#been watching brotherhood recently

[ofdreamsanddoodles]

actually kind of funny how ed brings up the idea of maybe providing all the nutrients for al's body as well & al immediately thinks about how often ed falls asleep because it's like. not a thing anyone else really comments on before that? even ed himself is like "well clearly im not getting all the protein i need in my body to actually Grow" but sleep isn't on his mind either. i realize this is a weird thing to stress about but bro gave himself magically induced chronic fatigue and then didn't even notice

[erwinsarmrest]

terrified to watch fmab because i really really loved 03 and every time i learn that something is different in brotherhood i get waaaayyy to upset. like i’m still gonna watch it but i’ll probably make rant posts when the time comes.

[katytheinspiredjjkblog]

About Me

(No longer just an JJK Blog)

I am in my anime era. Come talk with me, my asks are open 💕 I am also happy to take recommendations for your favorites as well. Check the tags below for stuff I've already consumed and obsessed over.

Main Blog: @katytheinspiredworkaholic

My Art Blog: @katytheinspiredartblog (more than just anime)

Info: I am 34 years old, a multi-fandom fanfiction writer and fanartist. I am just starting to doodle and brainstorm some stories for these manga/anime fandoms so those will be added to this blog (as well as my art blog, and my main if I stop being a coward) when they actually come to fruition. I do have some NSFW content on my blog, but I will tag it #NSFW so blacklist the tag if need be.

Projects: Nothing right now. I'm just starting a new job and going through some mental health hurtles right now so I am binge-watching anime and reading a lot of fanfics. And fanart makes me happy, so I'm stalking all of you and trying to draw a bit as well. My brain isn't in the right mindset to string words together just yet, but when I do I'll let you know.

[pantestudines]

Imagining two Followers Of The Apocalypse guards way-too intensely arguing the question "Are The Brotherhood of Steel Problematic?" Saying shit like

Scrawny Guard with a Laser Rifle and Vault Suit: "Well I don't know, they fight the NCR's expansionist tendencies and they DO kind of have a point with the whole "advanced technology is dangerous" thing. I can't imagine they're all bad.."

Guard Trying Way Too Hard to Make Herself Look Like a Cowboy: "you mean the Brotherhood? The Brotherhood of Steel? The one that shoots ghouls on sight? That Brotherhood?"

[waitineedaname]

Aye sorry if you’ve said this before, but what got you into FMA?

tbh all it took was finally sitting down and watching it! It had been recommended to me for YEARS and I knew it was considered like. one of the best anime series of all time. And I knew I would like it, but I have so much trouble starting new series and committing to watching them unless I have someone to watch it with me lol luckily my sibling also wanted to watch it too! So this past spring, we finally started watching brotherhood together, and it very quickly grabbed both of us by the brainstem and then has proceeded to Not Let Go. So now here I am!

[puck-luck]

among the sheets | jack hughes

SEQUEL TO BETWEEN THE TILES

warnings: unprotected p in v, jealous and possessive jack, dirty talk, creampie, lots of kissing (lfg), trickery, light breeding kink (shh), mentions of masturbation (m & f), fingering, light biting, praise, ignoring the apparent repercussions of taking Plan B (cappy says that it’s bad for your body and to be real? i’ve never taken Plan B so idfk and idfc about the repercussions) pairing: frat!president jack hughes x reader summary: “Frat! Jack getting jealous watching reader get paired with another guy in their shared class together for an assignment 🤭”, “ok but reader talking to another guy in jacks frat bc she’s like whatever ur gonna act like nothing happened so will i and he gets PISSED and finally breaks telling her that he can’t stop thinking about her” wc: 6916

Three weeks. Six classes. Two Mondays, two Wednesdays, and two Fridays. One entire Thanksgiving break. That’s how long it’s been since you and Jack hooked up at his party in the beginning of November. 

December comes with a new goal for you: that you’re not going to let Jack Hughes get into your head. After all, he’s just a frat guy. It’s typical for frat boys to get what they want– laid– and then ghost their hookup. You’ve seen it happen to your roommates and close friends in years past, who always seem to fall for the frat guy that can’t commit. He’ll string them along for a fuck, convincing them that he likes them, just so that they’ll come back for more. 

Your girlfriends never stay the night, never receive aftercare, and sometimes don’t even get to come. Yet– the boy is always allowed to stay the night at her place. And he always pulls her back in, even when he’s fucking other girls and lying about it. Your mind automatically goes to Jack’s frat brother, Cole, who was the puppeteer of a miserable situationship with your close friend a few years back.

You’ve learned, just through talking with Jack during class, that he and Cole are still close friends. Cole’s his VP of Brotherhood. You don’t share the fact that you know the girl who cried over Cole every week for the better part of sophomore year. 

No, that information you keep to yourself. Although, to you, Jack’s friendship with Cole is proof that Jack is doing the same thing to you. If he asked, you probably would fuck him again. After all, he’s been nothing but kind to you since that party. But, at the same time, he’s been kind– not flirty. 

The distinction between the two is clear. Heading into finals, you’re going to keep your head down and do your work. You’ll study, you’ll prep for the second-to-last set of finals you’ll ever take, and you will not allow Jack to distract you. He’s just some guy.

You’re a little nervous heading into your first class back from break. Today, your teacher is announcing the pairs for your final project. In this class, there’s an optional written exam. Instead, there’s the required project, where you have to research and present about one of the topics that was covered this semester. With your luck, you’re expecting that your teacher will pair you and Jack together. That way, you won’t be able to avoid him. It’ll be a nightmare.

Like always, you arrive to class before Jack does. Like always, you take out your computer and your textbook, rereading your most recent notes to make sure you’re up to speed on what you’ll talk about in class today. Like always, Jack drops into the seat next to you just before the bell rings, and like always, he peers over your shoulder to look at your computer screen, snooping.

“I see you haven’t changed over break,” Jack says, sounding disappointed. “I was hoping that we’d come back and I’d get to watch you shop for a dress for formal instead of having to look at your notes all the time.”

“I’m not going to any formal,” you reply. “I’m not in a sorority.”

Jack clicks his tongue like he’s just remembering, about to retort when your professor starts class. You shush Jack, then turn your attention to your prof. 

She tells the class that today you’ll be meeting with your assigned partner and choosing a topic for your presentation. Everyone will have to move around in the classroom to do so, which is a relief– unless Jack ends up being your partner, he’ll have to leave your side. You won’t be burdened with the weight of having a man who’s seen your face when you come right beside you.

She begins to read from the list on her computer and you get lucky– Jack isn’t your partner. Instead, you get Braden Schneider, who sits across from you in the classroom, close to the back. He tucks himself into a corner every class and you’ve seen him at office hours once or twice. When you’re partnered up, he gives you a little wave and a smile.

Jack is stuck with another boy from the class, a boy named John (you think) with whom he seems to get along. 

Once the class splits into pairs, Jack raises his hand to bid you goodbye and goes to join John across the way. Braden comes and takes his seat. You don’t know Braden well, but he’s passionate about doing a presentation about the topic that you know best, so you click almost immediately. You leave class feeling confident that you will get a good grade on this final, so good that it might bump you up from a B+ to an A-... or even an A, if you can speak as well in front of the class as you can research.

You and Braden leave class together, trying to decide when it’s best to meet up outside of class and start working on your presentation. As you walk down the hall, Braden tells you that he can’t meet up on Friday because he’s going to his girlfriend’s formal– you can’t seem to escape the topic of greek life. You decide to grab coffee on Sunday morning. Outside the building, Braden leaves you with another wave and a confirmation of “It’s a date!”

Then, Jack finds you.

“How was Schneider?” He asks, eying your classmate’s retreating figure. 

“He’s good. We’re getting coffee on Sunday. I think our project will go well. How’s… John?” You reply, fixing the backpack straps on your shoulders before setting off towards the parking lot where you parked today. This class with Jack is the last of the day, so you’re ready to head home. He walks back the same way, since the parking lot is about a block closer to campus than the frat houses.

“Johnny,” Jack corrects. Then, he shrugs. “He’s fine. Why are you getting coffee with Schneider?”

You almost burst out laughing. “For the project?” You explain, like it’s obvious. “We have to talk about it.”

“Why can’t you just go to the library? Or you could work on it during class time,” Jack says. 

Now, it’s your turn to shrug. “We want to get it done and he says he works best in a more relaxed environment.”

“Of course he does,” Jack scoffs. “Those fucking Nups. They never take anything seriously.”

“‘Nups?’” You repeat. “What the fuck is a ‘Nup?’”

“Nu Upsilon Rho,” Jack says. “Our rival frat. He’s one of the brothers.”

“So… because he’s in this frat that you don’t like… you think he’s not going to take the project seriously,” you deadpan. “Do you even know him?”

“I just think he’s going to ditch you with all the work because he’s busy,” Jack says with another shrug. He fixes his baseball cap, turning it so it’s backwards atop his head. 

“Well, I have faith in him. We’ve got a plan and he seems pretty into our topic, so I think everything will be fine.” You frown at Jack, narrowing your eyes at him. “Thanks for the concern.”

“Are you angry with me, or something?” Jack asks. “You seem mad.”

“I think you’re really overstepping,” you tell him. “My project isn’t your business. We’re not partners.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“Why don’t you worry about yourself?” You’ve reached your parking lot, so this is the part where you turn left and Jack continues going straight. You cross your arms over your chest and he stops in front of you, turning to face you. You’re crowded on the left side of the sidewalk. Other students walk past you, sometimes looking at you to express their distaste at the obstacle blocking their way. 

Jack looks at you for a minute, holding eye contact without saying anything. He looks confused at your retort, a slight frown tugging at his lips. 

Those are the same lips that kissed your earlobe, your cheek, your neck. Behind them is the same tongue that licked into your mouth and slid against yours. 

You’re flushing a bit now. It takes a lot of concentration to tear yourself away from him, to look down at his feet. He’s wearing those white AF1s that he always wears, creased and gross after years of wear and tear, and that’s enough to bring you back to yourself. 

“We’re throwing a party on the last day of classes,” Jack says. “It’s, like, a final hoo-rah before finals. The theme is Ugly Christmas Sweaters. I’ll put you on the list, if you want to come.”

“Maybe,” you say. You probably won’t go. The last time you went to one of Jack’s parties, you ended up losing your head after one drink and fucking him in the downstairs bathroom where everyone could hear, just because he asked you to.

“Okay. It’ll start at nine. You can come early, too. I’ll be at the house all day.” If Jack is bothered by your uncertain answer, he doesn’t let it show. He bids you goodbye and turns away, heading towards the house. 

You watch him walk away, then you don’t think about him again until class on Wednesday. Wednesday begins exam review. Your optional exam is scheduled on the first day of finals week, in just ten days. You’ll only have two classes to summarize everything you learned this semester, since Monday and Wednesday are reserved for presentations, so it’s imperative that you pay attention. You have to pay attention in case your final project falls apart and goes completely south, the way that it seems Jack believes it will. You want to ace this final exam if you have to take it.

You barely speak with him throughout exam review on Wednesday, nor on Friday. You head to the library to work on other papers and exam reviews after your classes instead of going home, just so you don’t have to walk back with him.

If Jack’s not going to bring up the fact that you fucked, then neither are you. If he’s going to be a dick about the project, and the fact that you’re paired with one of his rival frat’s brothers, then you’re just going to ignore him.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t try to bother you during class, because he does. He’s insatiable like that. It’s impossible for him to go a class period without talking or without poking you and pouting for attention. You’re just the bigger person.

