#but as of right now i still have a lot of free time and there is a 20 hour journey in my future

[alchemistc]

The voice echoes. He's coming in and out of it, desperate to open his eyes, desperate to make sure he can actually feel all his fingers and toes, but it's hard.

He knows that voice though. He knows he does.

The building hadn't been as stable as they thought it was. Probably in the investigation later on they'll discover building codes not up to standard, faulty evacuation plans. He got the kid out, though. He knows he got the kid out.

Eddie too, he's pretty sure.

".. uck!" The voice yells. It's kind of funny, he thinks to himself, as he can feel the strings of consciousness slipping, how much his name sounds like a curse when you're having a hard time keeping things straight. And then everything fades to black.

---

---

"Buck, please. Just wake up."

He wants to, is the thing. It's not like he's not trying, he wants to tell the voice, wants to be a little petulant about it too. That feels like the right attitude to have, for some reason.

It's hard to breathe. Might be something has him pinned. He'd seen beams falling, he's pretty sure.

"Goddamnit!" the voice yells, and Buck strains to remember. "I can't move this fucking thing unless you're able to get out from under it on your own, so wake the hell up. C'mon. Give me something to work with."

Buck wiggles a toe. Fucking ow.

Fingers, next, and that - that's a whole new ballgame of pain, but holy shit he can feel it all. Jesus Christ it hurts.

"For fucks sake, Evan, I'll take anything, at this point. Please."

Buck's lips suddenly feel a lot less numb. He does know that voice.

Hasn't heard it in three weeks, except for on the voicemail he'd left three months ago complaining about downtown parking for the hundredth time and letting Buck know he was gonna circle the block again, but -

"T- Tommy?"

Buck blinks his eyes open just in time to see Tommy drop to his knees near Buck's head, a relief filled sob echoing around the space. Buck takes the opportunity to stare.

"Hey," Tommy says, breathless, the corners of his eyes wet, his turnouts fully covered in dusty debris. It's an achingly familiar sight, even if he's significantly less sooty than the last time.

"You swear a lot more on the job," Buck notes, and Tommy bites out a desperate laugh, slipping a hand from a glove to reach for Buck's cheek.

"How are you feeling?" Tommy asks, and Buck crinkles his nose, widens his eyes. He laughs again, and Buck - God Buck has missed this but he's still having trouble taking in a full breath and - Tommy pulls a hand away from Buck's neck. "Your pulse is steady. Elevated, but you should be - can you wiggle fingers and toes?'

"Hurts like hell, but yeah."

"Well. A building just fell on you. So that tracks."

Buck takes stock of himself, even though he feels goddamn miserable taking his eyes away from Tommy.

Sure enough, there's a beam barred low across his chest. Definitely at least bruised ribs, if not broken ones. He can't see much over it, but it feels like he's got full, painful movement in his legs. "Tommy, I think my halligan's pinned with me."

He snorts. There's nothing funny about this, but Buck finds himself snorting back, the two of them bouncing off each other until Buck eventually winces at the pressure and Tommy gets himself under control. He's fully crying now, wet fat tears streaked through the dust on his face. "Thank fuck I am also a firefighter," Tommy says, and Buck prepares himself for the moment Tommy gets the tool under the beam at the right angle to lift. "How's your pain?" Tommy asks, when he's situated.

"On a scale from ladder pinning my ankle to lightning strike?"

Tommy scowls.

"I'll be able to move if you make room. If that's what you're asking."

Tommy eyes the space. The beam. The settling dust and the only real angle he's got with enough leverage to make space for Buck to slide himself free. He won't be able to help Buck pull himself out. "The moment you have an inch you move backward as fast as you can. There's at least two yards of clearance behind you, and I'm not dropping this thing on your fucking head by accident."

Buck nods.

Tommy grabs his chin. "Verbal confirmation, Evan," he demands, suddenly so serious Buck has to swallow back a bratty retort.

"One inch, pull myself backwards."

Tommy nods. Situates his hands. "Good." And then before Buck can brace for the pain he's lifting the beam.

It's fast. So fast Buck doesn't have time to scream, or listen to the signals from his brain telling him he's fucking dying. Tommy lifts, Buck scrambles, and he has just enough room to clear his legs before rubble shifts to their left and Tommy's dropping the halligan to roll his entire body over Buck's.

A few broken pieces of concrete roll to a stop before they reach the two of them, and Buck beams up at Tommy. "Little bit of an overreaction, don't you think?"

Tommy settles his weight. Tips his chin so that he can see Buck beyond his visor. "I feel like maybe you aren't taking this as seriously as you should."

Buck shoves a shoulder against Tommy's weight, and he rolls right off, lays side to side with Buck while they both catch their breath. It's such a fucking familiar position that Buck fails to stifle a laugh.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, when he's calmed down enough that Tommy has stopped asking him concussion protocol questions.

Tommy sighs. Turns to his side, and Buck knows this position, too. They never did it in turnouts, though. "They grounded us an hour before the collapse."

"I heard," Buck presses. "I also heard the 217 was working fire suppression on the perimeter."

Tommy looks guilty. He rolls his neck, reaches out under the guise of checking Buck's pulse again.

Buck doesn't stop him.

"Yeah I might be fired," he says, and then shrugs a shoulder. "They called for full evac and when Eddie came out with that kid but you didn't -."

Buck feels a little breathless again. He almost asks Tommy how much he's got in his tank - Bucks's ran out a while ago. But they seem - pretty firmly trapped. Buck can't see an exit point, and he's almost positive there's not enough room for both of them to stand at the same time. They'll need that oxygen. "You came after me?"

Tommy sighs. Seems satisfied that Buck's heart is still doing what it's supposed to, and that he's not leaking internally. When he shifts his hand, it's not away - callused hands catch the underside of Buck's chin, fingers curl over his cheek. "I'd tell you not to read into it, but..."

Buck's breath catches. He holds it. There's - he has no idea how much air they have. They don't have time (or enough air, maybe) for Buck to lean up and kiss him. "Tommy."

"We'll talk about it when we're both safely out of here and bundled in our shiny blankets. If the 118 doesn't kill me first."

"What...?" Buck doesn't know what that means. They did everything they could to convince him not to reach out but they also weren't, like, calling for his head. He wants to know what it means. Tommy's brow goes up.

He shifts to his knees, holds out a hand. "Help me look around. See if we can find an air pocket."

He helps Buck to a kneel of his own like it's nothing, and despite the creaks and groans and the sting of sore muscles, Buck doesn't think there's anything permanently damaged. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It'll keep, Evan."

More than anything, Buck wants to call him out on that. The implication that Tommy knows more about the 118's current feelings on Tommy than Buck does. His name, suddenly back in play like Tommy hadn't used the lack of it to dig the knife in.

Buck shifts his weight and checks for his flashlight. Aims up, first, as high as the beam of light will go. There's really not much room in this little pocket of space.

He can hear Tommy shifting on his knees behind him. They need to be smart. Conserve air, conserve energy. Buck had been near a sidewall when the building came down, but who knows how long it'll take for the building to be stable enough to attempt a rescue. Maybe they're still gonna die in here, after all.

God, he doesn't want Tommy to die.

"Back to Evan, I noticed," Buck comments, doing a terrible job of not sounding eager, and he can hear the heaving breath Tommy takes, the way the shift of his body just pauses.

"The thing is, the moment I realized I might not have any more time, all I wanted was another five minutes. Just to hear you breathe. See your face. You wouldn't even have to know I'd done it, just -." He sucks a breath in through his nose. "I just realized the pain is still worth it."

That spurs Buck into action, because - because they're not gonna die - not here, not now, not for as many years as Buck can squeeze out of this life. He shifts. He pokes. He checks for light beyond the pockets between rubble. He takes even, measured breaths around the rapidly tightening muscles around his ribs and the moment he feels a draft he almost cries.

"Tommy!"

He turns to catch his eye, thrilled, ready to drag him over and -

"Tommy?"

He's slumped on his side. And - and god damnit, Buck is so fucking stupid, he should have checked Tommy too, should have known if he was hurt he'd hide it like the massive asshole he is.

There's nothing obvious until Buck pulls at his turnouts, and then he has to hold in a scream so he doesn't bring the rest of the place down on them.

---

---

The paramedics don't fight him when he shoves his way into the ambulance behind them. No one does, not as he's shoving Hen and Chim away from him while they desperately try to check his vitals, not when Eddie takes one look at the rebar sticking through Tommy's side and his face goes fucking white.

He crashes twice on the way to the hospital.

---

---

Buck comes to slowly, and is immediately pissed, because he's in a fucking hospital bed.

Eddie leans over him when he sits up. "Take a second, man."

"Did you drug me?"

The eyebrow raise is a little condescending. "You passed the fuck out in the middle of the waiting room when they told us Tommy's surgery went well."

Well that's - that's - oh God, Tommy's okay. He remembers now. Tommy pulled through. Tommy was out of surgery and they were setting him up in a room and it'd be a while before he woke up but he was -

"I wanna see him."

Eddie chuckles, and Buck seriously considers throwing something at him, but before he can find something to toss Eddie's leaning sideways in his seat to pull the curtain divider away. "Even the nurses were taking bets that you'd kill a man if they put you in separate rooms."

He'll have to thank Gina later.

Tommy's still asleep. In repose, he breathes deep and even, eyes fluttering behind his lids, and Buck remembers what an active fucking sleeper he is, how much it had infuriated him that Tommy could never remember his dreams. God.

He's bruised around the eyes, there's a clean shave on the side of his head where he'd taken falling rubble in his mad dash past the kid Buck had sent ahead of him. The hospital gown looks so stupid on him.

Buck glares when Eddie tries to wrangle him back under his thin blanket - swings his legs over the side and tries not to wince when he puts his weight down and feels exactly how fucked up his ribs are. The bindings are tight. He's gonna need help rewrapping them.

"Tommy said something about you guys wanting to kill him. Know anything about that?"

It's a little accusatory. A lot, actually. Eddie sighs. "He tried to bring your shit by the station a week later when he knew you were off shift. Chim and Hen weren't, uh ... particularly nice about it."

Buck blinks. He still hasn't gotten any of that back.

"So he just ...took it back? Didn't leave it behind?"

"Oh he took about fifteen minutes of having his head bit off and then grabbed the box and shoved it back in his bed before he left."

Despite how absolutely ridiculous that all sounds, it makes something sizzle under his skin. If it was all just adrenaline, all just heat of the moment panic, Tommy would have left that box anyway.

They know so much and still so little about each other.

He's pretty sure he might actually get the chance to know more now. Even if he has to pry it from Tommy piece by piece for another decade or five.

Buck shoves that thought right down and gives himself the next two days to think about.

"And what'd you do, while they were berating him?"

"Oh, I threw like three loaves of bread in there with your stuff while he wasn't looking."

"You gave him my moping bread?"

"Two of the sourdoughs and an Irish soda bread."

"What if he didn't open the box back up?"

Eddie shrugs. "I hedged my bets. Either he opened that box back up to do his own moping or eventually there'd be some moldy ass bread in there."

"I hate raisins, by the way," comes the croaky voice to Buck's left, and Buck doesn't hesitate to wheel his saline bag the extra foot to reach the bedside. Buck knows that already. He'd made the soda bread out of spite, at three in the morning when he realized the second pillow still smelled like Tommy's shampoo and he'd remembered the almost-argument they'd had about wet hair on the pillows.

Tommy's hand meets Buck's halfway, and his smile is tired and magnificent.

Eddie smirks. "So you opened the box, then."

Tommy doesn't look away from Buck. His fingers squeeze. "I opened the box."

"Eddie, I need you to go distract Gina for like, three and a half minutes."

"...I know I'm going to regret asking," Eddie says.

"Tommy's hooked up to a bunch of monitors that are gonna make some extra noise in a second here, and they've already seen us making out in this hospital, they don't need to be alerted to another free show."

Eddie's out of his seat immediately, and halfway out the door when he turns back. "Just so we're all on the same page, this is not me encouraging this. You two are just walking talking piles of trauma and you can't just kiss about it and suddenly everything is fine."

Buck can taste the bitchy comment on the tip of Tommy's tongue. He squeezes Tommy's fingers and counts himself lucky when all Tommy does is make a dismissive noise in the back of his throat.

It's not like Eddie's wrong.

The door clicks shut behind him.

---

---

Tommy sets aside a third jello cup and stares at the cards in his hand. He glances through his lashes as he sets two cards down on the pile. "Two sevens."

"Bullshit."

His eyes gleam with challenge as he flips them both over and Buck has to take another loss. He doesn't care, is the thing. He'll happily lose at cards to Tommy for the next -

Six months is a reasonable length of time, probably. They've hit that mark once before.

Tommy shifts his weight, grimaces, and Buck is on his feet in a heartbeat. "You need another pillow? Change the angle of the bed?"

He laughs, soft and warm, rolls his eyes. "That joke I made about you guys needing your own ward? You may not have it named after you, but it's practically the Ritz around here. All the nurses have come by like six times just to see if I needed my pillow fluffed. I'm good, Evan." Buck settles back into his seat. "I just have a hole the size of a boba straw in my side."

"It was significantly wider than a boba straw."

"Could still suck a tapioca pearl through it," Tommy reminds him, almost petulantly. It's been a treat discovering that Tommy can throw it back almost as well as Buck when he's ornery about being bedridden for a full two days.

Buck finishes rearranging his cards. Grabs three random ones and sets them atop the pile. "Three eights."

Tommy stares at his cards. Glances up at Buck. Turns his gaze to his cards one more time.

"One nine," he declares, and Buck doesn't even complain that he'd fully let him off the hook there.

---

---

Tommy is actually the worst patient in the world. They have to have Eddie over to wrap Buck's ribs for at least a week, and Tommy refused to take any pain meds home with him, and every morning when Buck fusses with the dressings on Tommy's side Tommy stares in the mirror and complains that the scar isn't even symmetrical to the one on his ribs. Buck spends twenty minutes reminding him he'd have a punctured lung, if that was the case, and that seems to shut him up for a little while, at least.

"Hey," Tommy says, on day eleven, when Buck leans over him on the sofa to say goodbye and head back to the loft. Tommy's fine, really. He needs rest and leaving for the night isn't going to kill either one of them. Still, he tugs at Buck's belt loops until Buck allows a knee to bend and press into the cushion beside him. "This is not me asking you to move in with me."

"What -?"

Tommy presses something into his hand. It's warm, like Tommy's been smoothing it in his palm for a while, grooved along the edge facing Buck's fingers. "Yet," he says, softer than before, watching Buck palm it with a smile that Buck is beginning to fully understand the implications of.

It's a key.

Buck blinks. The years stretch ahead of him. Grumpy grizzled Tommy bitching about the towel rack having too many wet towels on it. Silver fox Tommy grinning over some flirty kids head at Buck as he tries to make it back to the booth they got to the bar early to camp at. Tommy, tomorrow, fondly annoyed when Buck confesses he can't watch another true crime documentary or it'll actually kill him.

"I love you," Buck blurts, and feels like crying when Tommy tugs him close for a kiss.

[subcultureblues]

Don’t You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 1

Steve and Eddie have been hooking up and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)

———

“For the record, I still think this is dumb.” Lucas said over the wind.

