shock and destruction that took over you like a boulder. Jimmy screamed your name as he'd been dragged away kicking and yelling, the tears pouring down your face as you desperately attempted to catch your breath. You couldn't, no matter how hard you'd tried, you were having a panic attack in the courthouse.

Jimmy's father had led you into the cool fresh air and held your hair back as you'd heaved and vomited all over the floor. He'd rubbed your back and said soothing, comforting, kind words to try and calm you down. Jimmy had driven you there, so you drove his car back. You all went to Jimmy's father's house to discuss what to do. You devised a plan on how everything would work and how best to support Jimmy through it. You had all cried together, huddled in a pile of supportive comfort to one another. It had helped you all to calm down enough but it didn't lessen or take away the raging knot of sorrow in your chest. The tight pressure that has refused to leave you, even to this day.

You had all agreed to take turns visiting Jimmy and provide him with anything he needed to make the difficult transition easier. But, to your absolute horror, Jimmy refused any of you to see him whilst in prison. You hadn't spoken to him, only heard the words from his father. He only spoke to his father on the phone. He allowed his father to visit him once in the beginning, in which he'd written you a letter for his father to give you.

The letter had been simple, straightforward and had left no room for argument. He had simply stated that he didn't want to keep you waiting so he was letting you go, that putting you through ten years of waiting was cruel and that he would always love you.

He'd left you. After everything, he had left you before you could tell him you were pregnant with his child.

You'd wanted to tell him so badly, but he wouldn't allow you to. You refused to have his father tell the father of your child and fiance that he was having a baby with the woman he was trying to push away. So, you'd tried to write him letters. Five in fact. Telling him about the baby and the fact that you wouldn't let him do this but he wouldn't accept them. He either kept them unopened or threw them away. You'd asked his father but he said he hadn't opened them and wouldn't.

You had told his father and stepmother the news, wanting to share it with someone and they had been so happy for you. They begged to tell him but understood that when you refused, it was something you wanted to share with him. So, you'd kept writing him letters with details about your pregnancy, provided pictures of your sonograms, and chatted about baby names. Hoping that one day he would open them and contact you on the number you provided.

But the call never came.

Your due date approached and arrived, and you gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby boy. He was a mirror of Jimmy, a spit of his father in every way. He was beautiful. Jimmy's parents had been there to support you every step of the way, and you'd stayed with them for the first three months after you'd given birth. You had struggled desperately on your own and hadn't coped with the loneliness, so they had offered you to stay with them for as long as you needed. And honestly, they had loved it anyway.

Being a single mother over the coming months alone had been an adjustment period and a difficult one at that. You hadn't thought months and months ago when you'd found out you were pregnant, that you would have been doing it by yourself. You had always envisioned that when the time came, you would be doing it together. With Jimmy, your beloved, by your side. And yet here you were with a toddler, raising him by yourself.

You'd been angry in the beginning with Jimmy, wishing he hadn't been so stupid but it quickly had turned into anguish and sadness. Night after night as your baby slept beside you, you'd wonder how he was doing in prison. Wondering how he was managing, hoping he wasn't hurt or being hurt by others. You knew Jimmy was more than capable and could take care of himself, but that didn't mean that you didn't still worry for his safety and wellbeing.

You looked down at your son and wondered how different things would have been had Jimmy been by your side raising your son together. How sad you felt for the small things Jimmy had already missed. Your pregnancy and the bonding, the birth of his son and being by your side to support you inside of his parents, the first night home, the first feed, the first bath, etc... All the little things that bonded you to your baby and the precious memories those hold.

Throughout the months you had shown your baby boy pictures of his father and chatted to him about stories of Jimmy, even though you knew he didn't fully comprehend or understand what you were saying, you still felt it was important. You repeated 'da da' to the photos of Jimmy, trying to help your son associate his father with the photo, so he would know who he was. Eventually, he started babbling 'da da' at the photo on his own as the months went on. It made you smile bittersweetly that he seemed to recognise him in some ways at least.

A few weeks after your son had turned eleven months, you found out from Jimmy's father that he would be released from prison due to a secret deal he'd made with investigators for information about a serial killer's victims, in which the serial killer was in the prison with Jimmy. To say you were shocked was an understatement. Not only did you still not come to the acceptance that Jimmy would be gone for ten years, but you now had to accept and wrap your head around that he would be released a week from now. Just before your son turned 1 year old.

You had instantly burst into tears. Tears of confusion, relief, happiness, and worry. Jimmy had rejected you in more ways than one. He rejected you as his partner and took the option of choice away from you, as a way of trying to protect you but in doing so had hurt you more. He rejected the promise he had made to you, in which you would be together until you both died. He rejected your son, without even knowing him or the fact he was doing it because he refused to even give you the respect of speaking to you. And he rejected you and your feelings. He pushed you and your baby away.