Jack’s presentation is on Monday and it goes fine. He and his partner are relatively monotone and they don’t seem to care much about their topic, so you’d say that they earned a solid C on the presentation part of the project. Hopefully their research and write-up is better and can lift their grade up to a B. You give him a high five after it’s done, just to congratulate him on completing the assignment, and he slumps in his seat. 

Your presentation is on Wednesday. You and Braden met for coffee on Sunday, like you said. He told you a bit about his girlfriend’s formal on Friday, then you got down to work. You both pulled through with your end of the research, so organizing your presentation was easy. You were in and out of the coffee shop in less than two hours, feeling fully confident that you’d be able to present well and receive an A.

On Wednesday, everything goes off without a hitch. Your professor looks impressed, scribbling only a few notes on her sheet of paper. You try not to look at Jack, lest he distract you, but he’s staring at you the whole time. He gives you a tight smile after the presentation is over and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

After class, Braden comes over and gives you a hug. You’d gotten his number before your coffee date, but he assures you that he’d love to study together in the future. You’ll have a class together next semester, anyway– the same one you’ll have with Jack, since you’re all in your last semester before graduation and everyone always ends up in the same course. 

Jack walks with you to the parking lot on Wednesday, heading home in the same direction, but his hands are shoved in his pockets and his expression is oddly blank. When you reach your normal parting point, Jack stops.

“Are you coming to the Ugly Sweater party?” He asks. 

“It’s on Friday, right?” You ask, still beaming after your successful presentation. “I don’t have any plans, I don’t think.”

“Do you have an ugly sweater?” Jack asks.

“I think I can find one.”

“I have two. You can borrow one of mine.” Jack kicks a rock to the side of the sidewalk, out of the way. “Do you want to come to the house and grab it? I know coming to frat parties early, like… isn’t fun for most people. I’ll kind of be busy before, too, so. You coming to the house now to grab it would be better. If you have nothing else to do.”

His words are jilted and awkward. You’re just as aware as he is that the last time you came to the house, you came all over his cock and he shot off inside of you. You know Jack’s thinking about that because the tips of his ears have gone red and he can’t meet your eyes.

You’d rather face the frat house now, in the light of day, than go back on a Friday night when there is a huge crowd and you can barely hear Jack.

“Yeah,” you tell him. Your answer surprises Jack, but it makes him smile. 

“Okay,” he says, trying to bite back the big grin. “C’mon.”

Together, you bypass the parking lot where your car sits. You walk together to the row of frat houses down the block. Jack swipes into the house with his student ID, holding the door open for you.

You kind of think he expects you to keep walking, but you’ve never been to his room before. You’ve only been in the dancing room– which looks like shit in the light of day, on a Wednesday afternoon– the kitchen, and that bathroom down the hall. 

Jack waves at a brother who is sitting in the living room to the right of the foyer, then guides you upstairs with a hand at the small of your back. His touch is featherlight, his fingertips pressing against the back of your sweater, bunching up the fabric. 

You make it to the top of the stairs, turning towards the left. There are more doors on that side of the hall, so you expect Jack’s room is down there. There are two doors on the right.

Jack climbs the final stairs and hooks a finger through the belt loop of your jeans, tugging you gently towards the right. “My room’s over here,” he mumbles, reaching for one of the doorhandles. “The other one is the shared bathroom for the guys. If you need the bathroom during the party, you can go in this one instead of waiting downstairs again.”

You nod, not sure how to reply. You’re not sure if you can face that bathroom without wanting to repeat your encounter with Jack. 

It’s even harder seeing his bed– unmade, messy, and looking comfortable. The sheets are wrinkled and thrown around haphazardly, his pillows flat and squished like he was hugging them in his sleep.

“Sorry for the mess,” Jack offers. “I didn’t think…”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I don’t mind. My room isn’t much better.”

That’s a lie. You have a laundry basket for your dirty clothes and Jack seems to drop them in a pile in the corner. He’s got books out, whereas yours are stacked neatly on your desk. The truthful part is that you don’t mind– you didn’t expect a clean room in a frat house.

You take a seat on the edge of his bed, clasping your hands in your lap and bouncing a bit on the mattress when you sink into it. He digs through his closet, moving hangers and pulling boxes out of cubbies to try and find the ugly sweater that you’re going to borrow.

You spot a can of Zyn on his bedside table, which makes you laugh to yourself. You’re looking around the room for more when your phone dings.

You dig it out of your pocket, checking your messages. It’s Braden, who has sent you a picture of a coffee and a donut– and his girlfriend in the background– from the same coffee shop where you met up on Sunday. His message reads: “Thanks for the recommendation! Ordered your fav to celebrate our awesome presentation today. Jos says she’ll get the butter cream next time for sure :)”

“Who’s that?” Jack asks, already facing you when you look up with a truly ugly Christmas sweater in his hands.

“Braden.”

Jack’s face clouds over. His hands drop to his sides, the sweater drooping in his right. “You’re done with the project, though.”

“So what?”

“Why are you still talking to him?”

“We get along,” you explain with a shrug. “He’s nice.”

“He’s a Nup,” Jack says again, deadpanning.

You scoff and shake your head. “Jack, just because he’s in another frat than you doesn’t mean he’s not nice. I’m friends with him just like how I’m friends with you.”

“But we were friends first,” Jack complains.

“Does that mean that I’m only allowed to be friends with you?” You ask, teasing him slightly. The idea is absurd and you need to know if Jack really means what he’s implying. “Heaven forbid I have to tell my roommate that we’re not allowed to be friends anymore because the President of Pike doesn’t allow me to talk to anyone other than him.”

“That’s not fair, you know I don’t mean that,” Jack says. 

“Jack, honey,” you begin, an air of patronization lacing the pet name. “You’re overstepping again. Let me see that sweater.” You hold a hand out, making a grabbing motion at the lump of fabric in his hand.

“You can’t just look at it,” Jack says with a pout. “You have to try it on to get the full effect. That’s what my mom always says.”

A short silence hangs in the air as you both realize what he said. It’s not like you can pull this sweater over the sweater you’re wearing– you’ll be sweltering and it won’t fit right.

Jack looks so caught on the spot that you can’t help but burst into giggles.

“Jack,” you laugh. “Are you trying to get me to take my clothes off?”

“Well, you’d put a new sweater on immediately after,” Jack says, trying to make up for his blunder. His ears are burning again, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. “I’ll even turn around.”

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” you say, shrugging him off. You start to pull your sweater over your head, revealing the bra you’d thrown on this morning because it was on the top of the pile in your drawer. You weren’t expecting anyone to see it.

“I mean, technically, I haven’t seen it,” Jack jumps in. “You kept your shirt on when I fucked you.”

It’s so jarring when he says it so bluntly. You’d both been avoiding the mention of your… encounter… for weeks.

“Well, now you’ve seen it, so you’ve collected the full package,” you concede, pulling the ugly sweater over your head and standing to look at yourself in the mirror in the corner of his room. 

It’s ugly. That’s for sure. There’s fake tinsel, there’s a stupid Christmas saying on the front, and there’s probably a Santa hat or reindeer headband to match.

Jack comes up behind you, smiling at you in the mirror. “Do you like it?”

“It’s an ugly Christmas sweater,” You reply. “You weren’t lying when you said that.”

Jack seems to forget that the mirror shows his expression, because he bites his lip and eyes you. “Looks good on you.”

You laugh, pulling the sweater back over your head, leaving you in your bra. You go to move past Jack, approaching the bed where your old sweater lies. “I think you just like to see a girl in your clothes, J. You seem to have a possessive streak.”

“Nuh-uh,” Jack refutes. 

You fix him with a look, glancing over your shoulder and seeing him with his arms crossed over his chest. “Jack, you don’t want me to be friends with a boy in another frat. I think you seem to believe that I’m Pike property because you fucked me once in the bathroom.”

Jack’s eyes go wide.

“Not that we’ve talked about it, because we probably should,” you point out. “We’re friends and we’ve fucked, then you acted like it never happened.”

“So did you,” Jack says, defending himself.

“I did because you did,” you tell him with a shrug. “I thought you’d bring it up during class or one of our walks. I don’t know. Maybe that was stupid of me.”

“I just didn’t think you wanted me to bring it up,” Jack says. “I thought you’d want it to be a one and done. I mean, I–” He pauses, wincing a little bit. “I came inside you. We didn’t talk about that. I didn’t know if you’d… be mad at me. So I… didn’t… talk to you?”

“I’m not mad at you for coming inside me,” you reply, shaking your head at him. “I don’t mind that. I took a Plan B afterward and everything’s fine. My period is supposed to come sometime this week. Plus, I–”

You cut yourself off, snapping your mouth shut. Jack’s not someone who you’d share your kinks with under a normal circumstance. He’s not your best friend, he’s not someone you gossip with, he’s not someone who you’re fucking regularly. It happened once, halfway in public, and that doesn’t mean he’s entitled to information about you. He doesn’t need to know that you felt feral over the way he came inside of you, with that low groan that has been replaying in your head every time you pull out your trusty vibrator and take care of yourself.

Jack cocks his head to the side. He raises an eyebrow. “You what?” He queries, expecting an answer. When you don’t answer, he takes a step forward and asks again. “You… what?”

“I’m not saying it,” you announce. 

Jack smirks. “That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Hmm, let’s think,” he teases, tapping his chin with his finger, pretending to think. “You didn’t mind when I came inside you, so I think you might… like that?”

You pull your sweater over your head, covering yourself up again. You seal your mouth shut and look at Jack, who takes another step forward, his smile only growing.

“You… want it,” Jack surmises. 

You hope your poker face is good, because he’s mighty perceptive. You would absolutely rather have a man come inside of you than in a condom. But, once again, it’s not something you were planning on telling Jack after just one fuck.

“You might be just as possessive as me,” Jack teases. He’s close enough to touch you now, so he does. He places a hand on your shoulder, his thumb smoothing against your exposed clavicle. He pushes the fabric of your sweater off your shoulder a bit, displacing it. The knitted fabric is stretchy, so it moves easily. He leans closer. “You like when I come inside of you because, well, I’m yours that way, aren’t I?”

With his hand on you and his body so close, he doesn’t miss the way you stiffen up.

Yes, you think. That’s exactly it. You hadn’t been able to place your finger on exactly why before now– Jack seems to have opened your eyes. Yes, you like it when a man is so desperate and overwhelmed by the feeling of you that he has to fill you up. He’s yours. He might be marking you up in a way that claims you, but his come is a sign that he’s yours.

“And I like it,” Jack continues. “Because you’re mine.”

A shiver actually runs down your spine.

And then Jack kisses you.

It’s sensual. It makes your brain melt. He’s gentle with it, his tongue caressing your lips until you open up for him. With one hand, he cradles your cheek. His other hand slides along your waist, underneath the bottom of your sweater. It feels like he’s branding your skin with his touch– or maybe all of the ‘possessive streak’ talk is warping your brain. 

“Why did you put your shirt back on?” Jack murmurs when he pulls away. 

He’s genuinely asking, which makes you laugh and pull him in again. Your laughter has him smiling, which makes it hard to kiss him properly. It devolves into a series of sweet pecks, interrupted by a breath of laughter or a wide grin before your lips meet again.

“No, really,” Jack says between kisses. “Why’d you put your shirt back on? I didn’t get a good look.”

“You are such a goof,” you reply, touching his hip. “Obviously I didn’t know we’d be kissing by the end of this conversation.”

“I think we should do more than kiss,” Jack says.

Again, a bout of laughter escapes you. He is so blatant and honest about what he wants. It’s such a male trait– you can’t imagine being so brash.

“You don’t think so?” Jack asks.