“Yeah, well, you’re dumb.” Mike said, sharp witted as always.

“Got you there.” Will grinned, sidling up beside him on his bike. Mike shot him a look, vaguely betrayed. Will shrugged innocently and kept peddling.

“Alright, alright, let the court record reflect you’re both morons.” Dustin sighed, peddling between the bickerer’s bikes and cutting ahead.

All four boys skirted to a stop outside the trailer park. Dustin wiped at his forehead under his cap, the humidity creeping back up on them as soon as the air stopped it’s rushing by.

“Dude, if Eddie wasn’t picking up the phone, well, there’s probably a reason for that.” Lucas said, in that tone of his. The demeaning one.

Dustin just shook his head. Name one good reason to ignore your party? One good reason. Dustin certainly couldn’t!

He started walking his bike up through the dusty lot, leaving the rest with little choice but to march ever onward.

“Maybe he’s still sleeping.” Will said, lingering a bit behind the pack.

“At 1 in the afternoon?” Lucas rolled his eyes.

“What? He does, like,” Mike’s voice dropped to a paranoid whisper. “weed, right? Jonathan’s always sleeping in?” Mike looked behind them at Will, who shrugged.

“Eddie,” Dustin said his name rather uncharitably but he’s at his limit here, really, he is “has been dodgy weeks now. Doesn’t answer the phone, he’s never free on the weekend, never hangs out after Hellfire anymore - I’m telling you guys, somethings up.”

“Or maybe - he’s finally graduated after the third try and he’s tired of hanging around high schoolers all the time.” Lucas rolled his eyes.

Dustin shook his head at Lucas, because that can’t be it. Eddie loves them. Well, he loves Dustin and likes the rest of Hellfire’s fresh meat well enough. They bonded, alright? - after everything they went through in the Upside Down. Hell, they’re practically brothers. And it’s not just Dustin who thinks that, Eddie had said it first. Well, he called him ‘the little brother I never wanted’ but had said so sarcastically. Obviously, he’d meant the opposite.

Hard to feel wanted right now though, considering as of circa maybe a month ago, Eddie’s been MIA. He still shows up to Hellfire, obviously. But that was about it.

After stopping the clock on the apocalypse and banding together to clear Eddie’s good name, it kind of become a thing - Eddie taking them out to get slushies after a game. Calling up Eddie to tell him, not ask, but tell him they were all going to the arcade. He’d even gone to Eddie’s trailer a few times so he could help Dustin homebrew his subclass!

Steve had started tagging along too, usually. Him and Eddie even getting started to get less awkward around each other after a while. Not best friends or anything, Not like Dustin was hoping. But friendly. It had been totally awesome! And totally annoying that he had mysteriously gone to ground.

It’s possible Dustin’s being, well he doesn’t want to say needy...

It’s just, Steve started picking up extra shifts at work and spending a whole lot of time with Robin. Not that Dustin didn’t support their relationship. Steve’s been single so long, it hadn’t started verging on pathetic exactly, but it was a near thing.

It’s just hard for a guy not to feel neglected.

The four boys had almost reached the trailer when they heard it. At first Dustin dismissed it, surely the trailer next doors’ doing. But no, that music definitely coming from Eddie’s.

That in and of itself, wouldn’t be unusual. Eddie is likely the loudest human being on the planet. No, the weird part is it’s not thrashy, garbage can lid, Eddie-music but goddamn…

“Is that - “ Mike said, trailing off from sheer befuddlement.

“Culture Club.” Lucas could barely hide the cackle in his voice.

“What in the -“ Dustin muttered, throwing his bike in the grass and wandering up to the door like it was a gate to another dimension. For all he knows, it might just be.

“Eddie?” He knocked on the door. Nothing. He tried again. Obviously, someone’s home.

Dustin’s only met the man briefly but he didn’t take Munson Sr for being the bubblegum pop type.

Besides, Mr. Munson certainly wouldn’t be playing anything this loud unless those late nights at the plant had him going deaf. Dustin peeked through the window into the living room. More nothing.

“Oh man.” Lucas shoved him to press his face against the glass too. There was a slow smile creeping across his face, like he was suddenly overjoyed they had come to the trailer park after all. Lucas wasn’t gonna let their DM live this one down, not any time soon. “I thought he was supposed to be cool.”

“He is cool.” Mike said.

Dustin just sighed, threw his hands up, and started rounding the corner of the RV. Eddie’s van was here, ergo Eddie. Dustin was sure he’d be lurking around here somewhere. The rest of the boys followed, their previous hesitation now nowhere to be seen.

“Come on.” He gestured towards the window. They all leaned in and Dustin was already furiously rapping on the window. “Ed - “

Dustin’s eyes went wide. And maybe his face a bit pink.

Eddie was here alright.

He was laying in bed. Very much not alone. There were two of them, lying in bed together. They were under the covers but Eddie was sprawled out on top of someone, a thick curtain of hair hanging over both faces. Clearly, ew, kissing, based on, and Dustin might be scarred for life here, a hand gripping Eddie’s hair at the base of his neck.

As for the tunes, the obvious culprit was in the corner of the room. Eddie’s little cassette stereo.

“Eddie?” Dustin blanched before he could stop himself. And it was of course, in that exact moment Culture Club decided to betray them and the tape cut out.

Will went to shush him, grabbing his shoulder to drag him away but oh no, Eddie definitely heard something. The guy squawked and jolted up in bed, swooping the covers up to hide them both in their immodesty. Eddie’s eyes peaked over his elbow like a vampire leering over his cloak. He gaped at the window, clearly rather horrified.

The boys all threw themselves out of the frame, Dustin pressing up against the back of the trailer.

“What the fuck - “ he heard Eddie say. “What the fuck.” He sounded almost angry but closer to panicked. There was a vague whispering match, but whispering was never really Eddie’s strong suit, so they heard him just fine.

“Relax.” Eddie said, though he did not himself sound relaxed. “No, it’s fine. We’re cool. You need to - I need you cool right now.”

They heard something like a grown man crashing off the bed and gracelessly hit the floor.

“I know, I know, I know. I know! Christ, I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t - I’ll deal with it. Just - “

The boys were already turning tail and scurrying back to their bikes. Gone entirely red in the face.

“I told you this was a bad idea.” Mike said, the hypocrite bastard.

“No you did not!” Dustin huffed.

The front door swung open with a bang and Eddie came spilling out towards them as he, oh gross, scrambled to get into his jeans. He was still shirtless and sweaty, hair fluffed up like an angry cat. Looking rather frantic.

“It’s not what it looks like!” He actually looked properly pissed, hands shaking with it as he did up his fly.

“We didn’t see anything.” Lucas put his hands up, but the guilty way he refused to meet Eddie’s eyes kind of gave up the game.

“Nothing!” Will squeaked, beet red and squeezing his eyes closed tight. Just in case they hadn’t made themselves look incriminating enough.

“God, of all the shit fucking timing -“ Eddie’s fist clenched up in front of him and he let out a frustrated noise, eyes darting around the trailer park. “Look I can explain. If you just, ergh, give me a minute to think of something.”

“No need! We didn’t see anything, promise.” Mike assured him again, his voice nearly steady. Good for him.

“Right so. I guess, did I mention I’ve take up recently taken up semi pro Grecian wrestling - “

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Dustin couldn’t help interrupting him. Lucas smacked him. He gave Lucas a face, which was returned, so Dustin did it again even harder. But fuck Lucas cause it may have been the right thing to say. Eddie stopped fluttering, looked right at him. Squinted, scanning his face.

“You know you can just tell us. If you did. You could have just told us in the first place.” Dustin didn’t get why Eddie wouldn’t. Did Eddie think this kind of thing was too ‘grown up’ for them. They were high school freshman for Christ sake! The only one of their little crew who didn’t have a girlfriend was Will. And I guess Steve.

Allegedly.

Of course, Dustin didn’t believe that for a second.

“I - what?” Eddie perked up.

“If you had a girlfriend. Do you? Is that - “

Eddie huffed out a hysterical laugh. It was weird. But then, Eddie wasn’t exactly the poster child for Normal. Dustin crossed his arms.

“Sure. Yeah.” He took a big breath as he looked behind him back into the trailer. “I have a... my girlfriend.”

“Sorry. For coming over.” Will said, timid like a mouse.

“It was Dustin’s idea.” He took Mike for many things but never a rat. Dustin sputtered indignantly, throwing up his hands.

“And we didn’t even see anything, really! So if you’re worried about your girlfriend’s modesty, like - we didn’t see anything, we swear! Right guys?.” Lucas insisted. Mike and Will bobbleheaded in agreement.

“What the hell are you squirts doing here, anyways?” Eddie said, scrubbing roughly at his forehead.

“I needed to get my binder.” Dustin said flatly. And maybe to remind Eddie that hey, he’s still here too. Like, right here.

“Your fucking - “ Eddie said in disbelief, and then he laughed. “Your binder.”

“You weren’t answering the phone.”

“Yeah well I was busy.” Eddie said, eyes wide and awfully antagonistic.

“Busy getting busy.”

Eddie turned his wild eyes on Lucas

“Thin ice, Sinclair. Thin fucking ice.”

That just made him chuckle again. At least he half tried to hide it behind his hand. But Lucas always was the least cowed by Eddie.

“Is this why you haven’t been hanging around anymore, like all month.”

“Jesus. Henderson, I’m sorry, ok? Hard as it is to believe, I do have a fucking life outside the game.” Yeah, Dustin thought, it was pretty hard to believe. “Look, just give me a second.”

“I’ll be quick - “ Dustin made a move to come inside.

“No.” Eddie firmly hip checked him out of the way.

Eddie slipped back into the trailer. Through the open door Dustin could just barely make out the words.

“False alarm. No - actually. I’m being serious. They think - “

They think what? Think they have a right to be here at Eddie’s trailer. Taking up space in Eddie’s life. Well they do. The party almost died saving the world side by side with Eddie, they had more right to be here than that - Dustin just grumbled. He wouldn’t call her a harlot. But only because Susie’s voice was already in the back of his head, admonishing the thought.

Eddie came back and pushed the binder hard into Dustin’s chest. He was stumbled back a step. “Now scram.” He said, not leaving room for Dustin to get a word in edgewise.

“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been around but I… See you at Hellfire, ok?” Eddie slammed the door in their faces.

“How great could this even chick be?” Dustin frowned. Great enough to edge the party out of Eddie’s life it seems like.

The other boys just shrugged. They all picked up their bikes.

“I mean, why can’t he just like, bring her along when we hang out or something.”

“I told you, maybe he just wants to hang out with someone his own age for once.” Lucas said.

Maybe Eddie’s too cool to bring his new girlfriend around his dorky freshmen friends. Is he embarrassed to introduce them to her or something.

“Come on.” Will said. “We should get back to Mike’s.”

“Yeah. Yeah whatever.” Dustin said.

———

“So our parents said me and Mike and Lucas could go to the arcade for an hour before it gets dark.” Dustin said to Eddie as they walked through the empty school hallway after Hellfire.

“No can do, compadre. Fight the good fight against those Space Invaders in my steed, yeah?” Eddie grinned down at him over the few boxes of mini in his hands.

Dustin huffed.

“What? Too busy hanging out with your girlfriend? Dustin said petulantly. “Just bring her along if your - “

The three most senior PC’s in Hellfire skid to a stop in front of them. Dustin and Eddie nearly walked straight into the wall of them. It was almost comical the way all their heads swiveled around to oogle at him. Jeff only just managed to choke back a chortle.

Dustin was honestly offended on Eddie’s behalf. Sure, dude was a drug dealing, super duper senior nerd/freak/metalhead combo who had been semi-recently accused of ritualistic dismemberment - but certainly someone was into that.

“My -? Oh yeah my, my - that.” Eddie winced, avoiding many, many eyes.

“Oh, and you have a girlfriend now do you?” Gareth huffed a laugh, in clear disbelief. Eddie glared daggers at him.

Dustin really didn’t see why it was that hard to believe. Eddie was like, really cool. It was an indisputable fact. If all of them could see it, why couldn’t some weird, off the wall alt girl see it too.

“I don’t want to hear a fucking word from you. Any one of you.” Pointing rapidly at all three of them, like he was warding off the words waiting right at the tip of their tongues.

“So who’s the lucky lady, Munson?” Jared said, like he had ‘held action, Vicious Mockery’ and simply couldn’t help himself. He was fighting a positively delighted smile. Eddie flushed.

“The DM giveth and the DM taketh away, and you would be very wise to remember that, Ser Elias.” Eddie said loudly, still jabbing his finger about like it made him more authoritative.

“Sorry man, just joking around.” Jeff grinned good naturedly.

“Yeah, I mean, good for you dude.” Gareth said, with a genuine smile. He tapped Eddie on the chest who childishly batted Gareth’s hand away.

“No, don’t do that. I - seriously guys, we’re not - it’s not like that. I’m not ‘dating’ anyone.” Eddie deflated, looking uncomfortable. The unflappable Eddie, looking all too flappable after all. He tucked a piece of hair behind his ear and huffed. “Just someone I’ve been screwing around with alright.”

Eddie walked past them. Dustin almost felt bad for bringing it up. Almost.

He turned to Gareth.

“So you guys don’t have any idea who it is?”

The guys looked around at each other, all of them shrugging.

“Who knows.” Jared shrugged again, this one still no more helpful than the last.

“Unless,” Gareth straight up giggles, “it’s that suburban mom Eddie’s been swooning over since sophomore year.”

“Yeah right.” Jared chuckled, shoving Gareth forward. They all continued walking.

“That… doesn’t seem like his type.” Dustin said, suddenly confused and perturbed and feeling like he doesn’t know Eddie Munson at all.

“You’d be surprised.” Jared grinned and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

They exited the school just in time to see Steve getting out of the car. Usually after Hellfire he didn’t bother. He just wanted to get the kids rounded up and out of the parking lot as quickly as he could ever really manage. Not today though. Eddie walked to Steve’s Beemer, parked in the stall next to his van.

“Munson.” He said with a small smile. He grabbed one of a few boxes of minis out of Eddie’s arms.

“Uh, Harrington.” Eddie gave a hesitant smile, before bowing his head with predictable theatrically.

“Hi, Steve.” Dustin said from behind. Steve gave him a fond nod before looking back up to the DM.

“So, uh, how was the session?” He said kind of awkwardly.

“Bordering on child abuse.” Eddie beamed.

“I got knocked out, twice.” Lucas windged, holding up two fingers.

“Whatever keeps you humble.” Steve shrugged. He turned back to Eddie. “So. Uh. Any plans for this weekend?”

Eddie blinked, then he raised his eyebrows with a haughty grin. “Dunno, had a few things in mind.” He shrugged.

“Cool. That’s cool. I did too. But uh, then my parents came home from their trip early.” Steve scratched the back of his neck. “So, you know, guess there go my plans for the weekend.”

“Huh.” Eddie frowned. “Bummer.”

“Shotgun!” Dustin decided, throwing open the passenger side door.

Mike, Lucas, and Will who also couldn’t care less about their inane small talk, were already piling into Steve’s car. Steve was lingering though, helping Eddie load his stuff into the van. Dustin’s glad they’re making an effort to be friendly acquaintances, especially since he’s pretty sure it’s mostly for his own sake. But come on, it was like, 3 small boxes. They had space invasions to thwart.