You had asked his father to pick Jimmy up on the day of his release, for both obvious and selfish reasons, and asked that he prepare Jimmy for things to be different when he arrives home. But not to mention your son, you would do that. You had also asked his father to tell Jimmy that you were still at your home and wanted to talk when he arrived. He said he would get Jimmy to text you from his phone when they were close, so to give you enough time to prepare for his arrival.

You prepared some tea for yourself to calm down, fed your son and changed him, cleaned a little and waited anxiously for the text. You had stared furiously at your phone for that text. You'd distracted yourself by telling your adorable son that his father was coming home, hoping your baby would calm you down enough. You wondered if he would recognise him when he came through the door. And, how Jimmy would react when he sees the mini version of him.

Twenty minutes later, Jimmy and his father are outside your home, slowly making their way inside. You had chosen to stand in the hall, facing the door with your son in your arms, waiting patiently but anxiously for them to walk through the door. You had let them know to knock and then walk inside on their own accord.

The door opened slowly, so agonisingly slow and quietly, that you could hear and feel your heartbeat around you. Your breathing laboured in anxiety and stress. But the second you laid eyes on Jimmy, it felt like your world was complete. The man you love was standing in front of you in the open doorway once more with a look of utter shock on his face. He was looking at you and it felt like time stopped for a moment. You both stared wide-eyed at one another, not uttering a word.

That was until your son squealed in annoyance that no one was paying attention to him. He fussed to be put down, putting up a fight against you, so you put him down to do as he pleased. What you didn't expect though, was for your son to crawl over to Jimmy babbling 'dadada' over and over, until he was at Jimmy's feet. He squealed in happiness as he raised his arms and did grabby hands towards Jimmy, indicating he wanted to be picked up.

Jimmy looked at you as if asking for permission. You nodded and watched as Jimmy picked him up. Your son squealed whilst continuing to babble about 'dadada' as he grabbed Jimmy's face. You finally decide to speak, to break the awkward silence from everyone. "Jimmy, meet your son Tyler. Tyler sweetie, meet your daddy." You sweetly cooed the end to your son, introducing the two. Jimmy looked at your son in awe as he gently ran a finger down his cute chubby cheek.

"Baby? How? I have so many questions." Jimmy questions in both shock and awe, smiling when Tyler babbles nonsense at him and happily waves his arms about. You smiled at the scene in front of you and nodded, "I showed him pictures of you and said 'da da' at it. To help him recognise you. Granted I didn't know you would be released so soon and didn't expect him to pick it up so soon. But I'm glad he seems to recognise you. Shall we sit so I can explain?"

You invite them both in, watching with amusement and melting inside as Jimmy carefully watches his every step, looking downward as he moves into the living room with you. James stepped back, "I'll leave you pair to talk, I'll come by later sweetheart." You nodded appreciatively and hugged him before joining Jimmy.

You sit down with Jimmy on the couch, sitting Tyler on your lap as you face Jimmy. It was dinner time, so you pulled out your breast to feed Tyler. "Oh shit! I'll look away..." Jimmy coughed and turned away quickly as you situated Tyler comfortably to eat. You giggled to yourself, "C'mon Jim. It's nothing you haven't seen before. Besides, technically we didn't break up, so..." You cleared your throat uncomfortably, and Jimmy turned to look at you with a confused expression.

You decided to just get on with explaining, to make things more clearer for him. "I was already pregnant before you got arrested but I only found out a week before. I had missed my period and decided to just take a test to be sure and found out. I was going to tell you but then everything turned into chaos and you shut me out. I wrote you letters, so many letters Jim, explaining that we were expecting and for you to please call me or let me visit, but you never replied..." You took a deep breath, looking away for a moment.

"But I never stopped writing them. I put important stuff in there FIY, if you want to be caught up properly." You looked down and stroked your son's cheek as you spoke the next part, it hurt too much to say whilst looking at Jimmy. "I wanted to be there for you, you know? To support you through it and introduce you to our child but you refused to even speak to me. Like, what the fuck Jim? A letter?! I had no choice but to tell you about my pregnancy through letters because you gave me no other choice but you wouldn't even give me the decency of trying to break up with me in person?" You tried to stay calm to not disturb Tyler but you were hurt and raised your voice slightly.

You lifted your head to look at Jimmy when you heard him groan, "Shit, I'm so fucking sorry y/n. I fucked everything so badly with you and our child." Jimmy placed his head in his hands, "Wait, you said 'trying to break up'?" He lifted his head in question with tears in his eyes, pulling at your heartstrings. You nodded, "I did." He looked at you with such lost confusion that you rolled your eyes, "What? You thought I was going to let you break up with me from prison through a letter? Absolutely not."