“You’re just so– I don’t know,” you say, feeling flustered. He’s still touching you, his hands are  greedy, roaming along your middle.

“Is it– too much?” Jack asks, matching your tone. His face contorts with concern. “If you don’t want to go again, we don’t have to. I would… fuck, I want to fuck you again.”

The sincerity of his voice surprises you. You know that he’s a man and men are often fueled by their desire to have sex with a partner, but Jack’s words blossom in your stomach like a flower opening on the first warm day of spring.

“You do?” You ask, coyly goading him into saying more. 

“Baby, I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” Jack reveals, groaning a little bit with want. “I can’t use the downstairs bathroom anymore and all the guys think it’s hilarious.”

“So is that why you didn’t want me talking to Braden?” You ask. “Because you’re jealous, seeing me have fun with another guy, meanwhile you can’t stop thinking about how my pussy felt around your cock?”

The dirty words make Jack keen in the back of his throat, tugging insistently at the hem of your sweater. 

You start to remove it, slowly, teasing him. As you watch his pupils dilate, fixing on your newly revealed skin, you continue to talk: “Have you been fucking your fist a lot, Jack? While you think about me?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, his voice merely a whisper.

“Good boy,” you praise lowly, trying to make your voice as seductive and innocent as possible without feeling like a fool. “I’ve been fucking myself to the thought of you, too.” 

Your shirt comes off, dropping to the ground, but Jack’s eyes find your face.

He bites his lip, his eyes dancing along your features. “Fingers?” He asks.

You shake your head. “Been using a toy.”

Jack’s blue eyes are starting to look black, shadowed and heady with lust. They’re devoid of emotion– except for one: want.

“Good?” He asks.

Again, you shake your head. “Not as good as the real thing.” You bring your hands to his pants, popping the button on his jeans slowly, to build suspense or even give him a chance to kiss you again. He’s standing still, staring at you with those dark eyes, so you drag the zipper of his pants down and reach in, palming his length over his underwear. 

Jack’s eyes stay on you as you touch him, the blue of his eyes matching the navy of the midnight sky. 

You stroke him until you’re certain he can’t grow any harder. Then, you push his t-shirt up to reveal his stomach, somehow soft and toned at the same time. You scratch along his abdomen, lifting the fabric. His mouth curves up at the edges when you’re finally able to pull the shirt off of him, leaving his hair disheveled. It’s cute like this, you decide.

The air between you is tense, his gaze weighing on you. You kiss him again, just because you can, and you use the distraction to push at his jeans until they’re falling to the ground. His lips are wet against yours. He must have licked them while he was staring, while you stroked him.

One of his hands works on your jeans, but you’re much more concerned with the hand that’s petting over the clasp of your bra. He’s able to unfasten it quickly. Once your bra is loose, he acts quickly. He brings his hand to your front and pulls at the band of the delicate piece. He drops to a knee, leaving your lips behind, but kissing over your stomach as he tugs at your jeans. They’re tight around your hips, so it takes him a second to get them off, but his fervor and determination aides him.

Once he’s got you in your underwear, completely braless, he rises. He covers your skin in wet, messy kisses as he comes back up. He captures one nipple between his teeth, then moves to the other and sucks. His hands are flush against your ass, squeezing your skin and keeping you close. 

“Fuck, Jack,” you moan, threading your fingers through his hair and breathing in languorous spurts. 

“Wanna take my time with you,” he murmurs. “But I’ve been waiting for this for weeks. I can’t wait any longer.”

“So fuck me,” you tell him. “I want you to. I want you to fuck me now.”

Jack smiles against your skin, licking over your nipple one more time before he comes back to his height. “Music to my ears, babe.” He places a quick kiss on the corner of your mouth, helping you step backwards until you’re against the bed. “Lay down. Let me touch you.”

You obey, climbing onto the messy bed and making yourself comfortable among his pillows. Jack joins you, climbing up your body and planting another kiss on your lips. He takes a pillow from beside your head and brings it under your hips, tapping your sides so that you lift up for him. 

“Good girl,” he mumbles. 

His words are quiet, but they still give you a burst of pride. 

He’s already moving to pull your panties down, biting his lip in concentration. His eyes are fixed on the point between your legs, even though his face is level with yours. His hair is falling into your space, tickling your forehead. You take a moment to take him in. Your eyes are wide and unblinking as you stare at him. You know Jack’s attractive, because you look at him all the time and you like looking at him, but in this moment, he’s a work of art. You might have stopped breathing.

You gasp when he touches you. His fingertips are blunt and careful as they sweep through your wet folds. 

The gasp takes Jack by surprise, his eyes flickering to your face, and he smiles when he meets you there. “Are you always this wet when we’re together?” He asks. “I’m imagining you in class, absolutely soaked even though I haven’t touched you.”

“Fuck off,” you laugh, bringing a hand to his hair again and smoothing it back. 

“That’s a no?”

“Definitely a no,” you say. “I’m not just wet because you’re around, Jack. It doesn’t work like that. This is because you’re a good kisser. And, well, because you sucked on my nipples.”

Jack brightens. “And I’ll do it again, too.”

You grip his hair before he can dip down and make good on his vow. “Slow down there, cowboy,” you say. 

Jack laughs at that, kissing your lips instead of finding your nipple. He swipes a finger against your clit, making you gasp again, into his mouth this time. 

“Mm,” Jack hums patronizingly. “Does it feel good?”

He fills you with his middle finger and thumbs at your clit, working the digits in tandem to make you whimper.

“Listen to yourself,” he says. “All that noise for me?”

“Fuck me,” you plead. “Please, Jack. I need you to fuck me.”

“You need it?” Jack teases, sliding his ring finger inside of you, joining the other. 

“Don’t be a dick,” you whine. 

“God, and I thought it was embarrassing how bad I want you,” he simpers. “But, you make a good point. We both want it. Let’s not wait.”

He removes his hand from between your legs, the empty feeling foreign and dissatisfying. He shucks off the final bit of clothing remaining between the two of you, throwing the underwear over his shoulder comically. It’s not sexy, but he’s so charming and goofy that you swoon anyway.

Jack fists his cock, stroking himself. He aligns himself with your entrance, teasing your folds and bumping your clit with the head of his cock. He smiles to himself, gaze meeting yours before he speaks. He quirks an eyebrow, coming lower to kiss you again because he just can’t help himself. “Let’s fill you up, hm? Just like you like.”

“Just like you like,” you parrot back.

He murmurs a quiet agreeance as he pushes into you. He goes slow, sinking into you in a direct contrast with how he fucked you last time. “Still so tight,” Jack acknowledges. “You feel just as good as last time.”

You hold his shoulder, one hand twisting into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

He dips down to smear a kiss against your jugular, mouthing at the area where your pulse races. Jack starts to roll his hips, feeling you out. Even though it was the whole point, you realize suddenly that he’s bare inside of you. It’s like the piece of information was delayed and that you didn’t understand it until you felt him, felt the way his cock was weeping inside of you.

“Jack,” you moan, pulling him closer. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles at the small of his back. You don’t let up, not until his pelvis is flush with yours and his stomach is practically touching your own. You need him to be close– you’re drunk on the feeling of having him inside of you, bare and leaking.

“I know,” he soothes, rocking into you. He kisses you again, his tongue lathering your lips and petting whatever area he can touch– teeth, tongue, the roof of your mouth… it’s messy, but driven completely by his desire, and you love it.

Your whines and whimpers, musings about how well he fills you, and your trembling touches fuel him. 

He fucks you deeply, making sure his cock brushes against your cervix with each thrust. You lose the ability to kiss him when he taps your sweet spot, keening in a way that has him grinning. You clench down involuntarily, which makes him choke a bit on his own breath and stutter his movements. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, if you keep squeezing me like that, this is going to end a lot faster than I want it to,” Jack tells you, grimacing through another thrust. He snaps his hips, showing no signs of stopping even though he seems determined to last. 

“I want you to come,” you goad, practically begging. “Please, Jack, fill me up. Need you to come in my pussy, I need it.”

Jack makes a choked moan in the back of his throat, his head dipping to bury itself in your neck. He nibbles your neck, keeping his teeth in place to quiet himself as he quickens his pace. His breath is like music in your ears, panting and turning high pitched when you squeeze him again. “Baby, shit,” he moans, dropping to his elbows, bracketing your head. 

You grind up against him, your hips lifting off the bed and the pillow completely. 

He rearranges his position, shifting his weight to one arm so that he can reach down and rub circles over your clit with his dominant hand. His fingers, the ones next to your head, toy with your hair. He thrusts as hard as he can, his thick cock pistoning into your heat and making your stomach turn over from the pleasure. 

The pressure on your clit sends sparks through your body. You can feel the pleasure in your clenched fingertips, the burning tips of your ears, and in your curled toes. He’s everywhere, and his cum is seconds from marking you.

“Be mine,” you plead. You mean to say, ‘fill me up, put your cum inside me until it spills out of me, come apart like your cum belongs to me,’ but what you hear is different. You hear yourself ask him for more than just a fuck– you hear a slogan from a chalky Valentine’s heart, begging for a romantic connection.

He’s a frat boy. He won’t acknowledge this, he won’t understand what you mean. He’ll take it the wrong way and he’ll never talk to you again, even if you show up to the party on Friday. He’ll say hello, then look over you to find the next girl–

“I’m yours,” Jack replies, breathless. “All yours.”

The relief that comes with his reply washes over you. You cry out, unable to stop yourself from clenching down on his member and succumbing to the pleasure that had been building up inside of you.

You let your release take hold of you, throwing your head back and baring your neck to Jack. He takes advantage of the newly revealed skin, sucking on the skin below your jaw. His nose presses against the side of your face, his breath wet against your skin. 

“Good, baby, so good,” Jack praises as he fucks you through your release. “Y’feel so perfect around me, gonna give you what you want, just another minute…”

His hips work in a frenzy, snapping into you with lewd noises that mix with the noises falling from both of your lips. It only takes a few more thrusts before Jack is shuddering in your arms, his lips coming to smudge a messy, passionate kiss against yours. He spills inside of you, filling you with his hot, intoxicating cum until there’s none remaining in his cock.

His hips slow when he’s done, his blinks becoming longer and slower as he regains his breath. He watches himself thrust into you a final few times, his mouth open slightly and eyes trained on the spot like he’s in a trance. 

You snap your fingers by his face, drawing his attention. “My eyes are up here, pretty boy.”

Jack bursts into a fit of giggles, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and peppering you with kisses. He uses the leverage, and the wide expanse of his bed, to roll over so that you’re laying on top of him. He touches your hips, your ass, the smooth plane of your back, all the way up to your shoulderblades before wrapping an arm around your waist and keeping you there. 

He kisses you silly, cradling your cheek with one hand. Occasionally, he allows you to pull away, but you never go far. He’ll play with the strands of your hair, gazing at you with a satisfied, smug smirk on his lips. 

“It’s a date party,” Jack says eventually.

“What is?” You ask, your nose scrunching in confusion. 

“The ugly sweater party. It’s a date party. I was conning you into being my date.”

You barely stifle a laugh. “You’re a fucking freak.”

“Hey,” Jack complains, pouting. “Not all of us can just say shit like ��be mine’ in the middle of sex.”

You pat his chest, clicking your tongue at him to reprimand him for mocking your words. “Says the boy who tried to trick me into being his date for a frat function.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Jack shrugs, pulling you in for another kiss.

It’s slow, like the first one. Your lips move together until you’ve both run out of air. Jack returns to your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“Gonna get you a Plan B in the morning,” he says. His tone sounds like he’s wondering, still thinking about it, although you know that he’s stating a fact and formulating a plan. “But I think, if we want to keep doing this, we’re going to have to figure something out about birth control.”