And of course, Lucas was still bitching at Dustin about his failure to come through with a healing spell.

“I’m a bard, what did you want me to do?” Dustin rolled his eyes.

“You have healing word!” Lucas said, to which Dustin roll his eyes. Again.

“Which does like, 2D-nothing!” He looked out the window, wishing Steve would hurry the hell up already. Him and Eddie were still talking? What the hell did those two even have to talk about? Eddie was giving Steve an optimistic grin, but Steve was just shaking his head.

“Cute wounds than!” Lucas groused.

“Well, then you should have thought about that before you went down thirty-five feet away.”

“You could have dashed.” Lucas crossed his arms.

“Ugh. That would have defeated the whole - ugh!” Dustin rolled the window down impatiently. “Steve is it cool if I eat in your car?“ Dustin hollered. He wasn’t actually gonna, he just knew how to get the man’s attention.

“Absolutely not! You know the rules.”

“Don’t worry, it’s just a granola bar! Nature Valley.” Dustin shouted back.

“Don’t even think about it Henderson!” Steve said, already rounding the car. Eddie laughed brightly.

“Harrington?” He said.

“I - Yeah. Fine. Fine, alright.” Steve said to which Eddie smiled triumphantly. That better mean they were done with their little pow-wow.

Eddie climbed into his own vehicle. Steve opened the Beemer’s drivers side door but he didn’t get in yet. Instead he stood there running his hand through his hair muttering something to himself.

“See ya, nerds!” Eddie called out, lowering his own window. There was a chorus of goodbyes from the Beemer. “And Harrington -“ He started the van and a blast of guitar poured out. He smiled that Eddie smile. “You worry too much.” He said. And then he swept out of the parking lot with the sound of his obnoxious music on the wind.

“Yeah. Sure.” Steve said sarcastically. He got behind the wheel, Dustin’s threat of snacking seemingly forgotten.

“What was that about?”

Steve just waved him off and started the car.

Dustin eyed Steve skeptically. So what, were Steve and Eddie like, actually friends now or something?

Maybe he knows.

After a few minutes, Dustin finally broke and asked.

“Soooo, do you know who Eddie’s been seeing?”

“What?” Steve says, nearly swerving over the line.

“Jesus!” Lucas swore from the back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve chuckled awkwardly, eyes now, thankfully, firmly fixed on the road.

“Of course he’s not gonna tell Steve.” Mike grumbled.

Dustin stroked an imaginary beard. The fog of mystery only grew thicker and thicker.

“His secret girlfriend.” Mike said, like a little know it all.

Steve just huffed a, sure.

“I bet she’s like, some badass metal chick.” Mike said reverently, looking out the window. “She probably has like face piercings and crazy dyed hair. Or like a shaved head or something cool like that.”

Dustin sighed. She probably was badass. Way cooler than they were. Way too cool to bring around the dork squad.

“Does that sound like anyone you’ve seen around here?” Lucas said skeptically.

“Yeah, I dunno. Gareth said he was into like… suburban moms.” Dustin grimaced.

“Excuse me?” Steve sputtered.

Will made a disgusted noise.

“I know.” Dustin shivered.

“Better watch out for your mom then.” Lucas snickered. Dustin shot him a dirty look.

“Yeah, no way.” Mike shook his head. “He had to be messing with you or something. Eddie probably has like, groupies and stuff.”

“Please. That man has no game.” Lucas said. Steve snorted but played it off like a cough.

“That man runs the game.” Dustin said defensively.

“You know that’s not what that means.” Lucas said.

“The real question is, how long has this little dalliance been going on for?” Dustin pondered.

“Hey, you nosey little twerps. I really don’t think this is like, any of your business.”

“At least a few weeks right?” Lucas spoke up.

“And how do you know that?” Mike said.

“Cause that’s how long it’s been that Eddie’s been using the phrase ‘busy’ to get out of stuff. I mean he’s a jobless, drug peddling hobo, I don’t think I’ve seen Eddie be busy like, ever.” Lucas said, scratching his chin. “Until a few weeks ago that is.”

Dustin grinned widely. “It’s elementary, my dear Watson.”

“It’s invasive is what it is.” Steve grumbled. “Also, he’s not a hobo. He has a house.”

“Well, I guess, technically it’s a trailer.” Will said, rather pedantically.

“Well, it’s got four walls. And he lives inside them. Ergo…”

“He’s also been a lot nicer.” Will said thoughtfully.

“Huh?” Dustin and Steve said, and looked at him in unison.

“The last couple weeks, don’t you think?” Will said, smiling faintly. “He’s been nicer than usual. Or happier. I guess.”

“I guess.” Dustin said.

“You think?” Steve said.

“Okay,” Dustin should have a houndstooth cap and a pipe. “We have our timeline. Now, we need to root out suspects.”

“Alright, this, whatever this is, stops here. You nosey little twerps need to mind your own business.”

“But - “

“I don’t want to hear it. No buts.”

And that was the end of that. For now at least.

Tag List : @reading-archieves @homoerotictangerine @bingbongsupremacy @aroseandherthorns @wheneverfeasible @travelingtwentysomething @ineffable-monster-romancer @laughingphantoms @gregre369

(Stayed tuned for emotional immaturity! Reply to be added to the tag list!)

[mellosdrawings]

I'm feeling like rambling about AI on main, ignore me if it's not your cup of tea.

So a while ago, I did check out those art prompts AI, because when I pester about something, I like to know what I'm rambling about. I like to do a minimum of research and, if possible, try the thing out before making my opinion. For AI art, my opinion was already pretty solid, but I still wanted to check it out.

I found a free prompt stuff online, asked it a super easy prompt, and asked for a handful of different images. Just to see.

The prompt was [character tripping]. Really. Super easy, right? I wanted the thing to have as much liberty as possible.

It's not just that though. I chose this prompt because it is something I did in art school. Our teacher would give us simple prompts, and we would have to draw doodles in 5 minutes or less. Imagine a class of 15 exhausted art students full of caffeine being told to draw someone tripping.

The 15 art students' results? Little boys tripping over tree roots, teenage girls falling while rollskating, business men tripping on their papers and burning themselves with coffee, old ladies cracking a hip, comical falls backwards with a leg up, realistic falls forward with pained expressions, etc etc.

See, our fast doodles weren't any better than AI anatomically speaking. We were missing hands and our faces were distorted and a foot was bigger than another, things that are also common with AI. But the DIVERSITY. I remember being flabbergasted by it. We all had the same prompt, but none of us drew the same thing. I remember drawing the good old banana peel slip from the old comics I read when I was a kid. My best friend drew a kid falling in mud.

We did several prompts like that as training, and I always loved to see what everybody was doing, because it was always so different.

Now, here was the AI result: 5 anime girls in a running position at an angle, making shocked pikachu faces. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. The angle and the running poses were the only things that changed, and even then just slightly.

The AI only did 5 times the same stuff. Art style changed a bit from one to the other, but always the same vibe, always the same composition, and always that godsdamned shocked pikachu face. It was very underwhelming.

I don't care about perfect anatomy and lighting. But I care about creativity. I love seeing things that I would never have thought to do myself. And the AI didn't provide that at all. Coz AI has no creativity whatsoever. If you don't further your prompt to be very specific, it will just reheat the same bland stuff again and again. It's just boring.

I have a lot of grievances about AI. Art theft, environmental blunder, artists being paid even less than they already were (as if people and companies suggesting to pay us in visibility wasn't bad enough). But even on an emotional level there's nothing. Yes, it's great to see one's character/idea brought to life when one cannot draw. But it'll be the blandest stuff ever. That's just a shame.

[daddy-kinard]

Tommy’s a weak man. When he gets the text - I presume the full gay experience I’m supposed to be having includes hate sex and you’re the only gay man I hate right now so….door’s open - he feels a familiar rush of blood. He sent it at a time he guessed - correctly - Tommy would be free, and fuck, he knows exactly what buttons to press. Knows that Tommy isn’t actually that strong, not really, not when it comes to resisting Evan.

He sort of figured the hate part of the hate sex invitation was mainly a ruse to get Tommy back in his bed one last time. He was wrong. Evan feels a lot, feels it fully and often loudly, but the angriest Tommy ever saw him, embodying all of the frustration and injustice at the existence of the Vincent Gerrard’s of the world, is nothing, nothing, in comparison to the fiery spitting rage that’s directed at him before he’s even closed the door behind him.

“You’re a selfish prick, you know that?”

Tommy’s a little taken aback, but recovers quickly enough to shrug off his jacket, hanging it on the hook by the door out of habit.

“God, fuck you, Tommy. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

And then Evan’s on him. Their teeth clash as they meet in a hungry, claiming, kiss, bodies drawn together by the same magnetism they’ve always had.

“Such a fucking asshole.” Evan spits as they part for air, Evan’s hand trailing down to cup his already hard cock.

Tommy doesn’t give as good as he gets, he can’t. He lets Evan’s fist grip too tightly in his hair, and his teeth scrape too sharply against his lips, his throat, and he - fuck - he enjoys it. Of course he does.

He expects Evan to push him down onto the mattress, to shove a little, to fuck him, rough, the way they had only figured out they liked it sometimes when there wasn’t enough time left. Instead he shakes his head, slapping a condom into Tommy’s chest with force.

“Make me feel it, one last time, you selfish bastard.”

“Buck,” he starts, but -

“Don’t you fucking dare. Not here, not like this.” There’s still anger, but for the first time tonight, Tommy hears the vulnerability in his voice too.

[dragon-ascent]

Hey uh... *tugs at your shirt* my mother said that you can tell me about how Morax/Zhongli is mischaracterised with attributes from a western dragon and what attributes he'd actually have as an eastern dragon if it's fine with yours... (please say yes I love hearing people yap)

Tell your mother she brought you to the right place! Keep in mind I'm not the messiah of dragon mythology; but everything is nonetheless based on medium-levels of research & informal conversations with Chinese friends of mine. Still, feel free to take everything I say with a grain of salt.

Let's start with traits belonging to many Western dragons, which people tend to mistakenly attribute to Zhongli when it comes to his portrayal in fan work or even discourse:

Cruel & domineering: I see this a LOT especially with like, Morax/Rex Lapis portrayals where he's this arrogant man asserting his dominance over his nation (or even his partner!!!) in quite forceful ways, even taking human sacrifices in exchange for peace. Pls guys, he wishes not for dominion, but he cannot watch the common folk suffer. Also, there's a difference between being dominant and being domineering! Yes, he's established his dominance, but with absolutely no arrogance or cruelty.

Brutish: I know Venti seems to say that he's a blundering, brutish buffoon in his voicelines, but in CN he simply says the Geo lord is a blockhead who doesn't understand human emotion - which at the time is fair! Zhongli was still learning about the intricacies of humanity, learning while ruling. More importantly, there is no mention of him being a brute in the original line, and nothing in the in-game text pertaining to Liyue history supports the claim. So, if you see someone claim he doesn't care for humanity, kindly punt them on my behalf.

Self-centered: A pet peeve of mine, really. Although many Western dragons are seen as selfish and greedy, putting their wants above all, we see that Zhongli is the exact opposite. He puts his people before himself, always focusing on protecting the land, even if it means he will have to make choices that will hurt him, such as having to seal his close companion Azhdaha (and possibly even slaying Guizhong with his own hands, but that's another can of worms which I won't get into because canon has not touched upon this yet).

Now, there are some characteristics of Western dragons that can be applied to him since they're common traits in Eastern dragons as well:

Being unforgiving: Western ones might be more vicious in this regard, but it's mellowed into his duty as the God of Contracts. We know that there is no mercy for people who breach contracts, regardless of whether they are friend or foe. In this regard specifically, we can say that he is indeed unforgiving.

Cunning tactician: Yes! Zhongli is a master strategist, outwitting foes and coming out on top. Yes, we hear about his sheer strength warding off adversaries, but he also uses his wit to his advantage. You can read one such story of his in the teapot furnishing description for the item "Dainty Fists."

Now let me highlight some Eastern dragon traits, some of which are canon to Zhongli's personality, and some of which I feel should be more popular when it comes to creating fan content of our beloved Li:

Wise: Even at baseline, I think we can all tell that Zhongli is a wise and philosophical individual. His wisdom is the result of the accumulation of millennia galore, and most of his appearances in-game involve imparting valuable advice or knowledge to other people. Besides this, it's important to note that before his 'death,' he was responsible for carrying out administrative tasks for the nation (as mentioned by Keqing). He provided commercial & fiscal suggestions every year during the Rite of Descension based on his own observations throughout the year, analyzing the best way forward for the next year to ensure a thriving nation.

Possessive of art & knowledge: While Western dragons are often portrayed hoarding gold and other worldly things, Eastern dragons have an appreciation for art & literature, collecting precious stories and tasteful artifacts that reflect civilization's progress. This is something Zhongli does, too, purchasing wonderfully-crafted items made by the people he's nurtured for centuries, and listening to stories.

Love of humanity: Eastern dragons LOVE humankind, as opposed to their Western counterparts. They even transform into humans of different cultures to try and understand them firsthand. Zhongli is known to shapeshift - I hope to write some pieces soon where he briefly assimilates into other nations' cultures to get closer to them! But other than that, it's safe to say he's taken on various human forms within Liyue itself to get to know his people on a deeper, more personal level.

Bonding with the special someone: Now here's where I get a bit more self-indulgent. Eastern dragons, when they find a human they really really like, will introduce this lovely soul to their vast aforementioned collection of art. The dragon may like to share stories with this beloved person, and even calligraph new ones together. Zhongli loves telling stories of course, but just think how wonderful it would be to sit with him, brush in hand, as he tenderly guides you to create a narrative together on carefully-maintained parchment saved for this very occasion - perhaps outlining anecdotes of his, or even adventures of yours. Things he'd like to immortalize on paper. This sharing of art is a very special thing for dragons to do, so it's practically a once-in-a-millennium activity for them!

[variety-fangirl]

On My Own / Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: It's the morning after Rafe's threatening behaviour, you're still shaken up, but JJ convinces you to go to the police for the safety of you and your baby. Your relationship with JJ also takes a turn for a huge change.

Warnings: typical toxic Rafe behaviour, swearing, threats, police reporting.

Authors note: Feel free to skip this! Here we are again with my terrible timing and scheduling. For the longest time, I had no ideas for the next part and my scheduling took a turn for the worst. I've been trying my hardest to get into University for the past 3 years and am finally here! There's been a lot going on personally behind the scenes for me too, so things have been difficult tbh 😅 But I've finally figured out where I want this next part to go, I also took longer to write this so it was a longer part for the wait 🫡

Word count: 2.6k

After a filling and delicious breakfast made by Sarah, you showered and dressed for the day. You knew you would need to speak to the police about Rafe's behaviour last night, but honestly? You didn't want to. You were frightened by the power he held because of his family and wealth. Peterkin was the only one you could trust if you were to report him, you knew she would listen and take you seriously. She wasn't corrupted or took bribes to hide the truth, she always did the right thing if she could.