"So... We are still technically together then?" He questions with a hopeful look, his eyes wide. You smile, "technically yes, but we aren't just going to go back to normal. If you still want this, us, then you'll have to make it up to me for your stupidity." Jimmy nods happily with a smile before looking down at your son. "I'll make it up to you, both of you. I promise."

Jimmy already looked besotted with Tyler, "he's a spit of you, isn't he?" You question with a smile. Jimmy nods, "a proper mini-me." He whispers as he places his finger between Tyler's, and grins proudly when Tyler grips them back. You smile down at the pair, feeling overwhelmed and happy.

Twenty minutes later, Tyler is fed and down for a nap in your arms happily. Jimmy is sitting beside you on the couch reading each of the letters you sent him from the beginng, saying he didn't want to waste any time and be caught up with everything he missed so he could adjust to being home and a father. You nodded and just simply watched, answering any questions he had or commenting on certain parts for further clarity. All while you had your head on his shoulder.

After much inner turmoil and encouragement from you, Jimmy placed his arm around your shoulder and hugged you and your son whilst reading. Eventually, his parents came by to see you all, to which you were all overcome with emotions and cried together whilst laughing at how ridiculous you all looked. Jimmy refused to move from either of your or Tyler's sides the whole time. And for the first time in almost a year, you finally felt content and not alone.

[hughiecampbelle]

Succession Preference: S/O Being A Famous Actor

Requested: The Roys with Oscar-winning movie star s/o preferences please!!! - anon

A/N: This is such a cool request!!! Thank you my love!! I hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Connor is so proud of you. Your career didn't take off until a little later than you expected. He's been there for everything. Every play, every musical, every indie film. When it does take off, it takes off quickly. Suddenly you're wanted on every late night show, every red carpet, every show and film. When you win your Oscar, when you make appearances in interviews, you have lots of people to thank, but the first is always Connor. He never lost faith in you even when you lost faith in yourself. You thought about quitting acting for good, but Connor always saw your potential. He always knew you'd be successful. Now that you're in such high demand, you find it hard to find time to be together. You're always wanted in LA, so he gets a place there just for the two of you. That way you can be together and still have your career. He loves to go along with you to things, making you look good in interviews, and make headlines with a passionate kiss. He's unbelievably proud of what you've accomplished and can't wait to see what you have planned next.

Kendall can't believe you're into him. He's seen you in everything and had the biggest crush on you from the beginning. You meet in a club, drinking with friends while you're shooting in NYC. You like him from the start. He makes you laugh easily and doesn't treat you like some weirdo. From then on you're inseparable. When you win your Oscar he's one of the first people you thank and he throws a huge party for you when you get home. Kendall couldn't be prouder of you. You worked so hard, you put so many hours I to your craft, you've put up with so much. You really do deserve it. He's your biggest supporter and will go on forever at interviews if they didn't stop him. You're my biggest fangirl, Ken. And he is. Everything you have a movie or show coming out he makes sure everyone in his life is watching it. You could do no wrong in his eyes, even if you're unhappy with your performance. As far as he's concerned, you're the best.

Shiv can't believe you've won an Oscar. Of course she can believe it, she tells you you're talented every single day, but seeing it in your apartment is a whole other story. She can't believe it's real. You're both very busy people with crazy hectic schedules. It's the kind of relationship you really have to make time for. Most of the time you're on opposing side of the country or even the world depending on where you're filming. You make it a point to see eachother in person at least twice a month when you're filming and call eachother every night, or morning, depending on the time difference. It's her favorite part of day, when she hears your voice. She feels like she can finally breathe when you're back, when she can hold you in her arms. This is the kind of relationship that fits her life: you're both passionate and driven in your own worlds. You're able to live your lives and have one another, too. When she joins you for press events and interviews, you're an unstoppable couple.

Roman definitely doesn't feel good enough for you. You're an Oscar winner. You've been in countless films and shows. You have the paparazzi following you wherever you go. You're famous, in a good way, a rarity in his world. He's just Roman. He feels like he doesn't deserve you, that you're too good for him. When you want to bring him to red carpet events and premiers he always has an excuse. When you tell him how much it hurts you that he doesn't want to go, he finally explains. He loves you, he loves you so much he doesn't want your career to be ruined by him. He'll mess it up like he does with everything. You remind him that you love him, that no one could ever change that. The next premier he's on your arm, posing in front of the cameras like his goofy self, making jokes to you about your co-stars. You make headlines and laugh when the headlines call him your lap dog. He loves you so much he's afraid he'll ruin it.