Normally, you wouldn’t allow a man to tell you what to do with your body. Today, though, you concede. He’s right. The world isn’t ready for a little Jack, and you don’t want him to stop coming inside of you, so you make a mental note to call your doctor tomorrow.

Still, you can’t resist the chance to make a joke.

“Maybe we’ll get you a vasectomy instead,” you tease, touching his bottom lip with your index finger. “They’re reversible, you know.”

note: i couldn't resist posting this, since i finished it before i expected to. I LOVE YOU FRAT JACK! (am willing to skip the plan b but only if you're also down)

[charmwasjess]

Lightsaber Theory: Obi-Wan "Sith Lords are Our Specialty" Kenobi consistently loses duels to Dooku not for any reason of technical form mismatch or lack of ability, but because Dooku is not even pretending to try to kill him. Resultantly, Obi-Wan can’t figure out what the fuck is going on when they fight. 

Obi-Wan: (preparing to defend an expected lethal strike) You’ll answer for your enormities, Count!

Dooku: (giving him the lightest love tap on the leg) Don’t be so sure, my special good lineage baby boy, so perfect in my eyes. 

Obi-Wan: …What?

Dooku: What?

Which Dooku and Obi-Wan proud lineage moment is even the most unhinged? There are so many to choose from! Is it Dooku’s frequent inability, both in AotC and TCW, to keep from spontaneously gushing about Sidious’s plans and even his own dark secrets to Obi-Wan?? Is it the time in Labyrinth of Evil where Dooku drags a long-suffering, bored Grievous over to watch a holorecording of Anakin and Obi-Wan thwarting his plans yet again, to point out how beautifully they’re working together as a team and how much he likes watching their lightsaber work evolve? Is it in the recent Brotherhood novel, where Obi-Wan just has to casually namedrop Qui-Gon to get Dooku to do exactly what he wants?

Obi-Wan is a big problem for Sidious in his mission to destabilize and corrupt Anakin, and Sidious knows it. He needs him out of the picture to do the same isolating, evil bullshit that worked so well when ensnaring Dooku himself. But the war has been going on for years now, and guess who remains inconveniently alive? And whose job was that to take care of? Oh yeah. I remember. His useless, Padawan assassin-collecting apprentice: fucking Count Dooku. By the time of RotS, Sidious has specifically ordered Dooku to make fucking sure Obi-Wan is dead only for him to completely ignore the command about a half-dozen times.

Going by the Stover RotS novelization, in the same scene where Dooku also literally refers to Obi-Wan as his fucking grandson actually, add that to our earlier list, Sidious reiterates that KILL OBI-WAN is the plan (over the sound of Dooku’s loud complaining) moments before that final duel.  I kind of wish we’d gotten a shot of Sidious's incredulous, enraged expression as Dooku knocks Obi-Wan unconscious and pins him safely out of the way. He is, once again, going out of his way to not kill Obi-Wan in that duel, and this time directly disobeying his Master to his face after they just had a conversation about it. You just know exactly what Sidious must be thinking at that moment. Oh, Dooku. You are so fucking fired.

[cloned-eyes]

Big info drop under the cut

Ghoul

CC-1313 I Formerly Commander Jenot of Battalion 331st (destroyed)

Currently leading Special Cloneforce Hellhounds

Backstory

Upbringing

CC-1313 was raised and trained to eventually become a Clone Comander for the GAR. The majority of his childhood years were spend with his batch brothers and fellow soon to be Commanders Fox and Wolffe to which he remained a close bond of brotherhood even after the tragedy of Toydaria and his fall into absolute disloyalty of the GAR and the Republic. During this time he still used the name Jenot.

Tragedy of Toydaria

Jenot and the 331st served under Pong Krell for the first few months of the war. Even though the 331st was a very skilled and sturdy battillion it suffered great loses under the reckless and uncaring lead of the Jedi General. Shrinking it down to half it's size in the span of only three months.

While still unshaken in his loyality to the GAR and the Republic Jenot couldn't help to develop doubts and distrust in his supiriours. Struggeling a lot to keep his ranks together and his men motivated.

Eventually the separatist launched a grand attack on Toydaria and even though Pong Krell was well aware that he hadn't the capacity to stand against it he still gave the order to engage - although not leading his men himself but calling in the Jedi Knight Uros Io who at this point just recently rejoined the Jedi Order and lacked any practical expirience on the battlefield. Even though General Io was an extremly skilled Jedi, she was of no use as a General in a dire situation like this. And even though she realised her short comings and let Jenot take charge it was apparent that with lacking men and gear this battle was one that couldn't be won.

They managed to hold the line for three weeks before the overpowering seperatist forces started to push them back. Jenot watched his men die like flies and was aware that it would be a shared fate. Being pushed back to the capital the last remaining men of the 331st were killed by an airstrike. A fate Jenot almost shared but escaped due to General Io keeping him alive long enough for the arriving reinforcements to evacuate them.

Recovery on Kamino

For his recovery Ghoul and a handful severly damaged other clones of his battilion were shipped to Kamino while General Io - who suffered from great injuries herself - was treated back at the Jedi Temple. Due to a missunderstanding only Jenot was actually treated on Kamino. His recovery the only one prioritised while the rest of his men were utilised as test subjects for kaminoan expiriments - all of them lethal.

Unable to move or talk or respond in any way Jenot had to wittness the rest of his loyal battilion perish and listening to the staff in charge festered an untamable rage and hatred for the GAR, the Jedi and the Republic. His trust and loyalty shattering for ever, turning him into the man he soon would become. Even though his life was spared due to General Io, he began to nurse a life long hatred of her. Blaming her orders for the inhumane deaths of his men.

During his time in recovery Jenot developed a habit of sneaking out of the medical wing in which he was treated. Seeking silent corners for himself where he could watch the see outside rage. It was in one of those fateful nights he found himself in the company of three clone cadets who had caught rumor about "dead clone walking" - a ghoul risen from the battlefield.

Jenot, unable to overcome his anger and pain- decided to show those unsuspecting kids the reality of war and the reality of what it meant to be a clone: being property and being exploited.

Little did he know that those three exact cadets would become his new squad only two years later.

Embracing the crude name whisperd behind his back, he decided to let Jenot die and embraced the man he had been beaten into - Ghoul.

A Dead Clone Walking

Even with the loss of his arm, fingers, hearing and lower face Ghoul recoverd exeptionally swift. Making no secret out of his newfound hatred for the GAR supiriors in charge intended to get him decommissioned. Plans that fell short due to General Io convincing the Jedi Order to extent protection over the clone commander.

And while Ghoul proved himself to be difficult to work with he was also exceptionally skilled. The decision was made that he would operate solo, taking on special tasks that where considered suicide missions. Whether he failed or not was relativley not important. If he succeeded the Republic had intel, if not they had one pesky clone less to worry about. While getting accostumed to his new prosthetics and regaining back his former strength Ghoul was shortly tasked with overseeing the training of Cloneforce 99. His battlefield expirience deemed highly valuable and wanted to be taught to the expirimental unit to better their chances of success later.

After Kamino

Ghoul spend his time with achiving the impossible. Retrieving whatever was asked off him. He was well aware that the missions picked out for him were exclusively lethal ones. Yet he returned every single time to spite the GAR. To make a point. He was avidence of what the war was actually. The ugly shadow of the Republic. And he wasn't to be silenced. During this time his mind spiraled deeper and deeper into rage. His opinions became borderline traiterous and he walked a very fine line of getting caught for them. It was also the time he dettached himself from the idea of clone brotherhood. Getting rejected in the truth he had lived by fellow soldiers and shuned out, being nothing but a ghost story for them Ghoul grew resentful. Usual loyalty and empathy clones reserved for eachothers died out in Ghoul. Isolating himself even further from others, going as far as questioning if the men he called his actual brothers saw him still as an equal - Saw Ghoul as an equal - or if they only tolerated him because of what they once had.

Becoming Human again

Being pressured by Wolffe to join him for a drink at the 79's Ghoul met Odessa, a Twilek bartender and refugee from Ryloth. Having no interest in making "friends" Ghoul didn't spare Odessa much mind, just as everybody else. But fate brought both of them back together over and over again, causing a presumed dead side of Ghoul to seek out connection again. Slowly falling in love with the gentle, bubbly Twilek back on Coruscant. Giving him an actual reason to come back. A newfound motivation to keep fighting. Not for the GAR, not for the Republic but for her. Falling helplessly in love with her.

Asking her for her hand only a year after only to almost die on a mission and going mission for months afterwards. Leaving a pregnat Odessa behind, unbeknown to him. Though luckily being offered the chance to return due to the unyielding loyalty of his new unit. His Hellhounds - Wizard, 2020 and Fang - who had accompinied him during the mission and kept searching for him after being seperated and eventually succeeding in tracking him down and bringing him back. Greatly injured but alive.

Order 66 and the aftermath

During Order 66 Ghoul was still recovering from his injuries. Allowing himself to spend some time with his wife and newborn child. It didn't take him long that with the fall of the Republic the time of clones was also limted. While during the Republic he had imunity granted due to the Jedi he was defenseless under this new Imperium. Determined to keep his family save Ghoul deserted and escaped the Imperiums graps just in time.

Settling on a small, unimportant planet in the outer rim where he and Odessa build a live for themselves. Around two years after the fall of the Republic, awaiting a second a child Ghoul was visited by Rex, Echo and an old friend Howzer. The three seeked support in their cause to save clones. Ghoul, while initially unwilling to help feeling resentful over the treatment he had reviced over telling the truth even before Order 66 still, eventually agreed to help after Howzer explained that his Hellhounds had fallen victim to the Imperium aswell and were held captive.

Though never fully part of Rex's and Echos clone rebellion, Ghoul often found himself helping out.

With the years passing Ghoul and Odessa had another two kids - teh youngest seemingly sensitive to the Force. Doing what he was best at, Ghoul spend his time building a Guild for Bounty Hunters. Most of them other clones but also his oldest son and daughter. Though the latter eventual leaving the family business to travel the universe alone.

Trivia

Jenot is the polish word for Raccon dog.

Ghoul is deaf and requires hearing aids. Odessa taught him Ryl sign language. He's fluent in basic sign language and Ryl sign language

Ghoul due to his lack of a real tongue can't taste regular food. Odessa makes him super spicy protein bars that he can take onto mission with him.

The tattoo on his right arm is Odessas Lekku pattern. He got it before he asked her to marry him.

Ghoul killed a stalker of Odessa without ever telling her. It also sparked his friendship with Halo - who was an accidental wittness and helped him dispose of the body.

Ghoul is the middle brother of the Vulpus Trio- Fox, Ghoul, Wolffe

His favorite colour is azure blue. It reminds him of Odessas eyes

The order of his children is Vahan, Tarkona, Reyk and Rha

Ghoul can understand Ryl but is very rocky when it comes to speaking it. His kids love to tease him with it.

His favorite drink is Oryxxian Catsblood. An alcoholic beverage that leaves a nice warm burn in his throat despite his prostethics

Ghoul was very proud of his beard and its one of the things he misses dearly since his injury.

Vahan and Tarkona are characterwise carbon copies of Ghoul, while Reyk and Rha resemble Odessa

Odessa is @therisingdarkness character. Their kids as well as the Hellhounds are our shared effort

If you want to know more about Ghoul and Odessa check out these amazing fic of her

Five times (Ghoul x Odessa story)

[uzumaki-rebellion]

An Alex Cross Joint Mission

Alex Cross & The Heartbreak Brotherhood Part 1

Main Cast: Alex Cross, John Clark, and Terry Richmond, Black Female OC.