You had been mulling over the idea all morning as you brushed your wet hair. You wanted to protect your baby from being near Rafe if you could, they deserved better than to deal with an unstable and cruel man like him. Did you regret your baby? Absolutely not. But did you regret ever getting involved with Rafe? Yes, more than anything. You knew what you had to do, you just didn't know if you had the strength to do it. (hehehe).

A knock sounded on your door, pulling you from your heavy thoughts. You were honestly thankful for the distraction. John B poked his head around the door as you called him in with a smile. He entered your bedroom, opting to sit on the bed next to you. He bumped shoulders gently with yours, "Hey you. How are you doing?" He questioned as you peered at him. You bumped his shoulder in return, offering your most convincing smile.

"I'll be fine once Rafe is away from me and my baby." You mumbled as you rubbed your clothed bump affectionately. John B nodded and placed his hand on top of yours, always the big brother you needed. He brought his arms up and around your shoulders, lovingly pulling you into his chest. "We'll make sure he never comes near either of you again, and even so, we are all here to protect you. No matter what." You slapped at his arm playfully, "Stop! You'll make me cry!" You could already feel the hormonal tears building in your eyes. That telltale burn. He laughed loudly, not stopping you from hitting him.

Once he calmed down, he teasingly learnt closer to your ear. "Sooooo, what's happening with you and JJ?" the clear smirk sounded even in his voice, you could feel the motion against your head. You turned to glare at him, not at all serious, "Do me a favour? Just fuck off." You pushed at his chest gently, not budging him but it's the action that counted for your pride. He laughed once again before letting you go to look at you properly.

"Seriously though. What's going on?" He questioned with a gentle smile as you scooted to face him fully. You knew you could trust John B with anything and that it wouldn't leave this bedroom unless necessary. You shrugged, "Not sure. Didn't even think he saw me that way until this morning. Now I'm rethinking everything, but not necessarily in a bad way." You commented thoughtfully. You were honestly surprised that your best friend was in love with you, and for years for that matter.

"I mean, I think you should give it a shot. You know no one would love you as fiercely or loyal as him. And he loves the baby already. Plus, you've been best friends for years, so you know him well." He mentioned, naturally bigging up his best friend like the good bro he is. "Only if you want to though, of course. No pressure, I won't mention this conversation to anyone else. Just think about it yeah?" He pulled you in for a proper hug, a natural bear hug that had you sighing contently.

You nodded against his chest, wrapping your arms around him in return. The feeling of love and warmth pulling the tears out of you. "Ahhh, for god sake!" You yelled laughing, frustrated with your over-emotional hormones. You both laughed, yours coupled with sniffles. He held you till you pulled yourself together, chatting about how best to go about things. Until you were ready to let go and go to the police station.

John B left the room whilst you finished getting ready for the anxious day ahead of you. You were beyond nervous, especially about how Rafe would react. Lord knows he would hear about your visit to the station through nosy dickheads watching you. You could already feel a headache forming. You groaned as you put on your shoes, with great difficulty, and then made your way downstairs to join the gang.

Everyone was here, waiting for you whilst they ate or drank coffee. Not everyone was a morning person, *cough cough JJ and John B*. But everyone was up and here for you. They had all been filled in with the details of what had happened. JJ offered to take you to the station while the group returned to John B's. You were so thankful for them all, but JJ most of all. He'd held your hand, metaphorically and physically throughout this whole process. No matter how tough it's been or how difficult you thought you were to be around, he was always there with encouraging words. Not once frustrated with you.

You and JJ pile into your car to go to the station, while the gang returns to the chateau. JJ drove instead of you and insisted on doing so, whilst you bathed in nerves. Music from the radio played quietly in the background as you stared out the windows. You hadn't realised your leg was bouncing repeatedly against the floor, that your hands in your lap were pulling at your sleeves, or that you were biting the skin on your lips absentmindedly. You only noticed when JJ's hand grabbed your knee, rubbing the area soothingly.

You turned to look at him, your knee now still, "it's going to be okay, sweetheart." JJ reassured, trying to calm your chaotic mind and seeping nerves. You placed your hand on top of his, taking a deep breath in as you laced your fingers with his. You place your unoccupied hand on his arm, cuddling his arm into you. You hum contentedly at the warmth he naturally produces, snuggling closer to him. You caught soft wafts of his cologne wrapping around your senses and it instantly helps calm you.

You sigh, "Thank you." You speak quietly, comforted by his desire to help you feel better. He squeezes your knee, not needing to say anything, he already knew you were grateful. He hums, "What were you thinking about in that beautifully stressed brain of yours anyway?" he wonders with a reassuring smile, his eyes staying on the road ahead. You also look forward, watching the sunny scenery go by. People were going about their normal day-to-day activities, some rushing around or exercising. Everyone else's normal lives... unlike yours, which was chaos because of one single man.

You breathe in and then out through your nose deeply before answering him, "Thinking about... what Rafe will do or how he'll react when he finds out. I don't imagine it'll be long. That prick always seems to hear about everything, even before others do. It's like he has eyes everywhere at all times or something." You huff in frustration, looking out the passenger window, "I can't eat, shit or piss without that asshole knowing... So who knows what he'll do when he finds out I've gone to the station to report his behaviour." You whisper the last part, feeling dejected about what was to come with him.

JJ squeezed your knee again, to try and help calm your raging nerves and worries. He nods, "I know. It's going to be difficult but we need to stop him somehow. He needs to stay away from you and the baby, he's dangerous. Or I'll do something that'll get me into trouble." JJ mumbled the last part, seemingly more to himself than to you. You sigh, the last thing you wanted was JJ getting intro problems or going overly out of his way for you. He does enough for you as is, so you don't want him to do anything more.

-

It wasn't before you reached the station and parked outside, opposite the building. You sat in the car for a few minutes before going in, trying to calm yourself long enough to talk to the sheriff. It was beyond frustrating that this was where you were at in your life. That this was what you were dealing with because you stupidly fell in love with the wrong man. You wanted to smack yourself across the head for being an idiot, despite knowing his reputation. You fell for his charm and good looks, like an absolute fool. But now you were here and you couldn't change the past. But you could shape your future.

You look to JJ and nod, letting him know you are good. You both get out, taking your time with JJ's help and walk towards the building. You were going to use every trick in the book to stop Rafe from coming near you or your child again. You would report and record everything that Rafe has done that would class as a risk to your child to keep him away. So help you, you would protect your child with everything you could. With your own life if you need to.

You make your way inside and speak to the man at the reception desk, requesting to speak to Peterkin privately. He points to the chairs behind you in the small waiting area, "Wait here for a bit while I speak with her. She's busy at the moment, so it may take some time." You nod in understanding, "It's urgent, so I can wait. Thank you, sir." You reply as you turn to sit with JJ on the wooden chairs. The chair squeaked in protest from overuse and years of never being replaced.

You and JJ wait as patiently as possible, chatting to keep yourselves entertained and pass the time until Peterkin arrives. JJ held your hand the whole time, sensing your nerves returning tenfold. If your leg repeatedly tapping against the ground or your fiddling free hand had anything to say about it. You were waiting for around fifteen minutes, getting more antsy as each minute passed by. By the time Peterkin called you to go into her office, whilst JJ waited in the waiting area, you were a sweating bucket of nerves.

Peterkin closed the door behind you both as you took a seat opposite her desk, your hands resting on your stomach. "Some water?" She asked with a smile, walking over to her cooler. You nodded, "Yes, please." You were in need of something cold to cool you down and quench the thirst that had formed since waiting. She filled a cup and then offered it to you before sitting at her desk, "Thank you." You said gratefully.

"So, y/n. What kind I do for you? Congratulations are clearly in order." She motioned to your stomach with a kind smile, she was always so nice to you. Still is. "Thank you, not long to go. My pregnancy is actually related to why I'm here." She nodded, giving you the opportunity to speak up.

You gave her the rundown of what Rafe had been doing since the day you confronted him about your pregnancy. It took you half an hour to mention everything you could, trying your hardest not to forget any details. She asked questions where necessary and nodded when listening, all while writing down notes. Peterkin was well aware of Rafe's behaviour, he was a celebrity at the station. Peterkin wouldn't admit it but she did not like Rafe at all. She was completely understanding and comforted you when you teared up about last night.

"Damn, honey... That damn Rafe. I'm sorry for what he's been putting you through, you don't deserve any of that. But legally? I can't do anything. Unless he threatens or hurts you and your baby physically, I can't report anything for you. My hands are tied. Off the record: No matter how much I personally would love to see him punished. That kid is nothing but trouble. But as soon as something else happens, with Rafe, there is no doubt that he will, okay?" She sighs frustratedly, knowing already how deflated and frustrated you must feel.

You nod, hiding all the true feelings that wish to come to the surface underneath. "I understand, if there is anything that I can do, please do let me know. And I'll inform you of anything else that happens. Thank you, sheriff." You get up from your seat and make your way to the door feeling completely hopeless about what you'll do with Rafe next. Peterkin stops you just as you're opening the door, still in the doorway. You see JJ getting up from his seat at the sound of the door opening.

Peterkin hands you a sticky note with her name and number in black pen, "anything you need, just call. Anything. Okay?" She rubs your arm gently after she passes the note to you, a motherly comfort sort of rub. It made you smile, despite all the negative emotions you were feeling. You nodded, "Thank you."

You walk towards JJ, putting the sticky note in your bag for safekeeping. You'd add her contact info to your phone later on. "You good?" JJ questions with concern laced in his tone. You'd been in there for a little while, he'd probably been worried about you. You smile as you look at him, wrapping your arms around his bicep and leaning into his side gently. JJ smiled down at you in return as you answered him.

You explain everything to JJ on the way back to the chateau, all while trying your best not to think all that Rafe had planned since last night. He was beyond angry at you for doing nothing wrong, but in his eyes, you'd double-crossed him. It gave you chills. JJ did his best to assure you that they would all look after you and that he'd kill Rafe if he came near you or the baby, which you appreciated deeply. But you didn't want to get them involved. It wasn't their fault, it wasn't yours either, but you'd made your choice that first time you let Rafe lure you in with a kiss at the back of a house party at Sarah's.

You'd figure something out, you always did. You wouldn't let Rafe win, no matter what. That prick got his own way, way too often. But not this time, no. Rafe was going to stay away from you and your baby. Even if that meant having to flee somewhere he wouldn't find either of you. You turned and looked at JJ as the car stopped, both just taking a moment before you went inside. "Oh, you have something on your cheek." You pointed out, looking intently at his perfectly clean cheek. He started rubbing at his cheek confused, "gone?" he questioned with furrowed brows.

You shook your head, "come here, I'll get it for you." You motioned for him to come closer and as soon as he did, your lips were on his. Just a simple 3-second pec, to test the waters, despite his confession to John B this morning. You pulled away and stared at him with anticipation of his reaction. His eyes were wide in shock and you thought you'd fucked up. You went to move away but JJ grabbed the back of your neck and desperately pulled you in, crashing his lips against yours with a moan.

The more you looked at JJ, the more the talk with John B from this morning played on your mind. You'd been thinking of JJ as something more ever since, trying wouldn't hurt, would it? He wouldn't hurt you the way Rafe did and will. JJ was different and you couldn't lie that you'd never looked at him that way. Trying wouldn't hurt, would it?

Taglist: @bardi4l @fictionconnoisseur @thecraekenslover @brooklynscherry-z

[gem-de-lune]

Daily Vibe Check 11/14

Seunghan

Strength + The Star

This is a lot of courage and faith. Particularly, it is not necessarily peoactive action based but internal. I have said before that he seems to be preparing himself for something, and it seems to be it. He has a lot of hope today. Today is a good day for him.

What is he doing today?

The Wheel of Fortune + Knight of Cups + The Emperor

This is a lot of internal and personal work. He is still very much in the energy of acceptance. A lot of people have seemed to get the wrong idea from this. So, while I was reading this today, I felt called to a specific phrase in pulling the Wheel card. "What comes up must come down." Understand that this is true vise versa as well. Seunghan's acceptance stems from the fact that he feels he cannot possibly reach a point lower than what had happened now. Whatever happens will be just as impactful and in a positive way in his mind. Today, he is handling his affairs and future plans. For once, he is alone, but he is not depressed today. He has a lot of willpower, a lot of heart, and determination to make the best out of his day. He may interact with a pet or other animals today. I also see him practicing maybe singing? Something creative and vocal.

Finances (someone asked abt this so adding it to check-in)

3 of Coins + 3 of Wands + 8 of Swords

The spread suggests the current situation is one where if he works hard with others, there is a definite opportunity to reap very good rewards and new opportunities to come. However, with the 8 of Swords, there seems to be a tension in that these rewards and opportunities cannot be reached until he has broken free of certain constraints and setbacks. I think the current situation. But He seems to have a good support system- at least financially to be healthy and okay for the time being. The situation could change soon though if nothing is done about the 8 of Swords energy.

Bottom of the Deck:

The Lovers

In this context, we are talking about the harmonious decision made between multiple entities. I think this card seeks to represent Seunghan's intentions. He wants things to end harmoniously with no ill feelings or contempt. He is going to choose peace every time. That's just how and who he is. (Libras amirite lmfao)

Final Notes:

Tbh guys I am getting the feeling that good things will happen but not when we want them to. Everything i have been reading daily has been screaming PATIENCE. I am not that patient tbh. But i think I could wait a bit longer as long as the ending is satisfactory.

However, i am being told it is seriously important that we make whatever time we have left count here....things have been shifting, and SM is sly no matter what. They believe this could still possibly fade into the dark. Things need to be more visible, and garner more attention. POSITIVE attention TOWARDS Seunghan and attention to SM to DO SOMETHING not just insult them- but a literal call to action in a way we have not done before. I keep saying this, but tbh it's super super important right now as I speak. I'm getting literal goosebumps about it, so I pulled some cards asking abt Seunghan's return to Riize to checkup:

7 of Wands + 5 of Wands

This is a fight. We MUST stand our ground. We MUST not forget what we are doing. And We CANNOT afford to lose the war. It is clear there are still details and stipulations causing a lot of hesitance and inner fighting on SMs side. We absolutely need to remind them again why they listened to the wrong side. If we don't manage to have at least one more final hurrah here- it's not looking AS good as before.

Please please please do not give up.

[dashing-disaster]

Okay I either just had the best or the worst idea on the topic of Crash That Helicopter and someone else has probably already had the same thought just better but.

What if Tommy regains consciousness and realises he's trapped and his chopper is basically toast, including his comms. But his phone is miraculously okay. So he calls 911.

Meanwhile at dispatch, Maddie is having the Worst Time with morning sickness and runs to the toilet every 10 minutes until Josh decides to force her to go home. But she refuses at first because Kevin and Sarah are both out with the flu and Jessica unexpectedly quit last week to follow her boyfriend of 5 weeks to Australia and now they're short staffed. But Josh tells her it's fine they'll figure it out and pretty much throws her out. He has a small breakdown because they are seriously short staffed but luck just so has it that one of the long term dispatchers walks through the door right then (Debbie perhaps?) with her friend who used to work here but quit years ago and now lives in Phoenix (was it phoenix? I don't quite remember) buy she wanted to see the new dispatch centre and say hi to some people. And in walks no other than Abby Clark.

And Josh is still spiralling a little and she immediately offers to fill in for a few hours it's really no problem she still works in dispatch after all and she knows the systems and she'd love to help. And Josh, stressed but grateful accepts and ushers her towards a free desk. And Abby gets to work right away and she definitely still got it, she does one or two simple calls absolutely flawlessly and then in comes the third call and the voice is familiar.

And that's how Abby takes Tommy's 911 call, and immediately dispatches the best unit she knows because of course.

And of course he also immediately recognises her even though he's kinda dizzy and losing blood. They start talking. Not really about them but light things because Abby needs to keep Tommy awake and he's fading so she tries to keep his attention. So she tells him she's sent the 118, they're his old house right, but lots of new faces, actually she used to date his replacement and then broke his heart by walking away from him. And he laughs kinda pained. Actually, so did he. She pauses for a moment, then demands clarification so Tommy starts talking. And he tells the whole story for the first time since the break up, including the reasons. Some of them he doesn't even mention because it's Abby. Abby who maybe knows him best in the whole world because she's known him at his worst and somehow still loved him.

And Abby listens. And when he's finally done she let's out a long sigh and calls him a dumbass. And then she gets to setting his head straight. She gives him a proper dressing down and gets to the bottom of it. And finally she asks him if he regrets it. Yes. If he loves Buck. If course he does. If he wants him back.... Yeah. So she tells him to work for it, to fight for them. And when she's done giving him a passionate little monologue about love and relationships silence falls.

She calls his name. No answer, only sirens in the distance.

She calls his name again, more frantically and he's still not replying and now she's in tears because they can't both break Buck's heart like that, one of them has to fucking fix it!

Meanwhile the 118 has been racing towards the crash site, Buck antsy but determined and refusing to stay by the rig and let Eddie and Ravi handle it. Tommy needs him.

When they finally arrive it's a complete nightmare, debris and fire everywhere and they're taking far too long to cut Tommy out. Long enough for the TV crews to arrive and start broadcasting the whole thing live.

So Abby, still on the line with an unresponsive Tommy, hoping, praying, is watching Taylor Kelly report live from the crash site where the firefighter have started ripping through the remains of the helicopter. Until Bobby steps in front of the camera and forces them to shut it off because he has no idea what they're going to find there.

Which is also why he eventually makes the decision to pull Buck back after all. Between Eddie, Ravi, Hen and Chim there are enough hands already anyway, they've got him, Buck.

So that's how Taylor Kelly, who's still a bit pissed at Bobby for ruining her news piece, watches Buck disappear between the engine and the ladder truck looking like his world is collapsing and he might be her ex but of course she still cares. It's Buck, how can you not care about him? So she follows him and finds him just as he's breaking down. And she has no idea what's going on, she simply pulls him into a hug and let's him cry it out.

And when he csn breathe again he tells her. That's the love of his life there. His name is Tommy and he dumped him three months ago after he asked him to move in. And they both smile weakly before he continues.

He never told him. He only ever told her, and he didn't lie, he promises but it's never felt like this. And he never told him that he loved him.

Loves him.

And she says that maybe he should do that now then and nods at something behind him.

And there are Chim and Hen and Ravi and Eddie running towards the parked vehicles, pushing a gurney. And there's Bobby yelling for Buck to come get his ass into the ambulance, they have to leave right now.

And Taylor smiles and wipes his tears away and gives him a push. Go. Go and fight and tell him what you told me.

And he does.

[nadinescholtes]

Hi, big fan here. I love your Laia series so much and am planning on checking out your cool uncle series it looks just as adorable. But I have a question

What would Laia's reaction to meeting Ruin, Nexus, and Dark Sun would be?

I have had that thought bouncing around in my head for several days now and I NEED to know.

Also, when does Laia enter their lives in your au? Is it after or before Nexus' turn to the dark side and death?

Hi, thank you!

She would appear after Nexus and every other future villain of Sun and Moon Show. It would be like Sun fighting and surviving and finally getting his girlfriend, lol.

But their new "villain" would be the humans, fighting for their rights, maybe? Nothing big. Fazbear treats them ok, as long the animatronics make money for them, but they don't want the title "property" over their heads.

If she was there when those three were still around. Of course, she would be very protective of the family. But she would also try to understand the villains. She wouldn't try to kill until it was really the last resort.

Dark Sun: until now he is a mystery to her but doesn't trust him.

Ruin:...throws 5000 slippers at him.

Nexus: this is going to be a long one, and my goal is a happy end. I try to keep it short.

Laia would be confused as to why Nexus became like that and would do what she is good at, watch movies, and critique them. She did that for years in the shop in her free time. So she watches the videos to see what went wrong. Having a new perspective on the situation.

She would see that the family isn't fully innocent. Their relationship with Nexus was unhealthy from the beginning and became worse with time and the death of Solar was the breaking point.

They did treat him like a nice version of Moon, not a completely different individual. I know it was unintended because of the same face, voice, and name. They should have seen what they were doing, giving him time, helping him find his own personality, altering his appearance, and giving him a new name if he wished. Nexus was talking about his issues, and they should have listened but they were dismissive. Grief can do a lot of damage.

But also Nexus should have just left, he had the knowledge and the resources. He could have just left this toxic relationship, it wasn't healthy to stay because the others didn't change their ways of how they treated him. If he had left they would have gotten a breather and kept the contact minimal until they figure themselves out.

And she would be super mad at Monty because they could have brought back old Moon any time.

Nexus became so resentful he didn't know what to do with those feelings, he didn't know why it became like that because he had new excuses every time they met, why he became evil. He chooses to use a power to feel strong and be in control but is killing him slowly.

This would remind her of one of her previous owners. Who lost control of the business and started drinking and doing other substances, which were harming them. In the end, they lost all.

She would find a way to be with Nexus alone, maybe with the help of Solar or Monty, because she knows he can't be in a room with any of his ex-friends and family without fighting. She would be scared but she knew the chance of being killed by Nexus would be minimal because every chance he got to kill, he would hesitate and keep talking and talking.

So she does that, talk. She would be someone new to talk to, someone who didn't have a past with him or Moon. Also, she understands him at some points, she wasn't her own person for a long time from day one, and she didn't have control until someone helped her.

He would threaten to kill her and her response would be: "And I could kick you in the bolts, yet here we are."

Or he would accuse her of trying to play the therapist. Her response: I know Jack sh*t about therapy. Do you want to talk or not?

If he stayed, she would say she saw how his ex-family and friends have been treating him, that it wasn't healthy from the beginning. And can't believe how fast they gave up on him, their own brother! Even Killcode who actually killed people and made their lives hell was forgiven and left alone.

She would ask him what he would have done on the first day he was "born", what person he would have liked to be, and what his life could have looked like, if he wasn't treated as the "new, nice Moon".

Maybe he would tell her. maybe not. But if he does, she would ask him, what is stopping him from living that life right now? He wants control? Go leave, start somewhere fresh, a new dimension, and go No-contact with everyone. She would tell everyone to go No-contact as well.

Yes, he left but he keeps coming back, harassing and threatening his ex-friends and family, which is not truly leaving, it's not being in control. He lets the resentment that was created by that toxic relationship control him and be bound to them and even if he kills them all, he wouldn't get that control back. Their death would not be him leaving them but them leaving him and he would never be able to change that, carry this for the rest of his life.

And those powers don't make anything better, they just make him feel like he is in control but he actually isn't. It's slowly killing him like a drug and not giving him what he wants.

He might say, that he doesn't care what happens to him. She would call him out, if he truly doesn't care about himself then he would still play the role of the "new, nice Moon" and not fight. Do what you couldn't back then, leave!

He might say, you can't tell me what to do. Laia would say, she doesn't, she just is giving advice to a person who is hurting. He can take it or not, it's his choice. But the next time she sees him and starts his crap again, she would fight him. And don't think the family would go unpunished. She would not go on eggshells and have a serious word with them and make sure they'll make up for him one day.

Now here it would be Nexus' choice of what to do.

I don't write fanfiction only scripts, lol. Usually, I would think and write on my stories for weeks until it's fleshed out and make sense. But this is just an idea of how it could go with Nexus. I hope it wasn't too much.

Part2

[tomorrowxtogether]

TAEHYUN: “I wish happiness for the people who made me feel happy”

TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback interview

2024.11.14

TAEHYUN never speaks in a roundabout way. The idol doesn’t mince words, and there’s something tender about that.

You spent some alone time at the Hangang River a little while back. What do you do when you go there? TAEHYUN: I buy my choice of drink, a caramel macchiato, and go in search of serenity while I sip it to get the taste of sweetness on my tongue and take in the peaceful scenery with my eyes. It doesn’t really inspire me so much as it just sort of feels restorative. I just feel good when I do that.

You’re probably so busy that you only get little bits of time here and there, but what would you want to do if you could carve some free time out of your busy schedule? TAEHYUN: I’d have some of that serenity I just mentioned, and work out, too. I’d probably just do the same things I do in tiny bursts now but be more relaxed about it. Right now I exercise when I have little breaks, like when I’m done for the day.

It seems like working out’s pretty much a part of your routine. TAEHYUN: It’s so routine for me now that sometimes I don’t even know why I’m doing it. It’s like how gym rats work out with no end goal. (laughs) It’s helpful for my posture since I start hunching over if I haven’t worked out in a while, and anyway, if I go straight home after work, I feel like I haven’t done enough. (laughs) I like how it keeps me ready to go and makes me feel productive.

You even keep it up when you’re on tour, running to stay in shape or working on your abs for “Tinnitus (Wanna be a rock).” TAEHYUN: We did around 30 shows and I showed off my abs every time. (laughs) I showed them once on tour in Seoul and then I thought people might feel left out if I skipped it anywhere else. I started getting more into food somewhere down the road so they’re slowly disappearing, but I’m trying to keep them around one way or another. (laughs) It hasn’t been easy. I make myself run until I’m out of breath when we’re on tour because it challenges me in the exact same way as performing. I don’t know if it really helps since I’ve never not done it and therefore don’t have data on it, but I believe it does.

Boxing, on the other hand, seems like something you’ve kept up a long time not for keeping in shape but just for fun. TAEHYUN: Boxing isn’t something where you can slow down when you get tired. If your opponent ups their pace, you have to, too—but you’re just as much an obstacle to them. If you’re not fighting for a title or to make it into a competition, then there’s no risk of getting hurt, so it’s a great way to break a sweat and get in some cardio. You hear sports like these called chess played with the body. Even if you’re not as good as your opponent in some ways, you’ve still got a shot at winning. What makes it so enticing is how you have to hone your skills in order to be powerful.

What does it mean to you to be powerful? TAEHYUN: It means a lot of different things. There’s some boxers who are strong for their weight class, and some who can shut out the crowd when they’re on their opponent’s home turf and win. I think it’s partially mental like that. There’s people who make a plan and work toward their goal, avoiding any obstacles standing in their way—people who don’t fall apart.

It feels like that’s your approach to your work in some regards. TAEHYUN: I’d say so too. Those are the kinds of people who get up in front of tons of people at the pro level. We’re similar in that we get up onstage and show everybody what we’ve got after working at it for a while.

How do you find touring after working at it for a while? It’s been about two years since you resumed in-person touring. TAEHYUN: It feels really overwhelming at first. When you find out how many shows there are, where you’re going, and get the set list, it’s seriously … (laughs) I mean, obviously there’s fun parts, but you’re running in an unflattering way to get through the walkways underneath, and sometimes you just feel like, Let’s get it done, or, Time to go change—I will survive. Then there’s parts where time flies, especially when you first get a mic in your hand. It’s all about jumping around and having fun together. Going around and getting hyped with the audience happens spontaneously. That’s when it gets exciting.

I found what you said about your first online fanlive event on weverse LIVE really memorable: “When the camera’s not on me, there’s nowhere to see me. It was crushing.” TAEHYUN: That was a really weird period, since now there was no way for people to know what I was up to when the camera wasn’t on me. But there’s always somebody looking right at me when we do shows in person. In those cases, I have to be capturing the mood of the songs at all times, and I can’t tuck my clothes in right away if I need to or rub my eye if something gets in there. There’s a lot more I have to pay attention to, but they’re all minor things. I’m always going to feel grateful as long as people are watching me.

You also put a lot of effort in for the tour in regard to your vocals, right? You seem to keep challenging yourself and experimenting in your own unique way. TAEHYUN: Yeah, totally. (laughs) I make minute adjustments, like, How can I make this easier? How can I increase my chances of success? How can I minimize damage to my throat? I try to feel how my body changes every time I do. Even for the sound, I’m in direct communication with them to try and get things right during rehearsals. When you’re recording vocals, you can do it over and over to get it right, but you’ve got people watching you at a concert, so you have to be confident you can keep your vocals steady 10 out of 10 times. I asked our producer Slow Rabbit once if we could bring the key down so it wouldn’t be so hard to sing so hard live (laughs) but eventually it worked out anyway. There’s nothing you can’t do if you just practice. If I can’t do it, it means I didn’t try hard enough. Anything is possible.

You sing several ad libs in The Star Chapter: SANCTUARY that give a real sense of your vocal style. Do you feel like you’ve developed your own style while recording vocals now? TAEHYUN: Recording feels more familiar to me now, and the producer and I can practically read each other’s thoughts now, so it's a completely stress-free experience. But there’s one thing that’s always on my mind. I love so many different genres. I love knowing their histories, singing them, and listening to them. But choosing what suits me is a huge challenge. I’m confident I could handle anything they throw at me to 70 or 80% quality, but there’s nothing I feel confident I could do at 100%. I don’t really know if I’m doing a good job of finding my own style, but knowing people can pick out your voice is something that makes any singer happy and appreciative. It’s a really good sign.

I personally felt like only you could pull of the “Forty One Winks” intro. TAEHYUN: We recorded that in Japan during the tour, and before the parts were assigned, I heard the song and asked the producer if I could do the first verse. I said I’d crush it. (laughs) So he said okay and I got to do it, and on the first day of recording, I immediately nailed it. I felt confident about that part: This is how it should go.

You’ve also been writing lyrics for a while now. How’d it go with this new album? TAEHYUN: I have a lot I want to write whenever I think of something that would be really fun for TOMORROW X TOGETHER to sing. The idea behind “Danger” is sort of cliché, but we hadn’t done something like that before so that actually made it fun. What was unusual this time was that we were out of the country so I couldn’t take my preferred approach of opening up a bunch of windows on the monitor in the studio and writing on my phone. It was a new experience for me to not settle down in one place and write. I wrote “Danger” on a plane, “Resist (Not Gonna Run Away)” in a car. I have a tendency to drag things out when I’m in the studio sometimes, but when I’m on the go, I end up writing faster sometimes because I feel like I have to get it all down before arriving—like the ETA’s now the deadline. (laughs)

The lead single “Over The Moon” has a more straightforward message than previous songs. How did you capture your interpretation of the song? You strike me as someone who really needs to understand what they’re singing. TAEHYUN: It’s way more straightforward, but there’s still one line I’d like to hear MOA’s interpretations of: “Let’s make an ancient future.” I need their help because I’m curious how listeners feel about it. (laughs) I guess “Over The Moon” is first and foremost about feeling good. Visually, the sense of freedom is important. I also hope anyone who sees it feels like we’re steady and talented—so much that it’s like, Huh? They’re so eye-catching—I can’t stop thinking about them! If people feel like, These guys are so uplifting—who are they?, at the end of our performance, I’d say it’s a big success. We have to bring out the subtle allure to achieve that. The vocals need to be so good they sound fluid and flexible, and the choreo flawless.