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Violence, Murder, Mystery, Thriller, and Drama. Grown Folks Shit.

Summary: Homicide Detective Alex Cross must join forces with former elite Navy SEAL John Clark, and former marine MCMAP instructor Terry Richmond to solve the mystery of a murderous stalker seeking revenge on all three of them. The only connection the men have to each other is a sexy femme fatale they each had an intimate relationship with recently.

Word count: 1.8K

Dedicating this one to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes !

"Six minutes

Six minutes

Six minutes Doug E. Fresh

You're on…"

Doug E. Fresh—"The Show"

Alex Cross bounced around in the front seat of his Ford Explorer in time to the old Hip Hop song blasting on his radio. From the rearview mirror he glimpsed his nine-year-old son Damon and seven-year-old daughter Jannie rolling their eyes at him.

"Y'all don't know nothing about this. Nana Mama used to play this for me when I was little to hype up my day."

Both of his children ignored him as he bobbed his head in time to Doug E. Fresh and the Get Fresh Crew's "The Show". He told a little white lie to them. It was his mother who used to play it for him when he was four years old, before she passed away from a drug overdose. Alex avoided mentioning his mother because it would remind his children of their own mother, who died in a drive-by shooting a couple of years ago. The pain was still tender, yet he wanted to get them excited about going to a church picnic with Nana Mama and other children from the community center he volunteered for.

Alex had other plans for himself that afternoon. He was going to meet a beautiful woman he'd been spending time with for the past six weeks whenever she was in town. A fellow doctorate in psychology, Sasha worked for a global PR firm and traveled a lot for her job. They'd recently become intimate, and the sex was mind-blowing for him. Nothing interested him more than a sexy, intelligent woman with a body for days. He'd been reluctant to take the next step with Sasha, preferring to keep their sporadic dates platonic and fun. Spending time with her without a commitment allowed him to dip his toe back into the dating scene without pressure. She was flexible, not put off by him being a widow with children, and seemed to always know when to give him space for his home life. After four weeks of seeing each other, he crossed over into intimacy easily with her. Sasha was hard to resist. Forty-two days in, he had an itch for her that needed scratching.

He pulled into the parking lot of the Holy Comforter- St. Cyprian Catholic Church. Nana Mama stood by her Blue Honda Accord with her best friend Mrs. Whitman, waiting for them. He turned down the music and watched his children jump out from the back, grateful to be freed from Dad's old-time music. He stepped out of the car for a minute.

"I'll see you guys later…hey, have fun today," he said.

Damon and Jannie nodded, running over to Nana Mama's car. Alex's grandmother had to do some earlier prep work at the church kitchen and he agreed to drop his children off later, before he met up with Sasha at the National Mall.

"Are you sure you and Sasha don't want to hang with us? We'd like to meet your new girlfriend," Nana Mama said.

She gave him a teasing grin, and Mrs. Whitman chuckled.

"No, I'm not ready to bring people around the kids yet," he said.

He leaned over and kissed Nana Mama's cheek. Jumping back into his car, he waved at Damon and Jannie. Changing the music on the radio to something more adult contemporary, he headed for a grown-up picnic on the National Mall. He'd also been a little proactive in reserving a luxury hotel room. The four times they'd had sex had been in hotel suites that she booked while in town. She lived in Maryland when not traveling, and they both stayed cautious with their personal lives interacting just yet. They were still in the getting-to-know-each-other phase with fucking thrown into the equation now. He made plans to wine and dine her later that evening after a long "nap" at the hotel. Nana Mama knew not to wait up for him because he wanted to spend as much time with Sasha as he could before she jetted off to solve some other public figure's national reputation.

Traffic slowed him up, but he didn't fret. It was a sunny day with blue skies and he was on his way to have some adult fun after a stressful week of work. He had some vacation time stacked up, and he wanted to convince Sasha to run off to Vegas for a weekend. Janet Jackson would start her music residency there and he snagged some tickets because Sasha was a huge fan.

He parked his car in the visitor parking lot on Ohio Drive and strolled toward the spot where they would meet, carrying a fancy bottle of wine in a bag. Sasha texted a picture of herself to his phone, blowing him a kiss, letting him know she provided all the goodies for their day. All he had to do was show up. This was part of Sasha's routine on their dates. She'd plan something special or spontaneous and give him the locations to meet her where she'd make him feel like a king. He reciprocated when he could, but Sasha was part of the jet set, often overseas. Most of their time together had to be centered on her schedule of availability.

Alex wandered past other people who had the same plans to picnic in the sun. He looked around for the familiar gorgeous face with the dark mocha skin as soft as a rose petal and those lush lips he so wanted to kiss right then and there. Sasha was so fine that it made him step up his dating game, which had always been above solid before he was even married.

Checking the location pin she sent him, Alex surveyed the surroundings. She had to be late, or moved to a different spot. Quite a few tourists meandered about taking pictures. Perched on a picnic table, a light brown-skinned Black man in expensive maroon jogging fits stared at his smartphone. He glanced at Alex with green eyes and gave the international Black man head nod of "W'sup." Alex returned the nod and moved past him, keeping an eye out for his date.

Another Black man glanced around the area near Alex, checking his phone, too. He eyed Alex and dropped his gaze back to his phone as it dinged a message for him. The man grinned at his phone and faint dimples popped in his cheeks. He had on comfortable tan cargo pants and a tight, long-sleeved white shirt.

Alex sported a light blue sweater with pale blue drawstring casual pants. D.C. weather was always fickle later in the fall. Warm one minute, chilly the next.

Ten minutes went by and Alex started fidgeting while waiting. He finally pulled out his smartphone from his pants pocket and called her number.

"Sasha, I'm at the spot for our picnic. No worries if you're running late. Just wanted to make sure I'm in the right location," he said.

The green-eyed man on the bench stared at Alex when he said Sasha's name out loud. So did the dimpled dude near him. He heard a distant sound of something popping like a firecracker or a whip snapping suddenly. One woman let out a terrifying scream as her companion, another woman, fell face forward onto the ground. Dead.

A sharp, hot pressure radiated in Alex's left shoulder and several more people screamed as a blood stain bloomed like a rose and ruined his good sweater. The shock of being shot hadn't registered in his brain yet as he noticed the dimpled man near him take a grazing on the hip from the same bullet that exited Alex's body. Another shot tried to take the stranger down again, but the dimpled man jumped behind the picnic table as the green-eyed man dove over the side joining him, just missing getting struck himself by another two bullets that went through the picnic table and bench.

Alex dropped to the ground and yelled at other potential victims to run and hide. From his position on the ground, he pressed a hand against his shoulder, using his sweater to help staunch the flow of blood.

"You okay, man?" the dimpled man asked.

"Yeah, clean shot through me…you?"

"I'll live. Bullet that hit you nicked me."

Green eyes used his phone to call 911. The dimpled man looked in the direction of the gunshots.

"That's a roof shot with a high caliber rifle. A good mile away. I'm guessing the museum over there from this angle," dimples said.

Police sirens blared in the distance, so did fire trucks.

No more shots were fired.

The green-eyed man glanced at Alex's wound.

"Keep putting pressure on it," green eyes said. "I think we should stay here until help arrives. Those shots weren't random. The first shot that hit that woman was meant for me. It looked like she got in the way by accident. You were next…and then you. This was a planned hit. Someone aimed all those bullets at us."

"I'm Alex," Alex said, lifting himself to rest against the picnic bench.

He needed to collect information from these men.

"I'm Terry," green eyes said,

"John," the dimpled man added reluctantly.

"Who would want the three of us taken out? We don't even know each other," Alex mumbled to himself.

"I heard you mention a name when you made a phone call before the shots happened…Sasha," John said.

"Yeah, she was my date today," Alex said.

"What she look like?" Terry interjected.

Alex grunted and pulled out his cell phone with his right hand. He swiped a screen to the last text photo he received.

"That's her," Alex said.

Terry's eyes narrowed, and John's lips curled down into a frown. They each pulled out their phones and showed Alex the same photo and text from Sasha.

"What the hell is this?" Alex said.

Cops and paramedics arrived on the scene. Alex left Nana Mama a message on her phone, and then contacted his best friend and partner on the force, John Sampson, who arrived soon after the paramedics lifted him onto the back of their ambulance. Terry stayed around to answer questions, but John had disappeared.

On the ride to the hospital, Alex wracked his brain trying to figure out who his lover Sasha really was. Had she set them all up for murder in one fell swoop? What had he done to warrant her plotting something like that? Or was someone else behind it? John vanished without a trace, and that seemed suspicious, but would he take a chance of getting wounded like that if he were part of the nefarious plot?

Alex closed his eyes.

The first chance he got, he was going to investigate the two men that were marked for death with him.

A.N.:

Giving y'all a taste now. I'll be working on adding updates in spring of 2025, so bookmark it! I have so much to write in other fandoms, lol! I haven't watched the series yet, but Aldis is that dude and I have been waiting to write something for him. So combining him with two other hot men is a treat!

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Lmk Ghost AU - Shadowpeach x Reader

I've been watching scenes from a show called ghost. They are stuck in my head so what so I do? Make a new AU obviously. With many obvious changes but that is where the main inspiration is from.

Not gonna make a fanfic of it... yet but I wanna put the idea out there for this. At least not a full several chapter fanfic.

Reader has inherited a house from her recently passed away grandmother. A huge mansion out in the mountains, being a broke graduate student she takes the house.

She along with her best friend Spirit move into the house. After a long debate, Spirit doesn't want to leave her alone.

Reader loves the house as soon as she walks through the doors. Unaware that the place is haunted by dun dun dun ghosts! (Didn't see that one coming, did you?)

Anyways Spirit is a glamoured monkey demoness so she is able to see the ghosts. Of course she ignores them at first until she realizes something strange.

These ghosts are able to actually touch and affect the living realm. She finds this out when she is separated from Reader and can't warn her soon enough.

Sun Wukong and The Six Eared Macaque are curious about the two people 'intruding' on their home. But think Reader is cute and follow her around until...

An accident happens with some artifacts that Reader finds and Reader falls unconscious. She wakes up to Spirit freaking out and getting her up.

However when she wakes up there are more people than just Spirit in the room.

Said people are the Brotherhood and the pilgrims. (In this au, Wukong and Macaque were NOT immortal)

Spirit: Reader, Reader wake up!!

Reader: *Wakes up seeing ghosts around her*

Wukong: Looks like she's alive.

Peng: Obviously, she's alive. *Rolling their eyes*

Tang: Oh, thank goodness. Why would you even allow for her to enter the library!?

Macaque: Oh shut it Monk.

Reader: Who are all these people!?

Ghosts: She can see us!?

Spirit: Reader what do you- Reader!!

Reader: *passes out before Spirit can finish.*

The ghosts are shocked and want to know more. None of them have been able to speak with the living for ages.

They can move objects around, such as moving small objects. And each have their own 'ghost power' (still working on who gets what power), but other than that, they can't do anything to the world.

The artifact that affected Reader also allows her to touch the ghosts and them her. Why? Because I say so. This means that many of the ghosts take this opportunity to scare her.

At first, they try to make her leave (don't know why yet), but by the time they convince her to leave, they actually want her to stay! Unfortunately when she wants to leave they want her to stay.

So it becomes a fight to get her to stay! Hehe~ Maybe they shouldn't threaten to kill her. 😅

Got questions on this AU? Send them my way. Either asks or comments work wonders! I do take suggestions btw. Also you are always welcome to reblog ����

[otomiyaa]

Catching up (Tag Game)

Ive been a bit on and off and felt like making a tag game so here's one to catch up on each other's interests and hyperfixations! Answer the 10 questions and tag 5 people. No pressure ofc!

@fluffandgiggles @ppystkposts @crazy-as-a-jaybird @blobbirobbi @kusuguricafe + everyone who wants to join! **edit + everyone who received a notification from when I tried to tag 10+ people and the tumblr post broke 😂

❤️ Newest obsessions: Dungeon Meshi, probably has been clear.. and capybaras. Taylor Swift not very new but refueled obsession since seeing the eras tour concert!

🎥 Last 3 movies I watched and what I thought of them:

Inside Out 2 - CRYING SOBBING LOVING IT SO MUCH

The Parent Trap 1998 rewatch - Still golden fav, one of my guiltiest pleasures

Sous la Seine / Under Paris - Love a good shark movie but thought this was mediocre smh. the ending was cool tho hahaha

🎶 3 songs I discovered recently and love:

Peggy - FEMININE RAGE

Spencer Sutherland - Alive

HOYO-MIX - Interstellar Journey

💘 Newest fav ships: Falin x Marcille , Chilchuck x Senshi, and Laios x Kabru all from Dungeon Meshi!!!

📺 Currently watching: The Apothecary Diaries, Wind Breaker, House of the Dragon, Pokemon Johto Journeys (rewatch), FMA Brotherhood (rewatch), Mushoku Tensei S2 (might drop it)

📖 Currently reading: Dungeon Meshi manga, Define the Relationship manhwa, XXX Buddy manhwa (both manhwas on hold but I'll continue reading soon!)

🎮 Currently Playing: Fortnite, Minecraft, Genshin Impact (haven't played since Cyno story quest tho), Zelda Tears of the Kingdom (on hold), Yakuza 0, Zelda Skyward Sword, Hogwarts Legacy, note: I kinda dropped all mobile games but I'm really considering starting love & deepspace again hmmm.

😍 Currently looking forward to: New Fortnite update, Genshin Natlan update (even though I have to catch up on the previous ones lol), the new Deadpool movie, Blue Lock movie (seeing it this week!)

✅ Recently finished: Kaiju No. 8 (anime), other than that no books, manga, games or shows. All still in progress lol.

💌 Something to Share: I'm glad to see people are enjoying the x reader drabbles and I'm motivated to work on them faster when I can! Thanks everyone for your patience.. T-T

[plushyvi]

“it’s a common notion!”

game: fallout 4

characters: paladin danse, arthur maxson

summary: he gets a little jealous seeing someone else be interested in you the same way he is. he starts to wonder if it’s a common occurrence for you.

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, reader isn’t sole but you can read it as if they were, jealousy,

↣ paladin danse

“knight.”

you glance up from your seated position to see your sponsor, power armour and all, watching over you. “paladin danse. how was your search in lexington? find anything useful?”

“yes. recovered some brotherhood weapons and holotags for captain kells,” he explains to you as he watches you take your hands off the scribe in front of you, “what have you been doing since i left the prydwen?”

you think it was pretty obvious with how proctor cade has you running a mock infirmary in the armoury bay. you were given a white coat to show people you were acting as a second doctor to cade. the bay was filled with tens of soldiers who came back for a fight with the institute at a hold-out spot in the commonwealth, all injured and most near to death. cade’s office was packed and you offered your help since you worked closely with him a few times.

“are you blind, paladin?” you mumble out in a joking matter. danse shows a slightly embarrassed look. but you smile at him. “the most recent outpost the brotherhood established was overrun by synths. proctor cade cannot tend to all of these soldiers.”

“right…” he grumbles off as you turn back to scribe in front of you.

you hold his hand, wiping the blood off his palm and trying to clean his cut. he winces, but the obvious blush that patterns his pale cheeks is obvious. he cannot stop looking at you.

“i… i have some injuries i’d like you to look at,” danse suddenly speaks up. you look up at him from your seated position. “i know cade is busy.”

“oh, well, i’m also a bit preoccupied too, paladin,” you say and finish wrapping the scribe’s hand, “is it urgent? how badly does it hurt?”

“a ten,” he says without hesitation. you stare at him with a raised brow. “i, uh… just come see me when you have the time.”

you go to respond when proctor cade comes into the armoury in a hurry. his sleeves are tugged up to his elbows and he has dried blood on his fingertips. his eyes meet yours and he hurries over.

“thank you, knight y/n, i appreciate all your help,” he sincerely says. you finish off the bandages before sending the scribe off. he does so reluctantly and shakes your hand for a bit too long for danse’s liking. “i can handle the rest of the soldiers here. you need to get some rest yourself; elder maxson said that you had a tiring mission this morning.”

“are you sure, proctor?” you ask as you stand up. there were still a lot of patients here, albeit you had dealt with the more serious cases. many of the ones left were just injuries. “i can stay for another hour.”

danse stands behind you. cade, looking between the both of you, notices the paladin’s slightly furrowed brows. he only nods.

“yes, knight, do not worry. i’ve been the doctor on this ship for as long as i can remember, i know a thing or two,” he says to you. you nod your head and wipe off the blood on your own hands. “thank you for your help. i’m sure maxson is also grateful for your actions. now, go rest.”

you put the coat down on the box you were sitting on and take out the supplies from your pockets. the medkit was given to cade before you turned to danse.

“okay, leave your power armour here and i’ll meet you at your room.” you tell him. danse agrees and moves carefully around the patients to take off his armour.

as he removes it, the same scribe from before approaches him.

“paladin danse?” he mutters out quietly.

“yes, soldier?” danse replies, head held up tall.

“i wanted to say… thank you for teaching y/n the way of the brotherhood,” the scribe says to danse. his cheeks are tinted red and he plays with his fingers nervously. “they’re an incredible soldier, and they’re so nice… i admire them quite a lot—”

“that is ‘knight y/n’, scribe,” danse interrupts with a harsh tone. the scribe jumps a little at his words, and he slowly nods. “they are just doing their job, as they are ordered to.”

the scribe looks to the ground for a moment, a bit upset. danse feels like he should be apologetic, but he isn’t. he only keeps his stoic look on his face.

“right… i apologise, paladin danse, i did not mean to overstep my boundaries,” the scribe salutes to danse before looking away, “thank you, and knight y/n.”

danse lets the scribe go in silence.

“be easy on the kid, danse,” cade speaks up as he grabs some stimpacks from the box against the wall. danse turns his head to look at him. “it’s just a lil’ crush. knight y/n saved a lot of these soldiers, who wouldn’t be compelled to think about them?”

danse is quiet as he ponders the question. proctor cade goes to do his work as danse moves to his room.

he opens the door quietly to see you sleeping on his bed. your outer layer was taken off, jacket strewn on his desk and you laid on his bed, silently breathing. danse closes the door behind him and unzips the back of his uniform as quietly as he can without disturbing you.

truth be told, he wasn’t injured at all. his retrieval mission went as smooth as humanly possible, so he didn’t need to have anything looked over. he just wanted your attention on him.

he changes into a comfortable shirt and sweatpants before locking the door. it would be heinous is anyone caught you two together in his quarters. you yourself were in a tank top and your pants from your gear, shoes set by the bed. you looked peaceful.

danse sits on the bed as he stares at you.

cade had him thinking; did lots of people have a thing for you? if yes, then how many?

he feels as if it’s childish to wonder such a thing, but he couldn’t help himself. you were an intoxicating thought that clouded his mind.

he thinks that maybe you heard his thoughts, because you suddenly stir and turn around, now facing him. your eyes flutter open and danse feels his face heat up at how you look at him.

“ah, sorry,” you say and start sitting up and wiping your eyes, “i’m exhausted—”

danse leans forward and wraps an arm around your shoulders. he tugs you close before he lays down on the bed. his thin blanket is pulled on top of the both of you. your face is smushed against his chest and your hands press against his upper stomach, trapped.

“get some rest,” he tells you.

“danse…?” you murmur against his skin. he shivers. “what’s going on with you today? i don’t see any injuries.”

he doesn’t say anything in response at first, utterly embarrassed by how he’s acting. he would never tell off a scribe for something like that. perhaps he should apologise when he finds the time.

but for now, danse kisses the crown of tour forehead.

“nothing, soldier,” he sighs out quietly as he closes his eyes. he can feel your hands slowly circle around his waist before you tug him closer, “i was just concerned, is all.”

“i’m okay, danse,” you respond, “you didn’t have to lie.”

“i’m sorry…”

“it’s fine. let’s just sleep now.”

he keeps his eyes open for a bit longer, which prompts you to sigh and lift yourself up. he watches as you plant a kiss to his lips, gentle enough to try and lure him to sleep. he relaxed into you in seconds.

“just talk to me later.” you tell him with a small smile.

he manages to doze off not long after you. the whole entire time, he thinks about how the scribe is right — you are an amazing soldier, and you have the biggest heart. that’s why he fell in love with you.

could he really blame anyone else for doing the same?

↣ arthur maxson

he’s on the ground for a change as he decided he should accompany you on your next task: training the new initiates.

“keep your hands steady,” you say as you watch them attempt to shoot the glass bottles on the boxes. most shots miss. “and don’t hold your breath for so long. you want to pass out in front of the enemy?”

“no, knight-captain!” a call is heard from the firing team.

“i want to see a smashed bottle from each of you,” you say with crossed arms. you watch from the sidelines and see how confident they are with a weapon — which isn’t that much. “we aren’t moving on until we get a clean shot from each of you.”

elder maxson had taken it upon himself to come and watch how you trained them, and he’s impressed. you’re not bad at it, just the right mixture of tough and encouraging. however, he thinks maybe he should’ve asked someone else to do this.

“well done, initiate frieda,” you say as you walk behind her. she lowers her gun and looks back to you, big doe eyes. she was shorter than you and her eyes seemed like the glossiest thing in the world. “you’ll be a sharpshooter in no time. i’m impressed.”

maxson clenches his hands around his bicep. he's let you train initiates before. did you always act so friendly with them? no, you weren't even acting friendly, you were being... genuinely nice. it made maxson wonder how you survived out there.

as you continue to help the other initiates, the girl turns to her friend beside her and begins to squeal quietly.

“did you hear that? knight y/n likes me!” she giggles out, unaware of the looming presence behind her. her friend goes wide eyed before going back to shooting. “i hope i’m on their team when we’re ready for the field, they’re so nice and so pretty—”

“shoot initiate dina’s bottle, soldier.”

frieda slowly looks back behind her to see elder maxson’s glaring eyes. his presence shook her and made the poor girl panic. her laser pistol shoot in her hands before she gulped.

“y—yes, elder maxson, sir!” she replies loudly.

that grabs your attention. you stop mid-sentence as you were talking to another initiate. looking to see the commotion, you’re surprised when you get the scene of maxson standing a foot away from the initiate you had complimented, looking about as mad as ever. you let out a small sigh.

initiate frieda shakily aims at her friend’s bottle. it isn’t a surprise when she misses by a long shot. that makes her friend and all the other initiates, who witnessed you compliment the girl, cringe in fear. the girl swallows the lump of nervousness and carefully lowers her gun.

“if you cannot shoot the target on demand, or under any pressure at all, you are not a suitable candidate for not only the brotherhood, but for knight y/n’a team,” elder maxson’s booming voice reaches across the whole training ground. the initiate looks as if she’s about to cry. but the leader doesn’t let up. “their team is only filled with the ones i deem the best. if you wish to be chosen for such a task, you must work very hard.”