Doesn’t trying to have that kind of allure make it that much harder? TAEHYUN: It’s way harder. (laughs) We reduced the amount of group dancing and filled that time with individual choreo instead, which took a lot of work. All group choreo takes is good stamina and a lot of rehearsal time—this approach takes exploration and gut feeling into what makes it look cool. I think we’ve reached that point in our career now. It’s something people who perform 30 shows at a time can do. (laughs)

You’ve always been the type to practice as hard as you can and just as confidently say so. Is that the case for this album, too? TAEHYUN: Yes.

You sound very sure of yourself! (laughs) TAEHYUN: I put in everything I’ve got within the time available. That’s something I feel I should do. It’s just one of those obvious things. I feel a huge weight off focusing like that. Doing my best means putting my heart and soul into it until I feel that nothing will change no matter what might happen. That’s what doing my best means, I think.

That’s something only someone who has poured everything they have into their work can say. What’s there waiting at the end of all that hard work? TAEHYUN: I chose this path because I love being onstage and love singing, and now I’ve achieved that, but there are times when it becomes necessary to have goals. I want to set loftier goals—I want to do and reach for lots of things under the name TOMORROW X TOGETHER—the five of us and MOA together. There’s a lot I need to uphold for the fans, like sharing feelings and promises. We didn’t pinky promise, but still. (laughs) I want to keep going with our group for a long time, and in order for that to happen, people need to keep checking us out, which gives me a sense of certainty. Having some goals and achieving them lets us feel like we’re really doing a good job and heading in the right direction.

You’ve been with the other members for eight years now, which is over a third of your life. TAEHYUN: That’s true. And I’ve known YEONJUN for nine years. Now, even when we’re working out how to move, we don’t need to say much—like, “Two? Three?” That’s how we ask whether to stand at the second or third marker on the stage. We’ve reached a point where we can talk entirely in nouns.

I could sense how close you are in episode 144 of TO DO X TXT, “Abandoned Stars,” when the older members were being protective of you even though they were equally scared. (laughs) TAEHYUN: I felt there was still kindness in the world in that moment. (laughs) SOOBIN saying, “He can’t do it alone,” and YEONJUN said, “Don’t send him in by himself.” (laughs) We know each other so well that we don’t hide anything. Working with people who you get along with that well is an absolute blessing. It’s a good thing, too, since we spend more time with each other than our own families. It wasn’t easy to get there, though. (laughs) I don’t mean to be blunt, but we first came together to work together, meaning there were conflicts, and it took some time to figure out what didn’t work. Sometimes I even felt it’d be easier to go alone, but now doing it alone is challenging.

You even brought YEONJUN a lunch you made for him when he went to do a pre-recording to promote “GGUM.” TAEHYUN: I know one thing for sure: I think I’m extremely attentive toward the other members, and I’m always monitoring their performances. Maybe if it were one of the other members, I would’ve expressed how much I care in a different way, but for YEONJUN, I thought it would be best if I went there in person. He finds that kind of thing touching. (laughs) I was worried because he loves to eat and yet he probably couldn’t eat properly and would just be eating fast food from the store. I just happened to be free, so I dropped by, gave it to him, and came back to get some sleep. (laughs) Only love can make that possible.

You’re really good about showing the people around you how much you care. TAEHYUN: I’m actually not close with that many people. There’s people I care for, or see all the time, or do stuff with, and I feel like, even if I put in the time and effort, it still requires a lot of opening up and communication. That’s what the people in my life mean to me. With the group, I feel like it has to be that way to end up with better results and build trust. That means that sometimes when we’re talking together, we’re not just saying nice things. If all you’re looking to do is keep things roughly as they are, you could get away with saying nice things exclusively, but sometimes you just have to say or hear unpleasant things.

That could honestly be hard to handle, but it’s love that keeps you going, isn’t it? TAEHYUN: It’s important how I express things, but I think it’s also important what the other members think of me. If they’re working with the knowledge that I’m saying those things out of love, they wouldn’t think it’s absurd. It’d just be nagging otherwise. (laughs) It takes a lot of effort from everyone involved.

But you have nothing but love when it comes to MOA. I randomly saw how one time while YEONJUN was doing pre-recording, you talked about how  MOA’s wait times need to be shortened. TAEHYUN: I hope our fans can have the best fan experience possible. I felt like it’d be better if we came back out a little sooner in the space between songs to talk. Spending a little extra time on fixing ourselves up doesn’t really make us look that much better, I mean. (laughs) I told our staff, “We should hurry out there,” and I guess they listened. (laughs)

You also left a comment on weverse saying, “Wishing other people happiness is one of the ways I’ve found happiness myself.” I’m guessing you had an experience that led you to feel that way. TAEHYUN: When I meet fans, sometimes they say things like, “You saved my life.” Honestly, all I could do was do my best with singing, put out some albums, and get up onstage. I think maybe the reason they say it that way is because getting to know TOMORROW X TOGETHER and seeing us brings out positive feelings for them. I thought that wishing happiness for the same people who made me feel happy and wishing the best for them would send more positive vibes back their way again. I think that moment really hit me.

[raventrinkets]

Krang Timeline??

Hey y'all, has anyone figured out a timeline for the Krang in ROTTMNT? I've been gathering facts from the show/movie, but I was curious if anyone had already figured this out.

I'm going to include all my notes under the cut, but My QUESTION is:

If the main Krang were sealed away 1000 years ago (as Raph says in the movie) does that mean that there were still Krang around to give Shredder his armour 500 years later? Or was Raph misinformed and the Krang were probably sealed around the same time as the Shredder, 500 or so years ago?

Edit: @pinkjunepeanut made a fantastic point in the comments! Basically she said that the Krang probably were sealed 1000 years ago, but contacted Oroku Saki from the Prison Dimension (likely via the Key). Go check out her comments if you want the full theory!

If you've got thoughts or answers, please share! 

Please note I've made Edits to the original version of this post! I've indicated where :)

At this point I'm pretty sure that:

A Krang ship crashed at some point very early on (now within the Weeping Titan), allowing for Empyrean to create the Yokai. If we're following when Yokai entered our written records, that would have to be before 720 CE (so over 1300 years ago). (I'm specifically referencing the Nihon Shoki or Nihongi here).

A Krang (who kinda looks like Krang 3) gives Oroku Saki the Dark Armour, which eventually corrupts him and turns him into the Shredder. Karai seals them both in the Twilight Realm, but is released by the Turtles 500 years later (that's what she says, anyway). So it would have taken place in the Sengoku Period. Which makes a lot of sense, as this period started with the Ōnin War, and Karai refers to the Krang who gives her father the Dark Armour as an Ōnin. Probably not a coincidence on the writer's part. 

The Krang were sealed within the Prison Dimension “many centuries ago”:

Raph specifically says 1000 years, which I believe would place the invasion in the Heian Period of Japan’s history. Due to the overlap of Yokai and Mystic powers, this probally would have had to have taken place AFTER the Krang in the Weeping Titan died. But I suppose it could be possible that specific Krang died in that battle, creating the Yokai later on, and we can ignore historical accounts of Yokai mythos within the ROTTMNT universe. But then we have the issue of WHO GAVE THE SHREDDER HIS ARMOUR?? Edit: As I mentioned above, Pinkjunepeanut offered a neat solution to this: the Krang were sealed 1000 years ago, later contacting Oroku Saki from the Prison Dimension, probably in a bid to get him to eventually free them.

If Raph was misinformed, and the Krang hadn’t been sealed for 1000 years, that changes things. Considering the Mystic Warriors seem to be wearing armour based more from the Edo period of Japan, 400-500 years would make more sense (I have more notes below). This would probably mean that the Krang were sealed in the Prison Dimension AFTER the Shredder was sealed in the Twilight Realm, so they could be around to give him the Dark Armour in the first place. 

Notes on the Mystic Warriors armour:

So this is the picture we have of the Mystic Warriors that sealed the Krang ^

I THINK they're wearing (from left to right) a Kutsune Mask (mainly seen in the Edo Period, but also, to a lesser extent, in the Heian period), a Dō-maru kabuto (also appeared in the Heian period, but was also common in the Edo Period), a hitai-ate (Edo period) and Chronmage hairstyle (Edo period again), and finally another hitai-ate or maybe a Hachimaki (Sengoku period, but also later on). (Please note that this is all me doing some cursory research online, so I could very well be incorrect or misinformed).

All of this makes me think they were learning towards the Edo Period in the designs (this also could have been influenced by ninja themed anime, like Naruto). However, there is a fair amount of overlap with the Sengoku period, which is when Karai is likely from. This wouldn’t change a lot, just how long it was between Karai’s first interaction with the Krang and them eventually being sealed by the Mystic Warriors. 

Edit: While I believe (again, this is based off my brief research) all their attire overlapped the most during the Edo or Sengoku periods, if we assume they sealed the Krang 1000 years ago (during the Heian Period) then most of this can be chalked up to creative decisions. I mentioned above that it's likely the show took influence from existing media focused around ninja's, so their blend attire from different eras can easily be explained away by that. Pinkjunepeanut's theory also answers a question I didn't bring up: the fact that none of them are wearing a recognizable emblem. If they were a part of the Hamato (or Foot) clan, then those symbols definitely would have been incorporated into the designs.

Anyway, all of this to say, does the timeline look something like this?

Krang scout (?) ship visits earth, crashes, accidentally creates Yokai and probably mystic powers with Empyrean.

500-800ish years later, more Krang appear and basically make the Shredder, forcing Karai to seal herself and her father in the Twilight Realm. This creates the Foot who worship the Krang and the Hamato's who work to prevent the Shredder's return.

Sometime in the next 100 years, the Krang attempt a full invasion of Earth, prompting the four mystic warriors (Hamatos? probably.) to seal them within the Prison Dimension (which appears similar to the Twilight Realm, as @pinkjunepeanut pointed out to me, and can also be accessed by a mystic warrior [Draxum gets them into the Twilight Realm, Mikey to the Prison Dimension]).

400ish years later, the Movie happens.

If this is wrong and the Krang were sealed 1000 years ago, it would mean that a different Krang gave the Shredder his armour. While that could be interesting (as that means there's more Krang kicking about), I think this was more akin to the "Hammer and Anvil" Strategy. Basically, the Krang probably sent a small force to weaken Earth or corrupt it to their ways (as seen with the armour corrupting Oroku Saki and the Shredder's later goals, ie. the conquest of humanity), before attacking with a greater force later on (this could have been a decade to a century later). However, this didn’t go to planned as they were sealed away by the Mystic Warriors (who they likely accidentally created with Empyrean in the first place... LOL). 

Edit: It could also look like this...

Krang scout (?) ship visits earth, crashes, accidentally creates Yokai and probably mystic powers with Empyrean. This would have to be, at minimum, 1300 years ago (but was probably a lot earlier than even that).

1000 year ago, so during the Heian Period, the Krang attempt to invade Earth. They're stopped by the four Mystic Warriors and sealed in the Prison Dimension with the Key.

A little under 500 years later, the Foot Clan, led by Oroku Saki, is under attack and he makes a deal with a mysterious "Ōnin" (the Krang in the Prison Dimension) for the armour that eventually corrupts him and turns him into the Shredder. His daughter, Karai, created the Hamato Clan in response and eventually seals both herself and the Shredder in the Twilight Realm.

500 years later, the Turtles accidentally release the Shredder but then defeat him and reunite a no longer corrupt Oroku Saki with Karai.

3 (ish) years later, the Foot (who still worship the Krang who gave their founder the Dark Armour) release the Krang with the Key, and the Movie happens.

Honestly, I think this timeline fits better than my first, but I decided to keep the original as I don't like doing major revisions to post's after posting them. We show our work here😂

I know I'm probably making this more complicated than it needs to be, as there's no guarantee the writers worried too much about making it historically accurate. But, as I'm currently in the middle of a fic that's dealing with the Krang, I want to finalize my timeline LOL. Also, I'm sure I'm not the only person who's tried to figure this out, so if you have the answers PLEASE SHARE! I could be missing something obvious that answers all my question, and (if it wasn't obvious by this essay of a post) I love finding out more about the show.

If you've read this far, you are amazing.

[falafelluva]

warnings: not a warning but to the anon who sent in a request with a flower emoji and something with that my fics make them giggle pls resend it because my phone glitched and it got deleted n now I feel bad 😞😞💔!

Girllll 🥹🥹🥹🥹

I forgot it HAHAHAHAHAH BUT I HAVE SOMETHING NEW 👀 kenny crushing on his younger cousins babysitter and is literally making things up just to stop by etc.

; 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 - 𝘬.𝘺𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘻 ✮

summary: the req

warnings: x

author’s note: scuse my disappearance yall, they r trying to put me in a mental hospital. This is so short because im trying to eat my rice and I made u guys study psychology in this 😔😥

It started as nothing more than a coincidence—or at least, that’s what Kenan told himself. His cousin Leila had a babysitter now, someone his aunt had raved about over the phone. “She’s amazing with kids,” his aunt had said, “Leila loves her.”

Kenan didn’t think much of it until the first time he stopped by his aunt’s house and saw you sitting on the couch, Leila sprawled across your lap with her favorite picture book in hand.

You looked up and smiled, warm and effortless, and Kenan swore his heart stopped for a second.

“Hi,” you said casually, brushing off the dust from the book

Kenan cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “Hey. Uh, I’m Kenan. Leila’s cousin.”

“I know,” you replied with a small laugh. “She talks about you all the time, star boy, right?”

Star boy.

From that moment, Kenan couldn’t help himself. Anytime he had a free afternoon, he found a reason to stop by his aunt’s house.

Dropping off snacks for Leila, picking up a book he ‘forgot’ the last time, or even randomly asking his aunt if she needed help with errands.

The truth? He just wanted to see you.

One Wednesday afternoon, you were in the kitchen cutting up some fruit for Leila when the doorbell rang.

You frowned—his aunt wasn’t due home for another couple of hours.

When you opened the door, there he was. Kenan stood on the porch, hands stuffed in his pockets, his signature sheepish grin plastered across his face.

“Hey,” he said, glancing over your shoulder. “Is, uh, my aunt home?”

You raised an eyebrow. “No, she’s still at work. You didn’t know that?”

“Oh… right. Must’ve mixed up the time.” He scratched the back of his neck, clearly caught off guard by your question.

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a teasing smile on your lips.

“You’ve been stopping by a lot lately. Are you sure you’re not just here for the snacks?”

Kenan laughed nervously, feeling his ears heat up. “Maybe. Leila does have good taste.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, unconvinced but amused. “Come in. She’s in the living room drawing.”

Kenan stepped inside, pretending to head straight for his cousin, but his gaze kept drifting toward you.

You were wearing a simple outfit—jeans and a t-shirt—but somehow, you made it look effortless.

He sat with Leila for a few minutes, watching her color in her sketchbook, but when she got distracted by her favorite cartoon, he wandered back into the kitchen.

“You’re good with her,” he said, leaning against the counter as you wiped down the cutting board.