“yes, elder maxson.” initiate frieda mumbles. she wanted to shrivel up.

“and if i may give you a word for advice,” his voice goes quieter, but his glare is harsher. she feels like she’s seen a ghost. “keep you focus on the brotherhood’s goal of freeing the commonwealth. i assure you, knight y/n does not have the time or the interest in someone like you, the way you do for them.”

she’s silent for a moment before she nods her head. elder maxson lifts himself up high again before looking around to the older soldiers.

"take this as a warning to all of you," he shouts as he begins to march. you have to hold back from rolling your eyes. "the brotherhood is now your whole life. you have no time to think of anything other than the good of the commonwealth. if you have joined for any alterior motives," he takes the time to look at you up and down. you don't know whether to be offended or not. "it's best if you leave now while you still can."

the initiates are quiet before they call out a 'yes, sir!' to him. going back to their training, most of them are scared out of their minds. but frieda especially; all she even did was call you pretty.

"elder, may i speak with you for a moment?" you question with a clenched jaw. he stares at you and, without even confirmation, you grab the fur of his jacket and begin dragging him around the corner of a building. you turn back to the eavesdropping initiates. "continue your shooting. when i come back, i do not want to see a single bottle left standing. knight rhys, make sure no one is cheating!"

the knight standing to the side on watch duty at the airport perks up at his name. with a silent groan, he nods his head. he turns to face the initiates and calls out to them to begin. laser shooting fills your ears before you hide behind the corner with maxson.

"arthur!" you grumble out with furrowed brows. he raises a brow at you. "what are you doing? i told you that you could come and watch if it meant you were quiet and didn't scare off my initiates more than you needed to!"

he crosses his arms over his chest as if to show you that he was pissed off as well. you rest your hand on your hip.

"you need to get your initiates in check. you cannot have them thinking this way about you," he tells you with a shake of his head, "not only will they be fawning over you all the time instead of doing brotherhood work, they will be distracted on the battlefield. careless lives will be lost, knight."

"what are you even—arthur," you sigh as you rub your temple. it's not like he was wrong, you needed to whip them into shape, but it was so early. "this is my second lesson with these initiates. give me a week and i'll have soldiers. just... you need to calm down a bit. what happened?"

he holds back from telling you. maxson was only slightly above admitting that he was wrong, but he'd be damned if he had to admit this to you. the crease between his brows becomes more defined.

"initiate frieda will be under knight wagner's supervision. i don't believe she would be an asset to you."

"shouldn't i have a say in that, elder?" you inquire as you raised a brow, "she is becoming a good shooter, and she gets along well with other brotherhood soldiers. not only that, but she got the highest agility score on the first day. i'd say she is an acceptable candidate for my team."

maxson rolls his eyes at you. your eye twitches at his behaviour.

"arthur, seriously," you exhale slowly and take his gloved hand in yours. he finally drops his arms from his chest and slowly relaxes his shoulders. "what's wrong? you've never been so hostile towards an initiate before."

it takes him a moment to gather up the courage to tell you anything, but soon enough he does.

"it would seem that these new initiates have taken a liking to you," he admits, "and i... i don't intend on letting that go any further."

your heart melts at his words before you let the smile you were holding back now take over your face. it’s a little funny, which makes you cover your face with your free hand. maxson’s brow twitches at your reaction.

“alright, that’s enough, knight,” he scoffs at you. he yanks his hand out of yours and massages the back of his neck. “don’t coddle them, is my point. you have to be their commander, not their crush-magnet.”

“‘crush-magnet’? what are you, 12?” you joke with a hearty laugh. that makes his face turn pink with embarrassment. “it’s okay, arthur. i’ll make sure to keep them in line.”

he looks at your face a little longer before he nods his head. you smile again as he rests a hand on your shoulder. he’s always been sheepish when it comes to any form of affection towards you, even if it was just some kind words. you let him come closer to you and soon press a kiss to your cheek. an arm comes around to hold your waist and he sinks against you.

“captain y/n, they’ve successfully—” knight rhys comes around the corner to interrupt, only he widens his eyes at the scene. he stops on his tracks and clears his throat. maxson is quick to remove himself from you and you rake a step away from him. “ah, i apologise, i—i didn’t, uh… excuse me, but the initiates have cleared all the bottles.”

“thank you, rhys,” you say as you nod your head, “i’ll take it from here.”

he nods his head and walks away while rubbing his ear. you glance to maxson before you stretch your arms.

“okay, i have to get back to work,” you say as you straighten your jacket. maxson runs fingers through his hair and fixes his own overcoat too. “now if you’re going to stay, you need to keep quiet, arthur. they need to be scared of me too. the way you look at people is already enough to make them shit their pants.”

“alright, knight, i will still supervise.” he replies.

you flash him one last sweet smile before he hears you call out an order for combat training as you turn the corner. he stands there for a few seconds longer.

he’d have to get over the fact that you were as amazing to him as you were to others.

[quitealotofsodapop]

In Century Egg au, Wukong is very much in a weird position. His recovery takes long enough that he's still stuck in the Celestial Realm by the time the Brotherhood have their coup. It's for this exact reason that the Jade Emperor survives the coup, but his power still ends up usurped. In turn, Wukong and Xiaotian are kept as political hostages for the duration

We be talking in the notes here about Century egg au + how the Brotherhood likely gets involved.

Azure is already on guard at hearing how there's a stink between the Ten Kings and the ownership of Brother Macaque's soul - something he hadn't even known was an issue until recently. How come Macaque decided to barter his soul with the Bone Demon?

Then he hears something very interesting from a passing god;

First Ten King: "That was an eventful trial." Second Ten King: "Not everyday a trial for the dead ends with a birth." Third Ten King: "It's best we keep vigilant, however. As immortal as Sun Wukong once was, his child nearly absolved him of all his dao. The Queen Mother has all but threatened us not to send Ox and Horse to collect him during his recovery." Azure, overhearing: "wtf???"

Sun Wukong was in the trial for Macaque's soul? Odd, but not impossible given that they were once mates. But apparently Sun Wukong gave birth during the trial!? Since when was he expecting?! Wait, is that why Macaque escaped Diyu? To be with his pregnant mate? And since when they Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven - need to recover??

Why is the Queen Mother suddenly being so protective of the very same monkey that ruined her banquet all those centuries ago?!

As if the celestial lapdog couldn't fall farther from grace...

Azure scouts things out cautiously at first.

He visits the Celestial Realm under the guise of working for his Bodhisattva - when in reality he's keeping a watchful eye and ear on the palace itself.

Wukong appears to be in a critical health-state caused by one of the most natural acts a creature could preform. The tiny brown-furred monkey cub is rarely out of sight of it's birth parent, nor the ever-vigilant Macaque. It seems that the two adult monkeys have reconciled since the Journey - the admittedly adorable fluff ball in their arms evidence of such.

Over the coming days, Azure then sees a parade of creatures from all walks of life visit the couple.

The Stalwart Generals that were loyal to the King to a fault.

The Bodhisattva Guanyin that turned their former brother against them.

The former-celestial Princess that drew Brother Bull away from the Brotherhood - an impatient half-bull demon child clinging to her dress. Brother Bull still imprisoned for a crime not even the Underworld has clear explanation of.

A pair of modern-looking Western Sea Dragons, either one holding a pup that chatters excitedly about her "best-est newest friend" resting in their crib.

Azure was confused by the inclusion of the dragons, until he noticed a trio with eerily familiar souls visit the monkey's temporary home. The very same souls that rested within the Pilgrims that felled their remaining Brotherhood! In new shells, but recognisable all the same. The "Great" Monk that had turned their brother onto that futile Pilgrimage now a dumpy mortal scholar that spends days at a time reading inside the imperial library. Zhu Bajie, a celestial general turned demon, now a fretful cook that frequently appears at meal times to ensure that each monkey has their fill of food. Sha Wujing, a former fighter and royal cup-bearer, now no more than a meditative cat-minder.

Azure didn't think it could get any worse when he spotted the Lotus Prince Nezha himself worriedly check in on Wukong, receiving the mother-monkey equivalent of an adoring coo and hug from the King.

Then came the Queen Mother herself, followed soon by her many daughters. Azure had been struck dumb by her presence. Looking deeper into the matter, he learned that the Empress had in fact delivered the King's cub! The lion suspects that the Queen Mother has become attached to Wukong and his cub as surrogate grandchild, given that Iron Fan is adamant on keeping her calf hidden from other celestials. But another reason must be lurking...

When the Jade Emperor appears in a manner almost sheepish at the door to the recovery room, Azure throws up his hands with disbelief. Now he's seen everything! The very same emperor they tried to overthrow was now crying silent tears as he held Wukong's cub in his hand. He did not shed a single cross word or expression to the monkeys, even as the infant urinated on his hand - which Azure thought was delightfully ironic, perhaps the cub was inherently rebellious as it's parent had once been?

Azure Lion now has full reason to believe that Sun Wukong, and unfortunately Brother Macaque as well, has fully thrown his lot in with the celestial host. And whats more, he nearly has the royal couple themselves eating out the palm of his hand. It's a insult to all their Brotherhood had stood for.

So the lion devises a plan to revive his two trapped brothers, and separate Wukong and his cub from the others so that they can have a talk about what has happened since the war.

This certainly wont turn into a political kidnapping now will it? (Doubt)

[salvidida]

Everything about Scar's treatment in Brotherhood sucks so bad, but there was something specific that has been bothering me for awhile. I hadn't been able to quite put my finger on what it was since watching FMAB for the first time recently (as a lifelong 03 fan). So I rewatched FMA 03 again and it finally clicked what it was that further upsets me about Brotherhood regarding Scar, besides the more obvious imperialist propaganda and racism:

The Elric's relationship to him.

Now obviously Ed's racism towards Scar in Brotherhood is pointed out frequently enough, but it doesn't stop there. It's the way that Brohood Ed is incapable and fully resistant to ever bridging that gap besides a deeply uneasy allyship-of-convenience. Al is also fully distant from Scar, besides their mutual antagonism in the earlier arc. And nothing more is really explored here between these characters.

And I didn't realize how much I valued the way 03's Scar, Ed, and Al contrast, overlap, mirror, battle, and support one another. Their fates and goals are inseparable. Alchemy's impact on the Elrics' lives is reflected with Scar's life and his brother's, as well as their familial relationship to their own brothers; many point out the similarities between 03 Scar and Al, with some noting how Ed and Scar's brother match each other. And the way the Elrics here are more able to engage with the harsh realities that inform Scar's choices and actions versus that of their place as Amestrians, and for Ed as an active member of the military who, despite wanting to cling to his principle of never taking a life, at times can see Scar's point of view and even, with reticence, sympathize with him (Al even more so).

There are layers to the relationship across these three characters. The tension and humanity that arises is a driving force in revealing the dialectics of this show. It's to the point that Al and even at times Ed defend Scar when talking with other characters towards the end of the show, and they even ultimately owe their lives to him (the philosopher stone and grand arcanum that allowed both Ed and Al to live, and for Al to regain his body). And the bond between the Elrics help Scar to forgive his brother, to speak aloud that he loves him in his final moments, before triumphantly accomplishing his goal against the Amestrian military, saving the remaining Liorans, and saving Al from becoming Kimbly's final bomb.

And there are other moments, such as Scar helping Al in Lab 5, telling him he sees his unmistakable humanity after Al helps him save Ishbalan refugees. Scar attempting to help Ed in Lab 5 after he refuses to sacrifice the prisoners for the Philosopher Stone, because he sees the humanity in Ed too, the humanity that can resist merely being a ruthless military dog and scientist. The way Scar treats Al almost like a little brother of his own, and when he mentions that Ed and his older brother share the same kind eyes- said at a time when Scar still harbours ill feelings for his brother's taboos and his sacrifice; which becomes all the more poignant when he forgives his brother before creating a Stone passed down to the Elrics. Scar mentions having sworn off specifically targetting state alchemists post-Lab 5, and this feels like his way of sparing the Elrics of his wrath, even as he holds fast to fighting against an oppressive system with necessary violence. The material here is rich for analysis and appreciation! It doesn't settle on more digestible, black-and-white character archetypes and plot conveniences.

There's a reason why the final outro for 03, where it flashes across four deceased characters who mattered to the Elrics, includes Scar. The man is in the ranks of Trisha, Nina, and Hughes! This isn't a mistake, the writers are intentionally showing the indelible impacts of these people who they cared about.

But with FMAB, it's exceptionally flat here and entirely derogatory. Ed hates Scar, and the narrative treats him as wholly right to do so. Scar needs to repent and reform to the side of his genociders, and never shall these characters interact or converse beyond putting a stop to Father. Scar was nothing more than a vehicle to reach his murdered brother's alchemic research, and an example to be made of any radical who so much as raises a finger against the State. All three of these characters want nothing to do with each other, and that's about as far as we get with them. In Scar's own words, he's nothing more than the 'ooze' (the poison) that arises from military conquest, and by the end of the show it's clear that, even with Scar saving the entire country that destroyed his life, to the Elrics, he will always be that 'ooze'.

In Brotherhood Scar committed what the Elrics clearly considers to be the ultimate sin: he killed Winry's parents, and no matter the circumstances surrounding that event, no matter what else changes, no matter which mass murderers, monsters, and genociders the Elrics can sympathize with, humanize, befriend, and forgive, Scar will never be anything more than an unforgivable murderer. The best everyone gets here is moving on and living seperate lives. Nothing more.

The fact that Ed openly wishes he could beat the shit out of Scar, he verbalizes as such while Winry patches him up and Miles lectures him about the value of reforming the military regime to include more racialized people for its imperialist complex. And the big mercy Ed in this moment offers to Scar is... Not kicking the shit out of him after all.

The juxtaposition between these adaptations, the cold hatred of FMAB versus the entangled, poetic antagonism and comradery of FMA 03 makes experiencing the former anime so depressing. Until watching Broho it never dawned on me just how much I truly appreciated the complexities between Scar and the Elrics in 03. Finding Scar's Earth counterpart at the end of Shambala wasn't just a fun cameo: it feels like a road that leads back to an ally.

At least now I have something I can more consciously enjoy whenever I revisit 03, while articulating yet another reason why I can't stand Broho.

[caelanglang]

Who are your fav skk fanfic writers and why? Do you have their works that you love the most that you don't mind sharing here? 💘

this... this is such a hard question, *brings out a whole safe of records* /j (no srsly it's gonna be a long read--)

Here are a list of authors i really like :3 Their ao3 links/handles are:

the_most_happy: love how emotional their work can be! they have smut and fluff works, and most of all—which i think the the most delicious one, is the way they write angst <3 I actually made a bunch of fanart for their fics/aus when I was just getting into the fandom :3 They're writing is like going into a spicy sexy emotinal adventure... idk how else to describe it xD my fav fic of theirs... augh so hard to choose... In Loving Memory caught me so off guard (cuz i forgot to read the tags and immediately dived into it the moment i saw their post about it hhhh)

forest_racoon: The fluff and softness and magic in their writing is so good! I love the energy and comedy and seriousness and everything in their writing! it's always so fun to pick up any of their works~ Don't be tricked tho,, the angst they deliver have the same gravity ToT it's just so... augh... I first found them through Plate :( and have reread it several times (please check out their other works too it's all so amazing!!)

devilrin: love how she writes. period. the emotions and the poetic energy of it?? the angst?? so. good. the skk energy in their writing is more mellow(?) it feels more realistic—it's like watching people instead of characters ;w; (very cool how she world builds an entire life outside of her fic for her characters actually, got to witness the behind the scenes first hand myself its pretty insane to me) The fic that ruined me tho is Down to a Sunless Sea (which is so angsty im so--)

themadtree: The energy in their writing is just so amazing. it's very hard to stop mid-way! The dialogue feels very fun and engaging and you really get very attached to the characters because of how energetic and full of life they are. Whimsical is the best word I can think of to describe the reading experience of their work :3 They made a bunch of fun aus; their brain is just so amazing (pirate au and avatar au like broooooo) My favorite is Mors Vincit Omnia (yummy pirate au!)

StarshipDancer: one of the first ao3 writers whose name i decided to remember by heart (which means a lot considering how bad i am with names) because they are my most searched user in ao3 xD The fluff is just so addicting. The sillies and shenanegans are so on point for me, idk it just scratch this itch so perfectly in my brain. I draw a of inspiration from my skk sketches from their works actually :3!! READ EVERYTHING THEY HAVE PLS ITS ALL SO GOOD (you should check the fluff week collection augh) Without Words is one of my most reread ones... I think... I reread a lot of their works tho...

setosdarkness: let's be honest. i think everyone whose dived into ao3 skk just knows her alreayd xD she's such a kween for that, making sure we are so well fed with so much fun skk writing. Her works are so fun to read! Very comedic and has such similar energy to the gag moments and bickering and shenanigans of the anime skk for me idk why. I love how fun and unique each fic scenarios are :3 (no srsly you'll never run out of food made with so much love by athina-san)

xLillyle: I am working with Lilly for a Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood skk au!! (its Royai skk BUT it's also beast!skk) it's been so exciting to work with her :3!! You can check some of the teasers here. She made an iwaoi!skk fic recently so if that's you're type hehe *starts bawling*

there are lots of other amazing authors there but these are the ones that came to mind and i am most familiar with for now :3 Here are some other fics ~~

When I Awake: Ghost(?) Writer Dazai and Musician Chuuya. yummy angst. silly skk

castle out of couches: My favorite domestic fluff skk. it's my must read. Halfbloom is such a master of the fluff in comedic tone and capturing that skk domestic softness idk how they do it. it's just so good.

In One of the Stars I shall be Living: A sweetheart wrote a fic about my little prince skk au TT it's so well written and I am so in love with all the references and angst ueueue

Five Steps: My favorite skk knight x prince au TT

The Best Worst Thing: Another sweetheart wrote a fic based on my silly sketches ;w; it's so cute waaaaaa

okay. i am. so sorry for the long answer. I just love a lot of stuffs from these incredible writers. feel free to drop by again :3 these are the ones that comes to my mind first so i may have missed out on a bunch oop

[wpmorse]

One of my side projects is a ASOIAF/Discworld crossover. The main premise is, due to the events of A Thief of Time and Night's Watch, Ankh-Morpork and the surrounding  is transported to Westeros roughly replacing Saltpans, approximately when Robert and the court are heading north to Winterfell. Due to their location, Ankh Morpork is forced to become part of the war of Five Kings out of self defense. Due to Ankh Morpork having a different flavor of narativium, a 300+ year technological edge and... wizards, I expected things to be interesting.

For the most part this hasn't gone anywhere beyond me throwing ideas at the wall when I'm inspired. One of the bits I enjoyed the most was a scene with Arya and Rincewind after Rincewind accidentally saves her from the Brotherhood Without Banners and the Hound. It appeals to me for two reasons. The first is because so many fans go on about all of Arya's cool teachers, it appealed to me that she get one with a notably different philosophy than the others. The second is, as any Discworld fan can tell you, sticking Rincewind with someone gung-ho and heroic is comedy gold.

I'm afraid I rushed this scene too much, but it could be worse. Recently I've started to base my vision of Rincewind on Neil from the Young Ones mainly because Nigel Planer uses the voice for him in the audiobooks.

Anyway, here's the scene.

* * *

They had been walking through the forest for the entire day. They’d kept away from trails and didn’t see anyone. Still, Arya wasn’t sure if they were getting anywhere at all. All of the moss on the trees faced north, but she was sure she had seen several of the trees they had passed before, and then before that.

“Are we there yet?“ She asked again.

Her companion stopped and gave a loud exasperated sigh. He turned slowly and stared down at her. Arya stared back until he looked away. "Calm as still water," she thought to herself, smugly.

He was a tall skinny man with a thin, scraggly, beard. When she first met him, two days ago, she thought she had run into another red priest, like Thoros, in his faded red robe. But Thoros didn’t wear a strange pointed, wide-brimmed hat which looked even more threadbare than his robes, with the word “ WIZZARD” sewn in large faded letters. It made him look more like a mummer. Or at least a mummer who had been lost in the woods for many years.

He frowned. "How the gods should I know?" He asked.

Arya could not believe what she heard. “We're lost, aren’t we?” she said.

“ We are not!” He shouted.

“Then where are we going?” Arya demanded.

The man shrugged and started walking. “I don’t know about this ‘we’ business, but I’m going away from here,” he said pointing at the ground.

“That’s stupid!“ she shouted.

“No, it’s not. It’s away from danger!” He shouted back.

“And what if we just end up in more danger?” Arya asked.

The man turned again looking down at her with an infuriatingly knowing smile.”When we find it, we can run away from it too" he explained.

Aria wanted to punch him but she stopped herself as an idea struck her. “If we’re not going anywhere, can we go to Riverrun?” She asked.

"What’s in Riverrun?“ He asked.

“My…“ Arya paused. She wasn’t sure if she should tell him about her mother and Robb. She hadn’t told him her name yet and had gone back to calling herself Weasel, for fear of giving herself away once again. She didn’t think he would try to hold her for ransom, as the Brotherhood had planned, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

“The Warden of the Riverlands and the king in the North,“ she said

The man gave her a crooked look. "So… There’s an army there?“ He asked

"Oh yes, lots,“ she said, excited.

The man shrugged. "Well then,“ he said, "Let's keep away from there. You don't want to mess with armies. Too much of a chance they'll try to kill you.“

Arya couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You're craven!" She shouted.

"I am not! Craving only leads to more trouble! I don’t crave anything'.  He paused, remembering something. “Well, except for boredom, that is, and," he sighed wistfully, “ potatoes."

“What’s a potato?“ Arya asked.

The man gave her a pained look. He turned and looked up at the sky and said something under his breath. Arya couldn’t quite make it out, but it sounded like whimpering. “ Look, no one's asking you to follow me, “ he said, changing the subject. “ If you don’ t like where we’ re going, you can leave anytime you want."

Arya said nothing. She didn’t know why she was following the man, ever since she had run straight into him escaping from the Brotherhood, but he had got her past the Brotherhood's outer guard and, she shuddered, the Hound, and so far they avoided any other people out to get her. She was safe around him, even if she found his whining annoying.

She hadn’t asked him his name yet. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to get close to anyone, after losing Gendry, Hot Pie, Syro and... her father. Still, she should try to learn as much as she could about him. “Is a wizzard anything like a hedge wizard?” She asked.

He looked at her surprised. “You’re the first person who’s known how to read since I’ve arrived in this gods forsaken mud hole,” he said.

Arya gulped realizing she’d given away an advantage. "Well, is it?“ She asked. The wizard drew himself to his full lanky height. “Oh no, we wizards are something much better. We look into the higher magics.”

“Can you show me some?“ Arya asked.

The wizard coughed. “Not right now.“ He said. “My powers can’t be wasted on simple parlor tricks, especially when we might need them for something serious later. "

Arya said nothing. Let him keep his stupid secrets she didn’t need him.