You glanced at him, a hint of surprise in your expression. “Thanks. She’s a sweet kid. Makes my job easy.”

Kenan nodded, his heart racing as he searched for something else to say.

He wasn’t usually like this—nervous and fumbling for words. But there was something about you that made him feel like a teenager again.

“You’re, uh, studying?” he asked, motioning to the notebook you’d left open on the counter.

“Yeah, just some school stuff. Nothing exciting.”

“What are you studying?”

“Psychology,” you replied, setting the board aside. “I want to work with kids one day. Maybe as a counselor or therapist.”

“That’s cool,” Kenan said, genuinely impressed. “You’d be great at that.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, and for a second, he forgot how to breathe.

Just then, Leila called for you from the living room. You excused yourself, leaving Kenan alone in the kitchen, staring at the counter like an idiot.

“What am I doing?” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

—

The next time he stopped by, he didn’t even bother coming up with an excuse. He showed up with a bag of snacks for Leila and walked in like he belonged there.

You were on the floor with Leila, helping her put together a puzzle, when you glanced up and spotted him.

“Back again?” you teased, your eyes sparkling.

Kenan shrugged, trying to keep his voice casual. “What can I say? I like spending time with my favorite cousin.”

Leila looked up and beamed. “Kenan!”

“See?” he said, grinning as he sat down next to you. “She’s always happy to see me.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Uh-huh. And it has nothing to do with the snacks you always bring.”

“Hey, I know how to win people over,” he said, smirking.

As the afternoon went on, you noticed the way Kenan’s attention kept shifting from Leila to you.

He asked you about your classes, your favorite movies, even what music you liked. It was almost… sweet.

When his aunt finally came home, you were packing up your bag while Kenan lingered by the door.

“Need a ride home?” he offered, his tone casual but his heart pounding.

You looked at him, surprised. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he said, grinning. “But I want to.”

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, sure. Thanks.”

As you climbed into his car, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Kenan was charming, in a slightly awkward but undeniably endearing way.

And Kenan?

He felt like he’d won the lottery just having you in the passenger seat, laughing at his jokes and filling the car with your presence.

Maybe his excuses weren’t so bad after all.

[sansaorgana]

I am SCREAMING on the inside. This is so good, so delicious, so fucking amazing!!! 🤩🤤 I couldn't help myself and read it at work, sitting by my desk and keeping a poker face on... 😩

I am tempted to quote every single line because the fic is so beautifully written but of course I can't do that. 😅

Still, I have A LOT to say! 💓

However, you make it look so peaceful, he has to try it occasionally. Of course he usually finds you in your dreams, takes all the attention you can spare and more, leaving you wanting until waking when he can ravage you again.

I love how possessive and obsessive he is, that he even haunts her dreams and claims her mind this way all the time.

What makes you think a servant as worthless as you deserves a love like hers?

I love me some humbled Sauron lmao

In this state, you're reminded of just how dangerous your husband is, even between dreaming and waking. His eyes are black, unseeing, with a terrifying expression you're sure would have annihilated any enemy he could have been dreaming of.

Why is this so fucking sexy lmao scared & horny! 🤤😩

"All is well, my love, it wasn't real, you're here with me, no one can touch you here." Some nights, holding him close and murmuring sweet reassurances in his ear is enough to soothe him; tonight he needs a little more from you.

Well, he's welcome to need more and I'm more than happy to give it to him 🥵

But he's hard against your hip, a fact you're trying to ignore; taking advantage of him is the last thing on your mind, not that he would protest, even when he returns to his right mind.

TAKE ADVANTAGE OF HIM, BITCH!!! 😂

You feel him grind against you and you release a breath you didn't even realise you'd been holding.

God, he's such a needy dog! I love that ❣️

"Use me," his breathy moan breaks on your skin like a wave on the shore, tingles washing down your spine, filling your core with empty warmth as he bucks his hips into yours, which respond in kind as you turn your head to meet his hungry kiss.

USE ME??? OMG 😱

"Use me... take me... love me..." he begs you, with less and less breath left in his lungs with each command, as you gently lay him on his back, straddling his thighs, grinding your core into the hard muscle.

I loved this plea because it's like he's begging but also ordering since he's Sauron himself? Idk to me it's a perfect mix of submission driven by dominance if you get me and I'm a slut for that!

Sauron watches you hazily, through heavily lidded eyes, in disbelief that the goddess above him is his and his alone to enjoy and to ruin.

HIS AND HIS ALONE TO ENJOY AND TO RUIN 🛐🛐🛐

You sit up, licking him from your fingers, and your smile is so radiant, he forgets where he is, who he is, all the evil he has ever done. For one shining moment, it is just you and him, all he'd ever need.

She could fuck the evil outta him, love that 😂

"No, no, not that, never that, always so good to me, my beautiful wife, love you so much, my sweet..." His cunt-drunk ramblings are adorable but you put a finger to his lips.

CUNT-DRUNK SAURON 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

You can't help but feel absurdly powerful, a Maia fallen apart at your fingertips, never mind this Maia, this beautiful demon who vowed to never relinquish his control again. It's an honour and a privilege to see him submit to you like this, submit to himself like this, let himself just feel without exercising his need to dominate, to just let go with the one person in the world he knows he is truly free with.

Oh to be the only person he would submit to... 😌

"Please, my love... remake me, make me yours,"

Remake me!!! 😳 He just wants to be her subject, her disciple... Ugh 😩

A tiny voice in his mind tells him he should be embarrassed; but what is worship if not praise?

What is worship if not praise... 🤧

Sitting astride him, you feel as if he's never been so deep inside your cunt before now. You hiss a little at the intrusion but he's so familiar, every time he enters you, it feels like coming home.

I love how they fit each other so well in every sense 😉

"I know what you need..." You murmur as you lean over him, slowing the rhythm of your hips, "nothing in that head, cock wet and wanting, heart full and happy."

I am shooketh and speechless 🥵

Subjugate the Devil (Sauron/F!Reader)

Sauron has a nightmare. You are only too happy to oblige in making him forget; or:

Sub!Sauron makes a lengthy appearance. Plot, what plot?

Set in my In The Dark series, but works as a standalone (alludes to trauma mentioned in other chapters, but it is literally just smut) // AO3 Link

Soundtrack: Disease by Lady Gaga, Don't Let Me Go by Raign, Like a Prayer by Madonna, Oh You Are Not Well by Chloe Foy

Playlist!

Warnings: 18+! Dom/sub - gentle dom, needy sub; just pure smut; literally Plot What Plot (though there is a bit if you squint); P in V sex; oral sex (male and female receiving); copious amounts of bodily fluids (sorry, like for real); cockwarming; dry humping; handjob; begging/denial/teasing; praise kink; multiple orgasms; overstimulation; unresolved trauma; tiny bit of violence but it is just an illusion; very soft!Sauron, so tender. We make him cry and that's all I wanted to do.

A/N: I've been working on this for a few days, it is ummm filthier than anything I've ever written, like I really don't know where it came from. The warnings are just what's on the menu at this point idk.

I pictured Annatar for this one, but you guys can imagine whomever you like (@troublesomesnitch he's got that chest hair though!!) Sub!Halbrand would be a treat ngl.

Excuse the gif guys, I just want to see him cry :)

Word Count: 4.2k (!!)

Sauron does not sleep. Ordinarily.

However, you make it look so peaceful, he has to try it occasionally. Of course he usually finds you in your dreams, takes all the attention you can spare and more, leaving you wanting until waking when he can ravage you again.

Sometimes however his dreams come unbidden. Instead of slipping into your mind, he falls deeper into his own, unearthing old memories he'd rather stay buried, burned beyond recognition.

You always know when this happens; your usually calm and collected lover wakes in a cold sweat, clutching at your skin, his face in your neck, desperate to forget what his mind has shown him. He has never told you the details, but you can only assume it has something to do with his master, with his cruel and unusual forms of punishment.

Tonight is one of those nights, worse perhaps as he moans and writhes in his sleep, rousing you immediately. You can't seem to wake him from his torment, every gentle touch, every kiss to his temple only seems to fan the flames. You end up atop him, each of your thighs either side of his abdomen, trying to shake him awake.

Visions of Morgoth in his wrath; illusions of you partaking in his torture at his master's hand; pain and terror in his heart, as the nightmare refuses to cease, even as you try to soothe him.

What makes you think a servant as worthless as you deserves a love like hers?

Morgoth's words hold him in a vice grip; he can't break free, the unshed tears behind his closed eyelids threaten to leak onto his cheeks, stricken with fear and pain.

"I've got you, you're okay, you're here with me." You stroke his face, your hair brushing his chest, unsure of what to do except hold him.

When his eyes finally fly open, he grasps your arms, and with a leg hooked behind you, flips you onto your back, a dagger at your throat.

You're fairly sure his weapon isn't real, but he is a master of illusion, and pain is merely a construct of the mind; he could hurt you if he wanted to.

In this state, you're reminded of just how dangerous your husband is, even between dreaming and waking. His eyes are black, unseeing, with a terrifying expression you're sure would have annihilated any enemy he could have been dreaming of.

Your hands shaking, you reach up slowly and try to take the knife; surely enough, when you clutch at it, it disappears like smoke between your fingers, so you take his hand instead, still clenched unfeeling around his shattered illusion.

You pull his hand to your chest, letting him feel your racing heart flutter against his fingers.

Slowly but surely, you bring him back to you, his daze broken but his psyche bruised and bleeding.

Your shallow breathing evens out as the light returns to his eyes, and for a moment he looks at you confused as if his position above you is of your own making.

His eyes dart from his hand on your chest, to your fiercely fixed expression, attempting to soothe his nerves but unable to hide how shaken you are.

"Is this real?" He's still breathing hard, for someone who doesn't really need to breathe. "Are you really here? Is it you?"

He's so tender, tracing your cheekbones, your cupid's bow, gently raking your hair with his fingertips.

"Of course, beloved, I'm right here, I'm always right here." You try to hide your confusion, assuming he's still walking the line between dreaming and waking.

He slowly pulls himself away to nestle at your side, reluctant to break eye contact with you as he does so, still clutching at you to ground himself.

"What did I do? Tell me I didn't hurt you, love." He's so quiet, it's unnerving, but you take him in your arms anyway, crading his head to your chest.

"All is well, my love, it wasn't real, you're here with me, no one can touch you here." Some nights, holding him close and murmuring sweet reassurances in his ear is enough to soothe him; tonight he needs a little more from you.

All you want to do is tell him you love him, that he deserves you, that you're his, that he deserves everything you want to give him, that you ache for him when he's not by your side.

But he's hard against your hip, a fact you're trying to ignore; taking advantage of him is the last thing on your mind, not that he would protest, even when he returns to his right mind.

He listens to your heartbeat for a while, focusing on the strong rhythm to forget his waking nightmare, marvelling at how your heart beats in tandem to his, running his trembling fingers across your exposed skin, up your arm, across your collarbone to your throat, watching the artery jump in time with your heart. He knows you so well, so intimately, that when you notice his erection, your heart skips a beat, and he can guess exactly what you're thinking, not needing to peer into your mind for himself.

You feel him grind against you and you release a breath you didn't even realise you'd been holding.

"Love..." You murmur into his hair, absentmindedly running your fingers over the sensitive pointed tips of his ears. "Come now, you need to rest, darling."

He can't show you what he saw, what he went through, the horror and the agony of his master's worst torments. The image of you performing the worst of it is tattooed on his eyelids, a reminder of Morgoth's favourite form of punishment. He can't show you, can't tell you, but he can ask you to make him forget.

"I need you," he whispers in your ear, strangled groans peppering his sentiments, making you gasp, "need you to feel good, need you to know how much I adore you-"

Your eyes widen as blood rushes to your cheeks, the heat of his words enflaming your core.

"I want you too, love, but right now? Are you sure?" You ask him through ragged breath as he turns his attentions to your neck, licking and sucking and blowing cool air over your wet skin, before warming it with his tongue once more.

You're so close to giving in, wanting to give him all he craves and more, and he knows it.

"Use me," his breathy moan breaks on your skin like a wave on the shore, tingles washing down your spine, filling your core with empty warmth as he bucks his hips into yours, which respond in kind as you turn your head to meet his hungry kiss.

"I'm yours. Make me yours."

His words thrill you, but his tone makes you feel incredible; needy, wanton, desperate to please you.

You glide your hands over his torso, relishing in his hot velvet skin and the soft hair that covers him; taking your time as he tries to kiss you senseless, his heated skin glowing with sweat that you can't resist tasting for yourself, salt and smoke on your tongue.

"Use me... take me... love me..." he begs you, with less and less breath left in his lungs with each command, as you gently lay him on his back, straddling his thighs, grinding your core into the hard muscle.

You slide your hands between the layers of fabric separating your skin, stripping him slowly and laying him bare for your viewing pleasure alone.

He arches his back for you, baring his neck and thrusting his hips into the ghost of your touch, chanting your name and praying for you to take his aching cock in hand.

You trace the contours of his thighs, his firm abdominal muscles, the stiff peaks of his nipples, earning you a shudder and a moan that shoots straight to your core, hot wet arousal dripping onto his thigh.

His fingers move to gather your nectar instinctively, wanting to savour every taste of his wife, but you grip his wrist and raise it above his head, and he gasps. You've never denied him before, not in the eons you've adored him, but it turns him on beyond belief.

Sauron watches you hazily, through heavily lidded eyes, in disbelief that the goddess above him is his and his alone to enjoy and to ruin. You are a sight to behold, as your hair cascades down your back, lips parted and breath ragged; your breasts bounce as you ride his thigh, hypnotising him, drawing him deeper into your thrall.

He tries to lean up to kiss you, lave every inch of your skin with his desperate tongue, but you push him back to the bed.

"Not yet, soon but not yet." You want his mouth on you, the aching between your thighs only amplified by the distinct lack of your husband’s throbbing length inside you, but tonight is for him; he needs to surrender to you first.

"I don't think you've let go quite enough yet." Your warm breath breaks on his sensitive neck, washes down his spine, straight to his cock, throbbing in his need for you.

You haven't touched him yet, hands firmly in place on his chest; his eyes plead with you to be lenient, and as his loving wife, you're only too happy to oblige him as he continues to beg for all the care and attention you can give.

"Please, love, please, need you to-" he gasps as you run your fingers over the head of his cock, gathering the copious amounts of precum pooling on his stomach to ease the glide over his flesh.

"Is that better, love?" You can't help but smirk at his pained gasps, as you languidly stroke his shaft, circling the sensitive head with your thumb, your eyes locked on his.

His cock twitches in your hand as he moans your name, begs for release, begs for your cunt, begs to be remade.

"That's it, love, let yourself go. All you need to do is feel good for me, my love," you lean down, whispering in his ear, "please me, show me how much you deserve your release."

His breath hitches and you hear him swallow hard; his expression is a masterpiece, eyes wide, jaw slack, as he begs you to show him mercy, groaning and whimpering as you pump his length.

"Please..." It's only one syllable, but it feels like a lifetime as he chokes out his plea, tries to touch you to no avail as you hold his hands above his head, placing them in a death grip on the headboard.

"Please, what? You might need to be more specific, my darling." You edge down the bed, holding him in place as he tries to follow you, until your head rests on his thighs.

"Need you to... fuck!" He growls and curses and grips the headboard as his hips jerk and writhe to meet you.

"Need me to...? What, my sweet, tell me?" You are enjoying teasing him, perhaps a little too much, and you will pay for it later, but right now he's so deeply needy for your love and attention that he'll take whatever you bestow upon him.

"Touch me..." he groans, as his cock visibly throbs with need, "your fingers, your mouth, I don't care, I need you, you're the only one, only one who can make me feel like this..."

His pleas and whimpers cut off with a sharp gasp, as you take his cock in your mouth as deeply as you can manage. He feels the opening of your throat on his tip and loses his mind, his oversensitive flesh shooting stars up and down his spine, heat pooling in his abdomen that almost immediately spreads like wildfire throughout his body, as your fingers and tongue and lips work together like an orchestra, drawing an irresistible melody from the depths of his pitch black soul, and all the seed his cock can muster.

You pull away and let him spill himself over your thighs, your abdomen, your hands; he looks mortified but he can't stop now he's started, pearly white splattering your skin, making you his.

"I belong to you," he keens and stutters but you hear him through his orgasm, his whimpers becoming moans that reverberate through you.

You can only watch him adoringly as he finishes quaking and moaning beneath you, unable to quite believe that he is yours, even after all this time.

You sit up, licking him from your fingers, and your smile is so radiant, he forgets where he is, who he is, all the evil he has ever done. For one shining moment, it is just you and him, all he'd ever need.

"Proud of you, love, so good for me." You murmur as you lean down to kiss him softly, giving him that tiny confirmation of your affections he needs right now.

"...thank you, needed you. Ahh- Need you." He is grateful, oh so grateful, but his still-hard cock betrays him, and you can't help but grin.

"Oh love, did I not do a good enough job? Have I left you wanting?" Your faux sincerity pains him and he immediately starts apologising.

"No, no, not that, never that, always so good to me, my beautiful wife, love you so much, my sweet..." His cunt-drunk ramblings are adorable but you put a finger to his lips.

"It's okay, I know, I've got you," you smile at him; he returns it so radiantly, you have to kiss him, to be the one to destroy it.

His pretty moans flutter to your cunt, arousal dripping from you like honey from the hive, and he looks up at you, gloriously wide eyed, begging to be allowed to taste your nectar, to sate his thirst for you.

You can't help but feel absurdly powerful, a Maia fallen apart at your fingertips, never mind this Maia, this beautiful demon who vowed to never relinquish his control again. It's an honour and a privilege to see him submit to you like this, submit to himself like this, let himself just feel without exercising his need to dominate, to just let go with the one person in the world he knows he is truly free with.

"Please, my love... remake me, make me yours," His breathless plea is like no music the Valar have ever sung, his moans a spell all their own, enrapturing you even as you hold the key to his release, as you take command of the Maia who values his control of others above all else.

"I do believe, dearest, that you made quite the mess, actually, perhaps you'd be so kind?" You gesture to the cum that still drips down your thighs, sticky and uncomfortable and definitely ready to be washed from your skin.

He is only too happy to oblige.

You lie back and beckon him to you; he works his way up your body, methodically but no less desperately, licking up every drop to please you, content to savour every inch of you. When he tries to make a detour to your mound, you gently yank his hair, reminding him of his task, revelling in the absolute control he's given you.

"Oh love, you did make a mess," you moan as you stroke his hair, "so good for me, cleaning me up, such a good husband, always so good to me."

Receiving such praise is almost cruel and unusual for Sauron, who is frankly more used to giving it to you, and receiving wrath from all others. A tiny voice in his mind tells him he should be embarrassed; but what is worship if not praise? Your devotion, your care, your undivided attention; all for him, giving him that for which he yearns above all else.

He can't resist stealing a kiss, crashing his lips to yours as he cradles your face. You taste his seed on his lips, something that feels strangely forbidden, thrilling in its taboo. The aching in your core has only intensified with his efforts, and you feel it is about time he served you with his silver tongue in the way you both crave. You push his head to your cunt, with which he gladly complies, settling between your thighs, gripping your legs firmly apart to allow him to feast on you.

Before his tongue can delve into your folds, he holds back, locking his gaze on yours.

"Please? Let me taste you, let me show you how much I love you."

"Fuck, yes, love, yes," you chant his name as he finally puts his tongue to excellent use, seeking out your swollen clit, lapping at your entrance, sucking at the velvety skin of your inner thighs.

He keeps his hands in view; you haven't told him he can touch himself, and he won't break this spell now.

Like a starving man at a banquet, he indulges in you, exquisitely. Every tiny moan that escapes him vibrates over your folds, making you whimper in return; he flicks his tongue over your entrance before sliding two fingers deep inside you, hooking them and stroking that delicious sweet spot inside you that makes your toes curl. He watches you the whole time, basking in the chorus of your pleasure.

You feel the heat coil in your abdomen, and you pull him away sharply; his disappointment is evident but you want him inside you when you finally claim your orgasm.

"Lay back, love, hands on the headboard." It is intoxicating, having your husband obey your every command, and as he settles into the mattress, looking up at you expectantly, you vow this won't be the last time the two of you play this game.

Sitting astride him, you feel as if he's never been so deep inside your cunt before now. You hiss a little at the intrusion but he's so familiar, every time he enters you, it feels like coming home. You grind your hips into him, capturing with your lips every whimper that forces its way past his clenched teeth. Tracing his firm chest, running your fingers through the smattering of soft hair, feeling every curve and contour slowly, languidly, while he writhes beneath your thighs, caging him inside your wet heat.

His strangled moans and gasps echo throughout your chamber; every time he reaches for you, you press a kiss to his palm and hold it above his head, until he learns to behave.

"No one could love me like you, care for me like you, knows how to take their pleasure from me like you, beautiful wife, only yours." He feels like he's losing his mind, slipping further into some deep quiet space where it's just the two of you, where nothing matters but you on his cock.

"Only you can put me back together, can sing the song my soul yearns for-" you interrupt his pretty words with your fingers in his mouth.

"Hush, my love, focus on me, only me, you don't have to speak, you don't have to beg for me unless you want to, just let it happen." You trace the shell of his ear with your tongue, savouring the tiny sighs that escape him, before nipping the pointed tip and relishing his sharp moan.

"Bound together, you and I, for all eternity... and I wouldn't have it any other way, sweet husband." You groan out between thrusts, every movement within you the sweetest form of torture.

No other thrill in the world will ever compare this; your divine husband laid out beneath you, looking up at you with blissful wonder, eyes black with lust, golden hair mussed and tangled by your fingers, your name tumbling from his swollen lips like a prayer and a curse. Right now, you'd take either.

"Darling, please," his broken gasp spans an octave, jumping to a breathy moan as you descend on his cock once more.

"I know what you need, love," you moan as you ride him, the drag of his cock inside you fucking delicious, but the look on his face is a feast in comparison.

His eyes widen as he clutches the bedsheets, refusing to look away but requiring every iota of self-restraint to stay present with you, not to lose himself to the unearthly sensations you've introduced him to tonight.

"I've got you, just let it go, give yourself to me, beloved, let your mind empty-" you kiss him deeply and swallow the groan building in his chest.

"So proud of you, so good for me, doing so well," you let out a throaty moan as you clench your walls around him, feeling his cock throb within you.

"I know what you need..." You murmur as you lean over him, slowing the rhythm of your hips, "nothing in that head, cock wet and wanting, heart full and happy."

His ragged breath hitches as the last shred of self-control slips through his fingers. He thrusts up deep inside you, throbbing, aching to fill you, as you grab his hands and pull them to touch you finally, a precious relief to you both.

As he runs his hands up your bare skin, he kneads your soft flesh, worshipping every inch as if he's never beheld anything so perfect in his long life. His large hands encircle your abdomen, grasp your hips, pull your ass impossibly closer until you can't tell where you end and he begins; not that the distinction is important anymore.

He rests his hands on your back, fingers splayed as if to encompass you within his flesh, as if being wrapped around you, caged inside you, isn't enough contact, like the two of you enjoined in body and soul isn't enough, will never be enough to sate his hunger for you.

Finally, you let him lean up to join you, his torso flush with yours, gliding against you, slick with the sweat you've provoked in your teasing. He kisses you hard, tongue tangling with yours, teeth hungry, lips swollen, your breath mingling just as your souls are entwined, a maelstrom of pleasure in which you'd be happy to be imprisoned forever.

You brush back his soft hair, grip the roots, and pull his head back, bearing his throat to your greedy lips. You grind on his cock as you press harsh kisses, soft bites, to his tender flesh, laving his skin and savouring his moans under your tongue. He fucking whimpers under you, and you pull away to take him in, in all his ruined glory.

There are tears in his eyes, his lips wet and parted for your kiss; his expression is nothing like you've ever seen, so completely has he given himself to you and your pleasure.

You softly trace his throat before grasping him firmly, feeling every breath, every sob, every whimper, reverberating through you, inflaming every nerve in your body.

His Adam's apple bobs under your fingers, firm in your grip but tender in your passion. Tears spring unbidden to his eyes, falling down his glorious face and filling your heart with such love, such adoration, such utter and complete devotion, that it scares you for a moment, pushing you over the edge at last.

You clench around him, milking his sensitive cock for every last drop of seed, as you ride this new high, this indescribable feeling of power that his submission has wrought in you. You think if you could just hold onto that feeling-

"I feel it too-" his strangled moan is cut short, all the stars in the sky paling in comparison to the pleasure he feels beneath you right now.

You feel him paint your insides, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you until he is spent. Your foreheads pressed together, your limbs entangled, every breath shared in tandem; you would stay here forever. And he would gladly grant his goddess that wish, and any more that your heart desires.

You roll onto your side, limbs shaking with exertion, pulling him to join you, refusing to allow him exit from your wet heat. He huffs a small, relieved sigh, not wishing to be parted from you either.

His iron embrace never fails to comfort you, and it is especially firm tonight. Your heart swells at the thought that even after surrendering to you so entirely, so perfectly, he still needs to hold and shelter you, can't give up his role as your protector even at his most vulnerable.

"We should do that again, love." You murmur, feeling his smirk against your neck.

"Whatever you desire, my Queen," he peppers your neck with tender kisses, sensing you are close to sleep. "I am yours, you are mine-"

"And always will be." You interrupt with a sleepy smile, provoking a chuckle.

Sauron can only watch you enthralled, as you drift off, content, your limbs entwined with his, reluctant to follow you into sleep after tonight's events. Perhaps, yielding control is something he should master, he muses; after all, you did seem to be utterly delighted with the turn of events, and he is nothing if not a loving Lord, a devoted husband enthralled by his wife to distraction.

You slip into dreaming, holding onto him as if for dear life, relishing in the feeling of being so loved, so obeyed.

Your brain is empty, but your cunt is full, and your heart is happy.

[kaija-rayne-author]

Section 12 in review of Dragon Age Veilguard

96 Hours in, 94 hours playtime..

Obligatory disclaimer, feel free to jump to the cut if you've read it.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I'm on media blackout while I play this, so I'm only getting second-hand info on how awful it is right now in the DA Fandom. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though, every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

Spoilers for Dragon Age Veilguard (and other Dragon Age stuff, I'm a Lore fiend.)

Section 11 is here.

So, the whole Mourn watch section with the half Lich was very well written and put together. Had an interesting (if not difficult) puzzle and a poignant ending. Loved it.

Did the Treviso sequence where Illario gets his comeuppance. Even though it's a very stale plot idea, it was so very well written and executed (har har) that it's a shame they fired Lucanis's writer. (Mary Kirby wrote Lucanis.)

They probably should've kept her and let her write a lot more than that. The game would've been so much better. It might’ve actually approached good.

Instead of something that when my partner saw me loading it up he said 'wow, you look like you're about to be tortured'.

Rueful face. So much of this game has felt like torture that having two sections on the same day that were legitimately good is odd.

The ones with Taash in Rivain were fun or sad, depending. But still well written and put together.

Still seem to have more to do. Gonna play for a few more hours. It's rare and nice that it's actually curiosity I'm feeling while logging in tonight, vs. any of the gamut of yucky emotions this game has treated me to.

Oh! Before I forget and in the name of attempting to provide a fair review, I do really love the light puzzles and ancient elven tech stuff. That's been a great deal of fun.

There are good parts to this game, but they just don't make up for the shit.

...

A. Single. Meaningful. Glance. As an intimate scene? Fucking DAO had better than that! Are they serious? Is there more in the final sequence? Dear gods, if I'd paid for this game I'd be bloody furious. Incandescently, explosively furious.

Let's talk about consumer expectation. It's something anyone hoping to sell things has to be aware of.

In its, what, 14 year Dragon Age history? Bioware has set certain expectations with their market share. As I mentioned, DAO, while dated and with poor graphics, actually had something extremely suggestive for the intimate scenes. You had no doubt what the characters were doing. Same went for DA2. Not much actual nudity, but again, no bloody question about what was going on. In DAI, some was sweet, some was saucy, but it was even more clear what was happening.

So the expectation for a behind door scene that you got to see has been set. If there had always been fade to black meaningful stares for the intimate scenes, fine, whatever. But that has not been Bioware's history. And it certainly isn't their gaming market's expectation.

Expectation isn't as important in a standalone game. There's no weight of expectation like there is in series work. Unfortunately for everyone who bought this game, the expectation of so many years and so much material has been firmly set. And a long, searching, intense look doesn't cut it. Are all the Romances like that? I don't have the stomach to replay it that many times to find out.

I still have to finish the final sequence. So it's possible my utter disappointment will be fixed, but given the way Bioware has structured its games in the past, the Romance parts were finished before the final sequence.

My level of disappointment with this game has been high all along, but this is indeed the shit cherry on top of the shit sundae of this game.

Hah! And to think I'd actually hoped for an intimate scene between Solas and Inky! (Hysterical, breathless, cackling. OMFG.)

The problem with market expectation? And not meeting it? Is that you utterly lose the confidence and trust of the people who buy your stuff. And that means they're less likely to buy your stuff again. I certainly won't ever buy anything Bioware makes again. I'm out. I'll enjoy the previous games, but if I'm right about my predictions? Veilguard doesn't exist as part of my universe. I'll pretend it wasn’t ever made. Unless I decide to write a long fix-it fic. Because OMFG.

If, as an author, I shifted from rather explicit, panties-melting intimate scenes to closed door fade to black... I would be betraying my reader's expectations and losing their trust.

If this is it for the intimate scenes? Oh man. Bioware, you fucked up.

Pre-play pithy commentary

If you want to skip the snarky paragraph ^?

13th review here.

[pepperpixel]

-DECEPTICON COMMUNICATIONS AND INTELLIGENCE OFFICER, SOUNDWAVE-

OMGGGGG IM ACTUALLY POSTING A PIECE OF ART THAT I DREW, it’s a November miracle…. I’m drawing. And I finished something. I’m always drawing honestly it’s the finishing that’s rlly surprising lol. But anyway! Yeah! Everybody drawing cool humanformers stuff on twitter cuz of the movie got me inspired to draw some of my human soundwave… looking extra sneaky and spy like…. Lurking in the shadows w his cat… wanted to practice big shapes and bold colors… and I like it! I think it turned out good!

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever