#but next part will be getting more into the actual story

[egophiliac]

You think this will be THE last update for book 7.. or will there be more chapters q-q. (I'm totally not desperate for book 8 HAHHA)

I think we're gonna get at least one more chapter where we wrap back around to the Diasomnia boys (I have THEORIES!!!!), but I think 13 will probably be the last one! maybe also 14 as a short epilogue/setup for episode 8, depending on where they cut after we deal with Malleus. we are definitely approaching the endgame though! ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ the party is almost assembled...the light is at the end of the tunnel...it is almost time to go throw pies into Tsunotarou's silly face until he comes to his senses...

(disclaimer since I don't think they've actually officially confirmed that there's going to be an episode 8, that this is of course just me assuming that Grim's arc/whatever's going on with Crowley probably/various other wrapups are going to be a separate episode, and aren't gonna be folded into the absolute beast that has been episode 7. BUT it does make for a nice break point and makes sense thematically with Ramshackle being, like, the semi-official 8th dorm and all, so I think it's a pretty safe bet at this point!)

[lowlife-in-high-orbit]

that last addition has very similar energy to teenage me going on abt Goethe's "Faust" (tho teenage me obvs had extemely little clue abt anything compared to JRRT)

everybody was like, "this is classical literature, greatest German play of all times" and I was like, listen. it's fantasy. y'all can't just call this the "greatest work" and then diss the whole fucking genre in the next breath. like, it's got everything? a dissatisfied scholar getting into magic, a really fucked up romance, a straight-up murder, a bet with God... also there's a plot-relevant poodle. part two has fairies

the thing is, we get fed this story in school (in Germany) and most think it's one of those classics you gotta read bc the curriculum says so, but really it should be analyzed as the wild ride it is and not some pretentious "great lit" type thing so dry you can use it as dessicant just bc it's a play written in verse by a big-name author from centuries ago

TL;DR, some of that old literature is actually pretty damn rad and has more cool shit going on than you might think based on the sleep-inducing takes you might've seen abt it in school / university, and you should absolutely read more of this stuff

It’s easy to forget JRR Tolkien was a fairly prolific academic translator with an interest in early medieval literature and philology. It’s so inspiring that he found time to write The Hobbit while fighting for his life over Beowulf.

[darkmatilda]

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: two years ago, completely by accident, you helped catch a serial killer. now, as mysterious events start to pile up around you, you begin to suspect that someone is after you, seeking revenge. terrified, you're willing to do anything to save yourself—even if it means reaching out to your ex, who wants nothing more to do with you. 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: [these warnings only apply to part 3!] spencer reid x criminal(thief)female!reader, stalking, mention of dismembered bodies, serial killer targeting women, mention of abduction, decomposing body, violence, kidnapping, drowning, physical injuries 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.7

𝐚/𝐧: part 3 FINALLY!! thank u to everyone who has been here since the first part of this story. thank u andy @reidingandallthat for agreeing to appear here in the role you play. erika, darling, i apologize in advance 🫶🏼

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑

Driving in a car next to your ex, after practically throwing yourself at him and pressing a sudden, still somewhat incomprehensible kiss to his lips, was a little, let's say, awkward

You were heading to the apartment pinpointed by one of Spencer's team members, which allegedly belonged to Clinton Richardson, the man you suspected to be the previously elusive accomplice of The Waterside Butcher. Given how easily Garcia had tracked him down, you hadn’t expected to actually find him there. However, you had to search the place, find out anything more about him than the scant information Rosas had provided. Get inside his mind. Figure out where he might be hiding, where they were holding Rebekah.

In the silence that settled between the two of you, you tried to maintain a straight, dignified posture. To play it completely cool about what had happened. One simple thought helped you with that—maybe it had been your impulsive initiative, but it was fully picked up by Spencer.

The way he cupped your face as soon as he realized what was happening. The pressure of his lips on yours, hungry, insatiable, and unrelenting with time. A sigh when he pulled away, the confusion creeping into his soft eyes.

A gentle shake of his head, as if he was already starting to regret it.

You regretted it too. It only thickened the atmosphere, which was already sharp enough to cut with a knife. In your apartment, you had made a bet—the first person to find Richardson would get one of what you considered the most beautiful and genuine photos from your time together. After what had happened, however, you couldn’t imagine just handing it to him without a word, so you simply kept it in your jacket pocket.

There was still some way to go ahead of you, the heavy midday traffic causing terrible jams, and you could no longer bear the silence nor the unreadable, fixed expression on his face as he stared at the road.

"Well," you started, clearing your throat. It felt like he flinched at the sound of your voice. God, when did you both turn into such idiots? "Just to be clear, it wasn’t...personal. You know what I mean. Kind of like checking if your favorite dessert from an old favorite restaurant still tastes the same."

If it weren’t for the fact that he glanced at you for a moment, you would’ve slammed your forehead into the dashboard. It was one of the worst things you could have said, but well, you couldn’t take your words back now.

“Favorite dessert. Checking,” he repeated in a disbelieving tone. His eyebrows shot up high, and he looked back at the road. Only then did they fall, and he shook his head from side to side. There was a trace of amusement in that gesture. Well, at least he wasn’t angry about the choice of words. “Okay.”

Not knowing what to do with yourself, you pretended to examine your nails.

“And does it still taste good?” Spencer asked after a long pause.

“What?” You shifted, distracted in your seat.

“I’m asking if it still tastes good.”

You hesitated for a moment before answering, and then a laugh gathered in your chest, a burst of it you didn’t let out loud. Instead, you held back, offering only a brief smile, a flash of teeth. Spencer glanced at you from the corner of his eye, seeming less tense than before. Some things were probably easier for you to talk about in metaphors, even if they were simple ones.

“Well, it was favorite for a reason," you said after a moment, gently, though you tried to sound casual.

The photo in your pocket.

Spencer smiled in that subtle way, where only the corners of his lips moved, his eyes remaining unchanged, thoughtful. And with that, the stage of pretending it never happened began.

The apartment that was supposedly owned by your suspect was located in a fairly decent neighborhood—at least nicer than the one Rebekah lived in—which filled you with a bitter sense of injustice. After you dealt with the lock, you both stepped inside cautiously, scanning for any potential occupant, but the place was empty.

"Not exactly how I pictured the place of someone they call The Butcher in the media," you muttered, stepping lightly on the birchwood floor beneath the bright walls.

Spencer hesitated for a moment, that familiar analytical look crossing his face. You stopped a few steps from him, hands stiff on your hips, unable to stop watching him instead of the surroundings. The slight crease between his brows as he crossed the kitchen, probably already knowing what your unsub had for breakfast every Thursday, just from one greasy, barely noticeable stain on the wall. His lips pressed together, and you realized you couldn’t ignore that part of his face anymore. You sighed, annoyed with yourself. Seriously, now?

“Did you expect a torture chamber instead of a bedroom?” he asked as you both crossed the threshold into the room. It was less tidy than the rest of the place, a sign that he spent more time here. Some things were out of place, and there was a pile of loose papers building up on the desk.

While Spencer was analyzing the papers, you walked over to the window, squinting as the midday light hit your eyes. You gently traced your finger along the leaf of the plant on the windowsill before dipping your finger into the soil.

“It’s dry,” you noted briefly, suddenly focused. He must not have been here for a few days. “Damn, maybe my imagination is just really poor, but I can’t picture a guy who does that kind of thing to women calmly watering his plants every morning. It’s just...grotesque.”

He shrugged in response, Reid’s eyes never leaving the things on the desk.

“Lots of violent, serial offenders lead lives that we’d consider normal,” he began. A lecturer's expression, you thought to yourself immediately. You’d always liked it when he explained things to you—he was the only one who could do it in a way that didn’t make you feel dumb for not understanding a concept. And, well, you liked listening to him. “Well, we once had a case with a cannibal who had a bunch of teddy bears in his house,” he added. 

You couldn’t help but snort.

“Stuffed with human guts instead of fluff?”

Spencer finally looked up at you, slowly.

“No,” he replied shortly, raising an eyebrow. “They were perfectly normal teddy bears. And, you know, I’m starting to be glad that your criminal activities haven’t gone beyond robberies and theft.”

“And stolen goods trafficking.”

“Oh, right. Sorry for leaving out one of your...key specializations.”

“It’s fine. Got anything?”

You joined him in searching through the desk, standing so close that your shoulders brushed briefly. You told yourself it was only because you didn’t want to miss any clues.

“There are a few sketches here,” Spencer informed you, his chest rising slightly, which you noticed because he turned to face you sideways. There was barely a step between you. “They look a little...chaotic.”

You flipped open a random notebook, spotting the mentioned sketches—simple drawings and doodles. You kept flipping, not giving them much attention.

“Probably drew them when he didn’t know what to do with his hands during phone calls,” you said. You shrugged at his look. “I know, because I do the same.”

“I don’t recall ever seeing you do that,” he remarked.

When we lived together...the unfinished sentence hung in the air, settling lightly on your shoulders.

You took a deep breath.

“Well, back then, I was more into sending messages than having actual conversations,” you admitted, and it was true. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him slightly parting his lips, about to say something, when suddenly your gaze landed on something on the last page of the notebook you were flipping through. “Look, a phone number,” 

Spencer leaned in to take a closer look, tilting his head a bit, which brought his slightly too-long hair into your reach again. The familiar scent slowly drifted to your nose. Spencer probably didn’t even realize how close he’d gotten, too absorbed in his thoughts. Still, you couldn’t help but find it amusing. After all, just a few days ago, he had pointed a gun at you and kept the greatest distance possible.

He straightened up, and you noticed the change in his expression. You stayed perfectly still, not moving, not backing away. It might sound strange, but you wanted to see how you affected him. Would he have done what you did on the staircase if it hadn’t been for you? Did he genuinely want to do it too, or was it simply the conversation over the pictures that had lured you both into the trap of sentimentality, the nostalgic need to revisit an old dessert?

“You know this number?” you asked, surprised.

You hadn’t expected such a thing to happen, yet here it was. Spencer nodded.

“I remember it,” he admitted. At the same time, his voice carried a note of readiness, excitement about moving the investigation forward with this newly found clue... and an unexpected hint of awkwardness, as he briefly scratched his forehead before placing the notebook back on the desk. “It’s a brothel’s number.”

Your eyebrows shot up mockingly.

“You remember the number of a…”

“You have no idea how often the FBI uses their services,” he blurted defensively.

A beat of silence followed, then his eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant, for God’s sake. I mean, prostitutes often have a lot of information about different people and can be useful…”

“Tsss…” you silenced him with a playful swirl of your finger near his lips, amused by his rushed, nervous reaction.

Spencer glanced down at your finger, his lower lip jutting out slightly as if he wanted to add something, but his brilliant mind failed to produce anything coherent. Even if it had, you wouldn’t have cared.

You couldn’t let go of the topic anyway—you always enjoyed teasing him too much, loved seeing that faint blush color his stubbled cheeks.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, seriously.”

You had the strange feeling his gaze lingered a little too intently as you slowly swallowed, forcing you to cross your arms over your chest, creating a small barrier to keep your focus. You blinked slowly, mischievously.

“I’m not interested in where you sought comfort after our breakup.”

He literally gasped. 

“This is…” he began with a deep sigh, taking half a step back from you. “This is…I swear, this is the most narcissistic thing that has ever come out of your mouth. And there have been plenty.”

You gave a mock salute.

“See, I like breaking my own records,” you muttered.

Spencer’s gaze suddenly shifted from you back to the desk. He sighed, like he was grounding himself after drifting somewhere else.

“We should…we should call that number. Maybe set up a meeting. See if we can learn something more about him than the fact he doodles in the margins when he’s on the phone.”

You nodded in agreement, sliding your hands into the pockets of your jacket.

“Didn’t think I’d ever say this, but you’re right. Let’s meet your hooker.”

Spencer rolled his eyes.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Want me to dictate the number, or do you remember it?”

“I get the feeling you’re not letting this go anytime soon.”

“And you’re absolutely right, Spencer,” you agreed. “Absolutely right.”

*

“He made you do… what?!”

Your raised voice filled the car.

Quick recap—you’d managed to set up a meeting with a prostitute, whose services, after a few hours of digging, you’d confirmed Clinton Richardson had used. By now, it had gotten dark, and you were seriously starting to wonder if this wasn’t just a complete waste of time. You knew the rest of the BAU was busy searching for Rebekah using other methods, but the nagging feeling that you could be doing more refused to let go.

On top of that, the fact that Robert Miller had completely vanished since his escape from prison weighed heavily on you. No one had seen him filling up the stolen car at a gas station, wearing a baseball cap. No one had heard him break into a nearby house seeking shelter through the cold night. They must have had a plan—one that played out well beyond your reach.

Though you tried to push it away, a rising sense of dread filled you.

The escort slid into the backseat of the car, introducing herself briefly as Andy. Distracted by your own worries, you couldn't stop the words that escaped your mouth.

“Andy’s not exactly a very hooker-ish name”

The woman shrugged indifferently. She seemed only slightly tense about speaking with the cops (or, well, with one cop). She wore a light white fur coat draped over her shoulders, and, to put it plainly, she was stunningly beautiful. 

"Well, I didn't pick it," she shrugged.

"How old are you?" Spencer suddenly asked, turning slightly in his seat.

You exchanged a look. She did seem alarmingly young despite the heavy makeup on her face.

"Are you doing some kind of interview or what?" she scoffed. "Last I checked, you were supposed to ask me questions about one of my clients. So, I'm waiting. And for the record, I'm twenty-three."

You’d asked her the first few questions to confirm if the man she’d met was indeed Clinton Richardson. Garcia had even sent over his photo, and after a quick glance, Andy nodded, confirming it was him.

And now, back to where we left off.

“He made you do what?!”

Andy grimaced. You would’ve done the same if you weren’t absolutely stunned. You glanced sideways at Spencer, who had straightened up in his seat, his brows furrowed deeply as if he thought he’d misheard. Honestly, you’d thought the same at first. 

You drew in a deeper breath, trying to steady yourself. Spencer shot you a glance, his expression tense. There was no doubt anymore—this was the man you were looking for.

“Chop off chicken heads,” the woman repeated reluctantly, pulling her fur coat tighter around herself. A flicker of discomfort crossed her face—one that hadn’t been there the first time she’d mentioned it. Apparently, saying it again brought the memory into sharper focus, and you felt a pang of guilt for making her relive it. She sighed. “While he was mastrubating” 

Andy had nothing more to offer, no leads to help you track down his current location, and that realization sent a wave of frustration crashing over you. Not at her, of course, but at the fact that this case was moving forward at a painfully slow pace. Sure, you knew it was Richardson now. But what next? How were you supposed to find him before he and Robert hurt Rebekah?

You scrubbed a hand over your face, then clenched it into a fist to stop the trembling. Spencer's gaze dropped to your hand, and he tried to catch your eye, but you didn’t want that—not right now.

“Andy,” you called out just as she pushed the car door open, stopping her in her tracks. Your voice came out rough, an edge of desperation bleeding through. An impulsive decision bloomed in your mind, taking root before you could second-guess it. “We...took up some of your time. Would you have had a client during it?” 

The woman looked at you with a skeptical hesitation, unsure of what you meant.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Instead of saying anything else, you reached into your pocket for the cash you’d taken from your apartment and shoved it into her hand, her perfectly manicured nails catching the light. At first, her face remained neutral, but when she saw how many bills were stacked together, her eyes widened.

“You’re kidding me.”

“No. It’s for you. Payment for your help.”

“But this…” she started, meeting your gaze. You nodded seriously, confirming she could keep the money. Andy blinked, hesitated for a moment, then slipped it into her pocket before clearing her throat. “I…thank you. Seriously. It’s way more than I’d have made in that time. So... good luck finding that freak.”

“It’ll come in handy,” you muttered under your breath.

Andy closed the door behind her, and you followed her figure, wrapped in white fur, as it stood out against the night’s dark expanse. The interior of the car was filled with silence, the orange light from the overhead lamp casting shadows on both your faces. When you saw the grimace on the woman's face as she talked about Richardson, you immediately thought of Rebekah. About how her fate rested in the hands of the same man who had made Andy do things like that. You were also filled with sympathy for her, knowing she must have gone through it. She most likely didn’t have the option to refuse.

“It was a lot of money,” Spencer said after a long pause.

There was this heavy feeling of helplessness hanging in the air. What now? Where the hell were you supposed to go? Who else did you need to talk to? It hurt in your chest, and you sighed.

“Well, who knows,” you said, bitterly, not looking at him, your eyes on the windshield. “Who knows what’s gonna happen. That girl could really use the money. If something happens to me...it’d go to waste...”

You stopped, freezing when you felt a touch on your knee. A gentle pressure, filled with some kind of concern. You lowered your gaze, almost in a trance, watching his fingers spread out over the fabric of your pants, holding onto it.

“Don’t think like that,” he said, swallowing hard, his voice pleading.

You forced yourself to pull your gaze away from his hand and look straight into his eyes. He held your gaze, and there was something warm in it, something you almost wanted to sink into. You could have just nodded, let him take care of everything, let him protect you. But from the very beginning, you knew that wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You didn’t want to be just a passive part of the story, waiting meekly for the tragedy that was about to unfold. You wanted to stop it.

“Spencer, we’ve practically got nothing,” you said quietly, but there was a frustrated silence in your voice.

“That’s not true. We have...we have a profile.”

“We have Miller’s profile from two years ago, practically nothing new, and fragmentary info about Richardson. You can’t build a profile just from the fact that he had a prostitute decapitate chickens…”

“I can,” he interrupted with sudden confidence. His hand on your knee tightened, and he probably didn’t even realize it. You didn’t ask him to move it, even though the whole scene—the car, the night, his hand placed like that—was taking you back two years, to when all of this felt natural, a part of your everyday life together. You started to stop thinking about it with simple sentimentality. Since your kiss, there had been this indescribable longing you wanted to get rid of, but every interaction seemed to just intensify it.

Spencer took a breath before speaking slowly.

“Well, maybe not just based on the chickens... but we know so much about his childhood. He grew up across from the Millers, him, the poor kid. Dysfunctional parents, Joseph Miller was like a father figure to him. He had to respect him, idealize him, which is why he visited him recently when his condition worsened. His relationship with the rest of the Miller family… it had to be complicated with Robert. He was probably jealous of him, but because he was able to easily manipulate him, he never saw him as a threat. Robert, on the other hand, treated him like an older brother he never had, trusted him completely. So Richardson had his perfect picture after his parents died. A father, a younger brother, their shared sailing trips, the time spent together. The only thing that bothered him, the only thing he saw as a problem was...

“Robert Miller’s mother,” you finished, already seeing exactly what he was picturing in his mind. The pieces were falling into place, like the image on a puzzle box showing what it should look like when it’s put together. “Unlike her husband, she didn’t treat him like her son. She was part of all their trips, their cruises…during one of them, he pushed her off the boat. But why…”

“Robert took the fall for it,” Spencer answered the question you hadn’t asked, but one he could see had formed in your mind. “He did it to protect someone he saw as an older brother. They...they’re a classic example of a duo working together. One is clearly dominant, here, Richardson, and the other follows his lead, lets himself be manipulated. That’s Miller. And I think... I think...okay, these are just my assumptions...Richardson is responsible for all thirteen murders.”

For a moment, you went silent, furrowing your brow deeply.

“But...but you said you interrogated Miller. And you were sure he committed the murders.”

“Or he believed he committed them,” he added.

 You shook your head in confusion, waiting for him to explain.

“I don’t think this was a typical murder duo. They didn’t kill together. Richardson kept the women in Miller’s vacation house. When Miller was arrested, he wouldn’t turn over someone he thought of as a brother, so he took the blame. And over time, through manipulation, he started believing he’d actually committed the murders himself. Just like he believed he killed his own mother. That’s why the polygraph always showed he was telling the truth, why we thought he was the killer. All this time, he truly believed he was The Waterside Butcher—he was stuck in a deep delusion. Meanwhile, our real unsub was still out there.”

You sighed in admiration at how he connected all the dots. You knew he was a brilliant profiler, you knew it well, but you were still shocked at how one person could dive so deeply into the psychology of crime.

“I wanna kiss your brain,” you blurted out.

Spencer’s breathing came out in irregular bursts as he rattled off sentence after sentence without pause. After your words, he paused for a moment—a small, tired smile tugged at his lips.

“You're welcome,” he replied, then slowly easing his grip on your knee before pulling his hand back. He looked at you uncertainly, as if wondering what you made of his gesture. “Although, that would require a surgeon.”

The dry joke broke the tension, adding a strangely sweet awkwardness to the moment. You snorted.

“I’d manage,” you said, mentally giving yourself a little nudge on the forehead. “But you need to update your team about all this. You have to pass on the profile.”

Spencer nodded in agreement. You could feel the air between you cool slightly—as if a splash of cold water had just run under your shirts on an unbearably hot day. With the same hand that had been on your knee, he reached for his phone, though he didn’t dial a number immediately.

“It’s pretty late,” he began, nodding toward the cars outside the window—as if you hadn’t noticed it was night. Well, you had, for a moment, forgotten. “No offense, but you look exhausted. You should probably get some sleep. I’m just wondering…do you have somewhere to stay? You shouldn’t be sleeping there alone.”

He put an emphasis on the word sleeping. It’s one thing to stay there fully awake, weapon in hand, but quite another to let yourself fall into that vulnerable state of unconsciousness.

You slowly shrugged your shoulders.

“I’d probably rather go back there,” you admitted, even though the idea didn’t really appeal to you. You sighed, and his face twisted in confusion. “You know, I have a lot of neighbors. And a lot of women, too. I’m afraid one of them might run into him…if he came for me.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to talk you out of it—he even opened his mouth, only to close it almost immediately. It was hard to argue with that.

“Alright,” he said slowly, turning his phone in his hand. “But in that case, let me stay with you.”

A surprised sound escaped your mouth.

"Seriously? You want that?"

"I just don't want anything to happen to you."

You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink in your own apartment, yet you still felt a hint of hesitation. Things had already taken a wild turn that day—everything was changing. The verbal barbs between you weren’t laced with resentment anymore; they’d turned into a playful game that often ended in genuine bursts of laughter and smiles. You’d literally kissed. He’d touched your leg, shown care. And now, on top of it all, you were going to spend the night in the same apartment. Quite an odd situation for two exes.

The direction all this was heading remained somewhat unclear. You were so preoccupied with the case—the murderer hot on your heels—that you barely considered what would happen when it all came to an end. How would you say goodbye once more before both of you returned to your separate, opposing lives?

Spencer noticed your hesitation. His jaw clenched ever so slightly as his mind worked on a way to convince you—but he didn't really need to. As a criminal, you often thought about the consequences of your actions. You saw them clearly, analyzed every detail. Yet even the clearest vision of those consequences rarely stopped you from carrying out your plans. After all, if it did, you wouldn’t last long in this line of work.

You nodded in agreement, allowing him to stay with you.

*

You knew how it would play out.

First, you'd both slowly cross the threshold of your apartment, arguing about who should sleep in the bedroom and who on the couch, but in the end, you'd both end up side by side on the couch, trying to keep the conversation light and casual, along with your body language, and a second later, you'd start kissing, letting go of everything that had been hanging between you all day.

It was really predictable. Which didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it.

“You know…” Spencer started when your lips gave him a chance to open his own. “I think there’s a certain question…” he was silenced. “...that we should both ask ourselves.”

“If it’s what are we? I’m leaving.”

"It's your apartment. Just saying."

"We’d be having a lot more fun if you shut up. Just saying."

With a soft sigh, you pulled away from him, moving your face just enough to be able to talk freely. But not enough to make him stop feeling threatened by the prospect of you shutting him up at any moment. Just saying.

"You wanted to ask about that, right?" you asked quietly.

He shrugged slightly, and because you were leaning against his chest, you felt that little shiver.

"Maybe in different words. But with the same general meaning."

With a thoughtful look, you ran your hand over the buttons of his burgundy shirt. Spencer followed the smooth motion of your hand with his eyes, gently tightening his grip around your waist. The position, the way your bodies were arranged, the closeness—it felt so natural. It was how it should be.

"Did you miss me?" you asked suddenly. "All those nearly two years."

"And you?" he shot the question back at you. You tilted your head, staring at him. You weren’t going to answer, not until he did first, though your answer wasn’t really dependent on his. You were honest with your feelings, even with yourself. Even if he said he hadn’t thought about you once or never missed you on the other side of the bed, it wouldn’t change the fact that you missed him. You’d had no trouble admitting before that, in some way, you'd always love him. "I missed you. How could I not?"

The soft question thrown into the space between you made you pout your bottom lip slightly. His gaze drifted to it briefly, but didn’t stay there—it landed somewhere else. A tiny spot just below your collarbone, a mark in the shape of the number pi. He leaned in to brush it with his lips, first briefly, then more deliberately, and you placed your hand in his slightly too long hair.

“I want to know what’s gonna happen with us when all this finally ends,” he muttered, his breath tickling your skin. You lifted your eyelids, which had fluttered shut in drowsiness and pleasure. “I missed you, that’s true, you missed me…I’d dare to bet that you did too. Correct me if I’m wrong. I don’t know…I just don’t know if that’s enough. For us…for it to work, something would have to change…”

Of course, he meant the different life paths you had chosen, your involvement in crime, your long-standing ties to the criminal underworld.

"Spencer," you said his name slowly, cupping his face in your hands so you could look into it. Okay, bad move. His brown eyes made it harder to focus. "It’s...it’s not that simple, you know that. It’s practically my whole life." You paused, swallowing. "I can’t think about it right now. Not with everything going on. My mind...I just can’t tell you anything right now. Except that I want you."

For a moment, he hesitated to answer, a sigh escaping from his chest. It sounded disappointed.

“I want you too,” he admitted, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, a statement that applies to every possible case with no exceptions. “Exactly like I did back then. And you know it wasn’t enough.”

You pressed your lips together.

“I know.”

For a moment, you both just stared at each other, neither of you moving in any way. The silence was overwhelming, making your breaths perfectly audible. You felt tired of everything that had been happening—not just around you in the last few days, but also inside your head. You needed... you probably just needed to rest your head on his chest, inhale his scent, think seriously about the two of you, then step outside for fresh air and reconsider it, sober. Then compare both conclusions. The corners of your mouth trembled. You wanted to suggest you both just lie down and sleep when his phone rang.

“They need me,” he explained when the call ended, rising from the couch, detaching himself from your body. You nodded in understanding. But he didn’t head for the door. Instead, he paused, staring at you. “You shouldn’t stay here…”

“I’ll find a hotel,” you cut him off. He raised his eyebrows, clearly not convinced by the idea.

“I won’t get a wink of sleep here, and I’m exhausted. I’ll make sure no one’s following me. Trust me, if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s that,” you snorted softly.

Of course, you were a little worried about your neighbors' safety, but you couldn’t figure out a way to protect both them and yourself. Part of you wanted to stay inside, fueled by caffeine with a loaded gun in hand, waiting for the moment someone tried to mess with the lock. But you didn’t even mention that to Spencer—you knew exactly how he’d react. Not a chance.

He pulled you into one last, lingering embrace before leaving. It seemed like an unspoken agreement to temporarily abandon the topic of what would happen between you two later.

Reluctantly, you made your way to the bedroom. The last time you’d been there, you’d taken almost all the cash hidden in the photo album, which you later gave to Andy. A few bills still remained between the pages—just enough for a night in some hotel and a cup of coffee. You snapped the album shut, but one of the photos slipped out, drifting down like a leaf on the wind, sliding under the dresser.

You sighed. You felt too exhausted to even bend down for it, but after an internal struggle, you finally gave in. First, you dropped to your knees, then sprawled flat on your stomach to reach under the furniture and retrieve it. But as soon as your face got close to the floor…you noticed a strange smell.

Faint, yet distinct. You thought it might be a figment of your imagination, but after inhaling a few more times, you were certain. Sickly sweet in a way, unfamiliar, but it reminded you of an odd mix of rotting meat, damp earth…maybe even mold?

Ignoring the photo, you got to your feet. The smell was coming from your elderly neighbor Erika’s apartment. You realized you hadn’t seen her in a while—not even heard her poodle barking, which was usually relentless with its evening performances. Dark thoughts raced through your mind. She had a bad hip—maybe she’d fallen…

Before you even realized it, you were pulling on your jacket.

The door wasn’t even locked, which only heightened your sense of foreboding.

“Mrs. Hemingway?” you called out, stepping cautiously into the apartment. The hallway was dark, but a yellow light glowed from an old-fashioned chandelier in the living room. You quickly corrected yourself. “I mean, Erika? Are you here?”

The smell had become unbearable. A wave of nausea hit you, doubling you over, but your head remained upright—you couldn’t tear your eyes away from what you saw.

Right next to a long beige leather couch lay a rolled-up light-colored rug. There were dark, bloodstained patches scattered across it, but that wasn’t the worst part.  The worst part was the head, not wrapped in the rug. Your neighbor’s eyes were wide open and empty. Black earrings still dangled from her ears—you didn’t know why you fixated on them. Maybe your brain was starting to short-circuit, latching onto odd details instead of focusing on what it should.

Like the sound of footsteps right behind you.

You heard them too late.

There was no time to turn around before something struck the back of your head with brutal force.

It wasn’t like in the movies—it didn’t knock you out. The blow was too weak, too unskilled. It only sent you crashing to your knees, from which you desperately tried to push yourself back up, feeling your heart pounding furiously in your chest. But you were too dazed, your skull filled with a deafening roar, just before it absorbed another hit—this time stronger, harder.

As you collapsed unconscious to the ground, a shadow of a male figure hung above you.

*

The buzz.

A slowly forming image before you. Its small fragments connecting in incorrect combinations, as if someone were trying to piece together two mismatched puzzles.

The pain in your head.

Oh, it was terrible.

It intensified when you tried to open your eyes, so you spent a long moment in darkness, even though your body was slowly beginning to wake. You tried to press your hand to your temple, to massage it, perhaps to ease that furious pounding...when you realized you couldn't.

You opened your eyes despite the head-splitting pain, as if someone had driven a spike into it.

You were in a dimly lit room that reeked of wood and blood. It made you nauseous, and it wasn’t just because of the injury you’d sustained. At least, not entirely.

Fighting the bitter taste of vomit gathering in your throat, you began to look around the interior. Made of light-colored boards, small, with only one window covered. It resembled more of a cabin than a house, the furniture inside arranged in a way that could give an interior designer a heart attack. A rust-covered fridge stood right in the middle of the room. The floor was covered with a blue tarp that rustled with every movement of your body. The place looked as if someone had built it by hand.

Eventually, your gaze landed on your hands, chained tightly to the wall, causing pain in your wrists. You were half sitting, half lying on the floor, unable to move much. At first, you were too confused to feel fear.

Terror only hit you when you glanced to the side.

"Rebekah," you barely managed to say.

She was sitting next to you, tied to the wall in the same way you had found her in Miller's basement two years ago. Her head was lowered, eyes closed, and you prayed she'd look at you. That would mean she was alive…

She did, but very slowly, and you felt no relief at all. Her hair hung in greasy tangles on her face, her lip looked swollen, and her cheek was covered with blood trickling from a wound on her temple.

Rebekah opened her parched lips, but said nothing. She simply let her head drop again.

"Rebekah, listen to me," you begged in a hoarse tone, instinctively trying to get closer to her, but of course, you couldn't. You started to frantically look around once more. You were searching for your captors, searching for a way out. There had to be one. "Listen to me... you have to focus, I'm here, together we can figure something out..."

"You're here," a weak grunt came from the woman. "Finally. At least now it will end."

You didn't quite understand the meaning of her words, but you sensed some hidden depth to them that you decided to ignore. Instead, you nodded affirmatively. Bad idea. The pain intensified.

“Yes. That's right. Now it will end, we'll escape. You have to tell me everything you know. Where are they? When will they return..."

She grunted again.

"No," she simply said. You could barely hear her rough, quiet voice. "It will end because you're here. He was waiting for you, and now, finally, he will kill us." There was a strange, suffering longing in her voice. The prospect of impending relief lightened her face. Suddenly, though, a brief sob overtook her frail body. "Just like those other women..."

"You're wrong," a male voice cut in suddenly, making you flinch. Rebekah didn't even move. Focused on the conversation, you didn't notice the tall man dressed in a black hoodie and cap approaching.

Instinctively, you pressed yourself back into the wall. You hated your own body for showing fear, even though it was completely understandable in that situation. Before you stood Clinton Richardson. You recognized his face with the unevenly trimmed beard. Before you stood real The Waterside Butcher.

“This way, I'll only kill you,” he said in a neutral tone, staring at Rebekah with an odd look, as though she were the least interesting thing in the world to him. He didn’t blink. Not once. Slowly, his gaze shifted to you, and only then did his expression change ever so slightly, seeming more present in his own body. The corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ve got something else prepared for you.”

Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. Sometimes you’d talk to Spencer about his work, sometimes you simply listened to his long monologues with your chin resting on your hand. Did he ever tell you what to do in a situation like this? How to talk to a full-fledged psychopath?

His voice began to echo in your head, gently calming you. You took a deep breath.

“Clinton...” you began, in as soft a tone as you could manage, though your body screamed to rip those chains off the wall, lunge at him, and wrap them around his neck. That desire only grew when you remembered poor, innocent, murdered Erika. You had to close your eyes to get rid of that image.

“Shut up,” he snapped, cutting you off.

A man entered the cabin through the narrow door. You had already met him personally, though the two years he’d spent in prison had significantly changed his face. His features had become sharper, his head shaved clean. When the door opened for a brief moment, you noticed… water. Since it must have been the middle of the night, the moonlight gently shimmered on its surface. The cabin had been placed right on the edge of some kind of water source.

“Take her to the boat,” Clinton ordered, not specifying exactly who he meant.

Your body knew, though. It tensed uneasily, then frantically, as Robert Miller moved toward you. At first, you tried to fight back, kicking, but he immobilized your legs. He reached into the pocket of his fleece jacket and pulled out cable ties. After freeing you from the chains, he used them to try to restrain your hands again. Surprisingly…ineptly.

“Stop playing with her,” the second man growled, crouching next to Rebekah, lifting her chin to examine her battered face. “Hit her, she’ll stop struggling.”

Robert followed the order.

Holding your restrained hands tightly, he dragged you like a slaughtered animal. Your jacket and the clothes beneath it pulled up, and your bare skin unpleasantly scraped against the tarp material, causing abrasions. You hissed as your cheek brushed against the wooden platform outside. Before the cabin door closed, you threw one last terrified glance toward Rebekah, huddled against the wall.

Robert decided it would be easier to do it this way. He threw your body over his shoulder, despite your protests and last desperate jerks, and in just a few steps, he tossed you into the small motorboat by the lake’s edge. You collapsed onto it heavily, wincing from the pain and the ringing in your head. You exhaled through clenched teeth. You didn't know what force kept you from simply going numb, waiting for whatever was coming. What force made you keep fighting.

“Robert, you don’t have to do this,” you tried weakly, trying to make it sound like anything but a sob. You felt powerless, but you knew that this was the weak point of the duo. This was where you had to strike. “Robert...I know it wasn’t you who committed those murders.”

“It was me.”

“No, it wasn’t you. It was Clinton, you just took the blame. You believed you did it. You still believe it. He manipulated you, you have to see that...”

You stopped when he aimed the gun at you.

“Robert,” you said again, though you knew how risky that had become. You could barely force your mouth to open, but you knew it was your only chance. “I know you didn’t kill your mother.”

The hand holding the gun trembled. So, his mother was the weak spot.

“You’re lying. I...I pushed her out of the boat…”

“Why the hell are you even talking to her?” Clinton joined you in the boat, rolling his eyes. He looked at your hunched form with some contempt, and you tried to straighten up, holding onto whatever dignity you had left in these final moments.

As the engine of the boat roared to life and it began drifting farther out, toward the center of the lake, you started to doubt you would ever get out of this.

You sat still, staring at the two men. Clinton had his arms crossed over his chest, seeming to relax, his eyes taking in the surface of the lake. He even closed his eyelids, as if meditating. You noticed he wasn't carrying a gun.

You caught Robert's gaze, tilting your head to the side.

Please. 

He blinked, as if trying to focus. To keep his thoughts from drifting away. He looked into your eyes once more, for a long moment. Suddenly, it seemed like he was looking through you. His eyes registered your battered body, but his mind saw another woman, one who had also drowned in the lake. The woman he had loved. The woman who had been his mother.

“Here,” Clinton muttered under his breath.

Robert quickly stopped looking at you.

“Do it,” Richardson said to him. “Come on. Get rid of her, get rid of the problem.”

 But Robert didn’t move. Your breath caught in your chest, a flicker of hope.

“She’s the reason you ended up in prison,” Clinton reminded him, emphasizing she. “Get rid of the problem, brother.”

When he still didn't move, Clinton grabbed you by your clothes and lifted you to a standing position, holding you so tightly by the shoulders that he must have left marks. In that moment, you could no longer feel fear.

"Fine, I'll do it myself," Clinton sighed, pushing you closer to the edge of the boat.

You twisted your neck to glance at Robert one last time. In the hand that hung at his side, he still held the gun, his grip uncertain and nervous.

“If he were your brother, he wouldn't have killed your mother,” you said loudly, no longer caring about the consequences. “Was she a problem to you too?”

The body of the man holding you tensed even more, this time in... unease.

“Robert…” he began, dragging out the syllables of his name. Hearing the fear in his voice gave you a sense of fulfillment. You felt like you needed to experience it before you died. You lifted your gaze to the night sky above, to the stars and the moon. These were the things you wanted to see before your body sank into the abyss. “Robert, no—”

Several gunshots rang out, all aimed at the boat’s deck. He wanted to drown them all. Clinton released you and lunged at his partner. A struggle over the weapon broke out between the men, everything rocking dangerously, sparking as water began filling the boat.

You looked at them one last time. Clinton yanked the gun from Robert's hand and shoved him aside. He didn’t manage to aim it at you, though he tried. You saw his eyes searching for your face. Though you were in the middle of the lake, your hands were bound, and you couldn’t swim... you leaned over the side of the boat.

The bullet pierced the water’s surface just next to where your body fell.

When it hit the water, for a moment, you felt free. No one could reach you there; the cold of the lake protected you, surrounding you like a shield. A rush of adrenaline urged you to move your arms, to push yourself to the surface, to swim toward the shore. It wasn’t far, you could swim. But you couldn’t do it. Your hands were tied.

You began to sink.

*

Water burst from your lungs.

The first thing you felt was that your hands were free. Then the piercing cold, sending your whole body into a tremor. Then the stabbing pain in your chest, but you slowly stopped caring about what you felt. It didn’t matter. What mattered was what you saw.

Around you, blue and red lights of police cars flickered, reflecting off the surface of the lake where you lay. A man with dark skin, performing CPR, pulled away when you finally took a breath, his sharp gaze scanning your condition. He had just quickly checked your pulse when someone almost shoved between you.

“Derek, I need a thermal blanket,” Spencer said, kneeling in front of you. His gaze was frantic, only locking on yours when you made eye contact. You wanted to say something, but all you could do was cough. “Quick. She's shaking.”

You pressed your hands to your chest, waiting for the coughing fit to pass. You didn’t help yourself, still trying to say something, not tearing your gaze away from Spencer. You couldn’t. It was all too unreal. A harsh sound escaped your lips.

“Hey, take it easy,” he said, as gently as he could. His voice was soft and weak, and you heard him swallow with relief as he carefully placed his hands on your shoulders, just resting them there. Trying to understand that you were even there. Alive. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“You found me,” you finally managed to say.

Spencer nodded eagerly. 

“I did,” he admitted. Suddenly, he furrowed his brow, as if in disbelief. Without caring about your soaked clothes, you pressed yourself against him, burying your injured cheek in his chest. You felt his heavy sigh. “I-I did,” he mumbled. 

You probably shouldn’t have heard those words, but he pulled you so close that they grazed the shell of your ear.

Around you, people were moving, busy with the aftermath. The investigation didn't end with your rescue; the night wouldn't quiet down. They had to follow procedures, secure the scene, get inside the cabin where you'd been held...

Like being jolted by electricity, you pulled away from Spencer. The fear on your face mirrored in his eyes.

"Rebekah..."

"She's alive," he reassured you immediately. Your shoulders dropped, and an unidentified sound of relief escaped your lips. "They didn’t have time to do anything to her. They planned to after they…" He trailed off, shaking his head slightly. "She's alive. They drowned."

For the first time, your gaze shifted towards the dark waters, hiding its secrets.

"Both of them?" you asked, needing to be sure.

Your breath began to quicken again, unease taking hold. Spencer gently reached for your cheek, guiding your attention back to him, away from the lake.

"Both," he confirmed. He stood still for a moment, watching you with those dark eyes, his concern echoing with every shiver that ran through your freezing body. Once again, he didn’t care about your soaked clothes, pulling you tightly into his arms.

You closed your eyes as his chin rested on top of your head.

"You’re safe now."

*

In the ambulance, they attended to your injuries.

Everything that was happening reached you through a haze. They told you to lie down, but you didn’t want to. It was only someone’s soft, familiar voice that convinced you. You felt a bit pitiful, lying on your back. You wanted to get back up, to return to normalcy after everything that had happened. But when you tried to move, Spencer turned his head slightly, silently instructing you to lie back down. There was an undeniable firmness in his gesture.

Both of his hands held one of yours, enclosing it tightly, like a shell around a pearl.

They told you it was okay to sleep, but you were a bit afraid. You feared that when you closed your eyes, all the warmth would fade, and you'd find yourself back in the icy depths of the lake. Every time you felt yourself drifting away, you squeezed Spencer’s hand tighter. You turned your head slightly to look at him, and he gave you a small smile.

“Spencer,” you murmured suddenly, a hint of worry in your voice.

“What’s wrong?”

Then, something came to your mind. You reached into the pocket of your jacket, where you had the photo you promised to give him. The water had ruined it completely; all you had now was a white, torn piece of paper instead of the image of his hand gently holding your cheek as he placed a kiss on it.

“I’m sorry. I know you wanted it…”

Spencer took the remains of the photo from you, glanced at it without much interest, then crumpled it up. Surprised, you furrowed your brows.

“We’ll take more,” he assured you lightly.

For a moment, you just stared at him in silence. Did that mean…?

“Really?”

“We’ll take hundreds of them.”

taglist: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony @heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella @re1dsb1xch @trulymadlydarling @cynbx @penelopegarciaismygf @awordsmith @witchfromsalem666 @i-padfootblack-things @honestlyloving @fromsaltandsea @kwonhoeshi @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sleepysongbirdsings

[4thwallbreakerdraws2]

SUBMISSIONS ARE NOW CLOSED!

A big thanks to everyone who submitted their characters!

So…

WHAT’S NEXT?

Well, first of all I will now go to work on those group drawings I promised! Hopefully I will manage to get those done within a few weeks, since I’ve already been working on sketches!

2. After that is done we will get to the actual tour! After much thinking I’ve decided that it will become a reblog chain in the form of a choose-your-path story!

How it will work:

[MORE DETAILS WILL COME WHEN WE GET TO THIS PART!!]

I will post the start of the tour over on @rtv-puzzlevision-studios. This is to keep everything organized.

I will narrate the story with art, as well as writing and put a poll at the end of each post. You as a group can then vote in the poll to decide what your characters should do next!

You are more than welcome to draw character interactions throughout all this, however I ask of you not to draw something that will contradict the results of the poll. Examples:

✅ You draw your character eating snacks or discussing with another OC. ❌You draw your character leaving the room even though the poll result was that the group stays in the room.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - I'm Late But Who Cares?

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Jan 2025 Week 5

Ongoing Series - Thai

Your Sky (Sun iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - Oh no my babies are in trouble! I actually don’t mind the coming out being part of the conflict, it’s rare to see these days, but it was more common in early BL. This show feels like such a throwback Thai BL anyway, that it’s sort of goes with the story. Of course it was conflict that was resolved almost immediately. But honestly I’m so charmed by the show I don’t mind any of this.

ThamePo (Fri YT) ep 8 of 12 - still enjoying but annoyed by Jun. I’m glad everybody’s feelings have been made clear, Iun is too much a little shit for the way he went about it. The hand holding was very cute tho. 

Truer words! When a character reveals the entire plot of a show.

The Boy Next World (Sun IQIYI) ep 4 of 10 - Phu’s friends are the best. I love them so much. Still cautiously enjoying this.

The Heart Killers (Weds Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - Why are Kant’s pants always too short in this show? Meanwhile, the plot progresses as expected. But it’s OK. I’m enjoying it enough. I like that Kant, who is slightly evil, is willing to go even more evil for the man he loves. It was a twist I was not expecting. I believe it less with Style. Oh my, have we turned into a caper all of a sudden? Huh. This was a good episode. But then I do like a caper.

I’m also gonna mention briefly that I see you Heart Killers for using old tropes in a new way. The bleacher shot (Lovesick callback), the empty pool. Very very clever.

Fourever You (Thurs YT) ep 17 end - Nice solid ending I remain more interested in the couples we never got but i hope we get a season 2. 

Conclusion

A standard university Thai BL centering around two couples (med student meets engineering youth) in two parts (chasing the forever dragon that is 2 Moons). This was watchable but not much more than that with nice optics. Best if you can get hold of the extended (sexy) version especially for the second couple. 8/10 

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT) ep 14 of 24 - Wine is totally getting the "good one." Faifa (hands-down my favorite character in the series) is the master of the sarcastic ja particle. He’s very clever with it. Pay attention if particles in Thai interest you. I don’t understand why Yotha it’s so special that everybody’s willing to cater to his erratic whims.

(Am I the only one who thinks that Book and Santa should lead a BL together?)

Sangmin Dinneaw (Sun iQIYI) ep 5 of 10 - This is such an odd show. But it was a very nice kiss. And more.  And I love the boy admiring his marks after. Nice touch.

Flirt Milk (Sat YT) ep 2 or 10 - everyone behaves like a complete idiot and it’s driving me nuts.

Ossan‘s Love Thailand (Mon YouTube) ep 4 of 12 - I dislike most of the characters in this show, but I truly loathe the daughter character.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

When it Rains it Pours (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - I continue to enjoy this more every week, and I’m really looking forward to next week. (Shocker.)

Eternal Butler (Taiwan Fri Gaga) eps 8 of 12 - no ep this week, Happy New Year! 

Impression of Youth (Taiwan Weds Viki) eps 4 of 9 - It’s modestly enjoyable but of all the relationships I think I like the brothers the best. I mostly have a smile on my face when I watch it, but so far it’s eminently forgettable. To the point where I occasionally forget to watch it when it airs. That said it looks like next week we’re getting very Taiwanese. 

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 17 of ?? - sigh

It's airing but......

I Will Turn Back Time (China Gaga) 6 eps - It’s Chinese, no idea if it will end well or not. But it’s the stepbrothers trope. Still, I’m not gonna watch it until it’s done.

In Case You Missed it

Winter Is Not The Death of Summer (Thai) - It's done. Spies reported in the following: Not recommend. "Lots of awkward silence and muddled story. Abrupt ending. Doesn't lean into either the romance or the prison aspect." So yeah, I'm leaving it a DNF.

End of year wraps are here!

2024 Trend Report

MY BEST & WORST BLs of 2024

Best Kisses (and sex scenes) of 2024

BL's 2024 Quirky Awards

2024 Awards - Quick Picks

Next Week Looks Like This:

*** Yeah we already in it and my calendar is a complete mess, so no visual for you. ***

On now: FC Soldout (Korea iQIYI) 8eps - sports BL, football player meets actor.

2/14 Exclusive Love (Taiwan Gaga) - Shy aspiring singer inherits funeral business.

2/27 Secret Relationships (Korea iQIYI) - Stars Wei's Kim Jun Seo. Adapted by Cradle Studio (Kakao). About clever and resourceful Daon who has worked hard to overcome being poor. His cheap ways annoy his coworker, Sunghyeon but after “an incident” with his parents, Daon grows closer to him. But Daon also has feelings for his former tutor. This has the signs of a classic Kdrama all over it: Office setting, love triangle, lead suffering for his self-actualization. I’m optimistic about a longer treatment.

2025 Line Up

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 1

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 2

20 BLs Announced for 2025 That I'm Really Excited About

GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT

Best line in BL history? Possibly

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

[thornethenorn]

I wanna hear all the fun facts about the norn then pretty please

Okie dokie hehe

1. It's assumed that there is a spirit of the wild for every animal that exists, not just the ones we hear about. This leaves room for a lot of original spirits for people to make

2. They produce a lot of body heat, and this is likely why they don't cover up in cold environments- they would overheat. I made a whole post about this you can find in my Biology of Tyria tag.

3. The Kodan believe that norn are descendants of Kodan who didn't listen to Koda and went south. This is likely not true.

4. The lowland Kodan call norn "Children of the Bitter Wind"

5. They're shapeshifters. It's not acknowledged enough that they're literally a race of shapeshifters.

6. They also have an AVERAGE hight of 9ft tall. They can be way taller than that, probably.

7. They don't sleep in beds. They don't have mattresses, just piles of furs and blankets. They also will sleep on the floor.

8. Skaalds are bards, yes, but anet literally just took the actual Norse word for 'singer/bard/poet" and added an a.

9. Speaking of which, Hoelbrak means "hall of noise" in old Norse, but in-game, it means "lowland" in the norn's native language.

10. The norn's native language is canonically mostly lost, but it can be infered that its writing system, described as runes, are similar to elder futhark runes. In old Norse, elder futhark was the writing system and alphabet. Old Norse was mostly a spoken language, but occasionally could use the runes as writing. The runes also had individual meanings and were used for divination.

11. They were forced out of their native home and have been for 200 years. Even after killing Jormag the corruption still makes the far Shiverpeaks uninhabitable.

12. Norn and Jotun used to be some of the most powerful magic weilders in Tyria.

13. I call them the viking furries race as a joke but honestly they're more like the normal scandanavians. This isn't really a fact about norn this is actually your monthly PSA that vikings were from literally ONE part of scandanavia and the history of this region is so much more nuanced than just "those guys with cool pirates"

14. They're anets least favorite race of the main five (next to Asura free my guys Asura mains) and if I have to write the rest of their lore on my own I will

15. Also the norn and Asura have a lot of parallels that should be explored more often. Both pushed out of their homes and given half-written lore that we're begging to be completed

16. Norn live up to 120 naturally. However, almost nobody ever lives this long because of their culture. They constantly try to top themselves and push themselves too hard and die to 'hold my beer' moments and that's sad

17. Norn women die so often in the story. The fact Arina survived getting thrown into Nayos is a miracle

18. They're named after the Norse version of the Fates. The Nornir (singular being norn) in Norse myth were the three goddesses that sat at the base of Yggdrasil and spun threads of fate. While they can be depicted as hags, they are also sometimes depicted as maidens. This works for the norn race because their culture is insanely intertwined with the concept of fate and destiny.

19. They're not human. Anet are cowards for not doubling down on that. Norn should've had pointed ears and fangs and slit pupils and I will die on this hill

20. There's a stereotype of norn being dumb muscle that only drink and hunt but fuck you all they're nuanced and perfect and I love them

Now we're not even getting into my headcanons either so...

[sufferu]

~ You Know!!! For your ficlet idea for Julius sitting on Subaru and forcing him to concede and cry and say he's not a knight. This could be a pretty interesting alternate route for you to use your OTHER idea of:

“Subaru begging for mercy before Julius was satisfied with the duel and therefore he plans to force him to work ask as a servant for the next three years.”

Like it would be so villainous and insane and the worst part would be that the Emilia and her camp agree with it!

Emilia BTZ I: Your a disgrace Subaru. Did you really think someone as pathetic as you could ever be MY knight! Ha! Get real! And on top of that you have the nerve to humiliate me in front of the entire kingdom! Enjoy being Julius's slave. Have a nice life.

Emilia BTZ II: I didn't mean any of that, but at the same time I don't want you to get hurt. Please for your sake stay with Julius and the Anastasia camp. They will protect you better then I ever could.

Julius BTZ I: What a low beast. How revolting. It seems like I'll have to show you your proper place in this world DOG! You can be my practice dummy and while your at it why don't you shine my shows like a good little servant...

Julius BTZ II: I know I was a little mean to Subaru, but now that he can't be a knight and is in my care, I'll make sure to watch over him with my life! This could actually be pretty fun! I'll spare with him, let him play with my spirits and show him how to properly use his gates. And maybe tease my 'little servant' from time to time. Heh.

Anastasia BTZ I: (Laughs in Ojou-sama) Guess Julius-kun found himself a little pet. How adorable. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I train you to be a good little mutt ohohohho ~

Anastasia BTZ II: Subaru has suffered more then any person should. This cannot stand. Since Julius and I managed to take him from Emilia, I'll make sure to TEACH him to behave himself like a functioning member of society. It won't be easy and I'll have to be hard on him every now and again But one way or another he'll learn not to run headfirst into danger or taunt a Sin Archbishop or pet dangerous rabbits. Natsuki Subaru will be SAFE!

Subaru: Proceeds to SUFFER and have a terrible time 100x more then he ever did in canon or main BTZ. lmao

Like we'd just be just speed running this thing. This man ain't lasting three years lol.

I like the way you think! :D

One small correction: in this version of events, Anastasia wouldn’t be able to rely on the “Subaru now owes Julius a debt” story because Subaru only surrendered after like a full half-hour of Julius loudly ordering him to just give up already, for fuck’s sake. INSTEAD, she’s got the much more convincing argument of “Lady Crusch is literally planning to go fight the White Whale in five days, and also my knight just managed to subdue Subaru while also diffusing all the lethal tension aimed his way, all in an — albeit humiliating — but fully nonviolent fashion. Let us take him in instead.” And then Subaru ends up as Julius’ servant because Julius knows Subaru a lot better than anyone else in the Anastasia Camp, and also making him someone’s subordinate is a very convenient way to keep him under control.

I think I’d also like to add another layer to Anastasia’s whole deal, speaking of. Namely:

BTZ I Anastasia: Oh, look, you broke that very expensive vase. I guess that means I’m adding more time to your sentence. You’re never going to make up for all the damage you’re causing all of us, you useless piece of junk.

BTZ II Anastasia: Subaru, you don’t have to worry about your security in our camp, we’ve already made up our minds about keeping you with us until the Witch Cult has been taken care of. The whole “payment” thing is genuinely just a convenient excuse so that nobody asks any questions. You accidentally breaking that vase — or anything else you manage to mess up — none of that is going to result in us throwing you out on the street. It’s alright, calm down.

Also, in addition to your notes on Emilia, Julius, and Anastasia, consider:

BTZ I Ricardo: Why did Julius drag this useless stray into our camp? I am not at all happy with this worthless newcomer. You better stay out of our way and just — hole up where nobody can see you, or I’ll beat you bloody.

BTZ II Ricardo: As a fellow father, I am going to do everything within my power to do right by Subaru’s dad and keep Subaru safely out of harm’s way. If I have to make him a little afraid of me in order to get him to listen to good sense, then so be it.

BTZ I Pearlbatons: We’re a bunch of children and we’re still more competent than Subaru is, isn’t that funny? Also, we enjoy torturing him when nobody is looking for basically no reason, and he can’t tell anyone because nobody would believe HIM over US~

BTZ II Pearlbatons: Subaru is here!! Lady Anastasia managed to convince the other camps to let him stay with us! We’ve got to be at our absolute best to make sure nobody takes him away. Also, it’s really fun to play pranks on him, he’s always so noisy—

BTZ I Royal Knights: We all remember that duel between Julius and Subaru as one of the most laughably pathetic things we’ve ever seen in our lives. It’s become a running joke that we keep referencing and now it’s spread as an idiom throughout half the kingdom. Subaru is never going to live that humiliation down.

BTZ II Royal Knights: That fucker lasted a full half-hour. Subaru went up in a duel against Julius that was so one-sided that he literally ended up being sat on at the very start of it and he lasted a full half-hour. I would have just thrown in the towel after five minutes. Now every time we’re talking about someone with an absurd amount of determination in the face of odds entirely stacked against them, we pretty much have to reference that whole event. He might not be a knight but I kind of HAVE to respect Subaru after that display. …And also worry slightly, because if he displayed that level of tenacity against a witch cultist instead of just turning tail and running he’d be turned into paste pretty quickly.

Also — and this is the really funny part — this version of BTZ would end up being WAAAY better for Subaru in the long term lmao. Becuase you’re absolutely right: he’s not making it through three full years without cracking, not THIS time. It’s just too much, too fast, with too few carrots to push him to keep up the act. And that means everyone else would figure out that he’s miserable a LOT sooner. Like — I’m gonna say this whole thing lasts two months.

(And the breaking point would look significantly different than canon!BTZ, but I can’t spoil that too much…)

[slimybeth69]

Que Será, Será: Part 9

Rating: Explicit- Smut, violence, drinking/drug use. MDNI!!

Summary: It's almost twenty years after some weird outbreak almost happened but the CDC took care of that...Now you're living in Austin, Texas as an adult.What happens when you meet Joel Miller who hasn't been hardened and ruined by twenty years of murder and loss?Warnings/Tags: DaddyDom!Joel/ you. no use of y/n. No physical description of the reader besides one tattoo. Reader has a background story. Drinking/drug use. Slow burn. Smut. Angst. Cheating. Graphic depictions of violence. Eventual loss of virginity. Use of nicknames/pet names (lil girl, baby girl.) DD/lg dynamics. BDSM play.

Unbeta'ed. WIP. Cross-posting from my Ao3.Chapter

Warnings: drinkings, bar fights, reader gets injured, Joel is a DICK. SMUT!! SO MUCH!!! IT'S HAPPENING EVERYONE. IT'S HAPPENING.

It’s been two weeks since your little drinking, spanking, shopping and swapping shenanigans. Joel (your boyfriend) has spent the night at least…nine or ten times and each time he brings you something. Four times it was flowers, another time he brought dinner. The next night he brought you sex toys. Real sex toys and didn’t even ask to watch you use them. Just left them on your bedside table before he left for work and then kissed you goodbye while you slept. 

He doesn’t ask you to come over after you said you feel bad about leaving your brand new cat. Who is…perfect and sweet. She is a snuggly baby and just wants love and scratches. She looooves Joel. Meows at him all the time and he acts annoyed by it but you know he loves it. He’s so nice and sweet to her. Picks her up and puts her in his lap when he thinks you aren’t looking. He just wants to pet her and be nice to her. 

It’s going to be awkward if and when Sam and Cody ever come home. Another grown man…older than both of them sleeping in their basement? Awesome. Sam–if she ever gets better– is going to lose her mind that this man is twenty years older than you. She’s also going to have a sarcastic mouth and say something about him being old enough to be your dad and… Joel doesn’t like that very much. Not at all, actually. So. 

You guys get it…more than you would think. People are just openly telling you and your dad to have a great day. Enjoy your meal. Have fun. Why are people okay with outwardly assuming the older gentleman you’re with is your dad? Huh? Weird. Joel does not let go of your hand or your ass everywhere you go because he hates it so much. It’s been a struggle.

But not enough to make him not wanna see you anymore.

Joel is taking you to the bar tonight to meet Tommy, his brother. Your boyfriend (never gets old) told you that you’ve probably seen Tommy before. He comes into the store too. You're racking your brain of every man who has ever come through your line before. Ones that look like Joel? None. Maybe. You dunno. You see so many guys all day long. 

Tommy recognizes you though. Sure does. 

“You rejected me a couple months ago.” Tommy snickers softly as he shakes your hand. “But you’ll date my asshole older  brother? I see. I see you.” Tommy gives you the universal – index and middle fingers pointed at his eye then to yours– motion that says ‘I see you’. It’s fine. You do not care. Joel is your type and Tommy is no Joel. 

Tommy is alright though. You’re shocked you turned him down as you all sat at a booth near the back of the bar with drinks. His hair is longer, shoulder length and darker than Joel’s. Mustache and a goatee. He never asked for your number… He’s lying. Maybe. 

“You like Austin?” Tommy sips on his beer after he asks. 

“It’s alright. I liked living in Jersey. I didn’t really wanna move. It was just hard finding a job up there…but it was just as hard down here.” You snort and take a sip of your drink as Joel relaxes. He said in the car he was sore and he needed a massage later. You would give him one in hopes he would fuck you. He still hasn’t. It’s fine. You’re not upset about it. 

“Hardware store treat you good? Joel told me ‘bout your truck and your computer. Sucks. Sorry.” Tommy seems like a nice guy. 

“They’re nice to me. Give me the same schedule that I like. Don’t make me work late. I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it.” You shrug your shoulders. “Do you like working with Joel?” You feel a gentle and slow moving hand on your bare thigh, Joel’s hand under the skirt of your sundress.. A comforting touch. 

“S’alright. All I’ve ever done. I started right after I graduated high school— did that early.” Tommy smiles at himself proudly. 

“That’s fuckin’ cool. Did you do any night classes or anything like that to go to college smarty pants?” You tease him nicely. He chuckles and shakes his head. 

“Nooo. Stayed here and just worked for this miserable fuck. Probably will for the rest of his life.” Tommy jokes and Joel rolls his eyes. 

“I’m fuckin’ retiring soon. Fuck that shit. You take over. You do this shit.” He grumbles and sips his beer. 

“I’ll take over, shiiit. Been waiting to hear those words.” Tommy shakes his head in a sense of disbelief and excitement and is smiling. It’s a cute brother interaction and it’s good to see that they’re close. Tommy doesn’t actually hate him you don’t think. So that’s good. Joel is moving his hand all up and down your leg and moving it in towards your inner thigh, squeezing you tightly with his rough fingers. 

“I’m thinkin’ next year or two. Nothin’ too long.” Joel sounds reassuring to Tommy. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Tommy rolls his eyes and finishes his beer. “Y’all want another?” You and Joel both say yes and as soon as Tommy is out of earshot, Joel leans in and whispers in your ear. 

“Open your legs.” Then he kisses you on the cheek and leans back against the booth. You open your legs slowly and Joel doesn’t tease or anything, he's inside your panties and he slides one thick, stiff finger through your folds, pulls his hand from under your dress and offers his finger that was just trailing up your other set of lips. You open your mouth and he smears your juices on your tongue, withdraws his finger and then sucks it clean with his mouth. “Close ‘em.” Joel nudges your knee with his under the table and you snap them shut as Tommy walks up. 

They start to talk and you have no time to talk to him about what he just did. In public! Indecency!! Getting arrested?? He had scared you in the parking lot when he said you could get arrested!! No thank you. Your back is sweating from that. Kinda hot… 

“Hey,” Joel nudges you with his elbow and drags you back to the bar and out of fucking thinking about becoming a registered offender for Joel. You’re being spoken to and not responding. Tommy is asking you something. 

“Did you go to school?” 

“Um, for a little bit and then I found a job I loved and didn’t wanna go. Wasn’t going…” You chuckle that last part nervously. “Partied a little and just would sleep through class. Wasting money.” You shrug your shoulders. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you but you don’t look up at him. 

“Damn. I went to a couple of college parties. Fuckin’ pretty wild shit happenin’ there.” Tommy is doing nothing to help your case. 

“Dumb shit.” You snort and avoid the quizzical eyes that that are being given to you by your boyfriend. You left out the parties when he asked. Dunno why you said anything tonight. Idiot. 

“Hell yeah. Saw some wild shit…” Tommy’s eyes are flicking between you and Joel and he’s smirking. “Your man over there know what kinda wild shit you was gettin’ into?” He snickers into his beer glass. 

“I wasn’t getting into any wild shit. Just drinking too much.” You roll your eyes and finally look up at Joel who is just… lookin’ at you. “I wasn’t gettin’ into wild shit!” You exclaim and he smirks. 

“Sure.” Then he goes back to talking to Tommy. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back” You stand to go to the bathroom after letting Joel know and try and find it in this maze of a bar. You find it a minute later. You look nice tonight. Did your make up all pretty and actually did something pretty with your hair. You're happily looking at yourself in the mirror and two girls walk in– pretty girls. They look at you. You look at them. It’s quiet for two seconds. 

“I love your dress!” One of them exclaims excitedly. They fawn over your simple navy blue dress. It’s knee length. Nothing fancy but they hype you up in the bathroom and make you feel so nice. What a good drunk girl bathroom experience. You’re on cloud nine walking back to the booth when chaos erupts beside you at the bar. You have no time to scramble away before the tall bar chairs are being knocked over and hitting you in the legs. It hurts! People start shouting–

“Fuck you– stupid fucking pussy bitch. You won’t do shit. You fucking wont”

“Fuckin’ lets go outside. Fight me outside pussy. One-on-one. Me n’ you, fucker.” 

They do not wait and are throwing punches so quickly and moving so fast. You are overtaken by them and do not even realize what is happening as you take elbows and maybe a fuckin’ fist to the eye!? What was that!? Jeeeesus that hurt– whatever the fuck it was– but it doesn’t stop! They are fighting and now more people from the bar are jumping in to fight or break it up. 

Soft, small hands are on yours and pulling you out of the way but someone falls and breaks your grip and now you’re stumbling backwards towards more fighting men and now, fighting women. They aren’t asking who is involved. Just throwing punches and you take one to the left tit and someone kicks you in the back of the thigh!! What the fuck!! Now, you’re mad and you are also fucking punching and kicking people. What the fuck!? Who just doesn’t let the girls get outta the way first??? 

One of the two original guys is on the ground, and he definitely hit you or elbowed you (on accident, but still). You give him two good stomps to the shoulder for whatever he did to you and then… you get a real punch to the face. The fist is big, feels like a boulder against your skull. There is so much force behind it. You're stunned. One that sends you into tunnel vision and it’s blurry and you’re in pain. Real pain. None of that other shit hurt like this. Hoooly shit. Your eye is on fire. It might have fucking fallen out. Jeeeeus. You're stumbling away, almost falling down to the ground. More people are on top of you. You are fighting them off of you. 

You're trying to stand up in this mob of people and your hand gets stepped on and it hurts. Your dress is all hiked up to your stomach. The bar floor is sticky and there are hands on you. Not even trying to be groping or touching you the way they are, they're just as desperate to get out of this sea of hot, sweating bodies. Finally, you're on your knees and someone pushes you forward into someone another girl. You've never seen her before, and now the eye that hurt before it's stinging and you can barely see out of it. You see out of your good eye that she is getting ready to fight you for slamming into her, she has her first cocked back but you beat her to it, you slam your closed fist right between her eyes and now, the hand that has been stepped on and now punched into someones skull-- sends fire to your brain. More new pain as you push yourself to your feet while still being all jostled around.

More small, soft, girly hands are on yours immediately pulling you out of the way. It’s one of the girls from the bathroom. She is all messed up too, her hair and make up. Missing one of her fake eyelashes. Over her shoulder you have just enough time to see Joel with his hand around the throat of some guy, you hope the one who hit you and is pinning him to the wooden bar. Joel’s other fist is cocked back and he sends it forward. You can’t watch but you can hear it. Hear his fist connecting with that guy’s face. 

Fuck. Your face hurts real bad. Guy’s hands are on you but you already know they are not Joel’s so you start to push them off you angrily but Tommy’s voice is in your ear.

“Joel wants me to get you out of here.” Tommy is shouting over the commotion and noise and the screaming. It’s so loud. You’re still wincing as the guy Joel is holding to the bar starts to fight back. Tommy is leading you out of the bar through the fire exit and an alarm goes off but outside it’s finally… not chaos. 

“Shit! You okay!?” Tommy takes your face in his hands and inspects your eye. There is a comfort behind his touch that brings tears to your eyes before he brings ones of pain to them!

“I’m fine. It just— shit! Don’t fuckin' touch it!” You snap at him when he runs his hand over whatever is causing you pain. He pulls his hand away and there is blood on his thumb. “Is that my blood?!” You exclaim and bring one hand to your eye and the pain is coming from high on your upper lid near the outer edge of your brow. Stinging, burning and dull throbbing. Blood on your fingers!! You don’t have your purse or phone or anything. It’s all inside. Your hurt eye is still stinging. So bad. You have blood in your eye and it hurts! So badly! Where is your boyfriend!? Why is his brother taking care of you!? 

People come pouring out of the bar from every door. You and Tommy are looking for Joel for so long before he comes out of the bar… looking really angry. He’s got your bag, jacket and phone in his hand but he’s pointing at you accusingly shouting at you before he is even close enough for you to hear him but he keeps yelling until you can.

“Grow the fuck up!” He barks at you loudly. “Fightin’ at the bar? Really?!” He shouts at you and you’re so confused. As Joel gets closer, Tommy steps between the two of you like Joel… might do something if he didn’t. 

“I wasn’t fighting!!” You shout back at him. 

“I fuckin’ saw you!! Throwing fuckin’ fists! Ya fuckin’ serious!?” Joel is still pointing at you but over Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy keeps trying to talk to Joel who looks so fucking angry at you, but Joel keeps moving his head to see you. Joel has blood on his knuckles but his face is fucking fine so why is he yelling at you!? He was fighting too!

"You were fighting!! I saw you!!" You shout at him with more tears rolling down your face. Joel erupts-- pushing Tommy away, stumbling backwards until he regains his balance and get's between you and Joel again

"Beating up the fucker that pushed you!! For you to turn around and punch that fuckin' lady!" Joel screams at you. "She do that to you!? GOOD! S'whatchya get for fighting!" 

“A guy punched me–” You sob as tears roll down your cheeks, trying to explain yourself but he doesn’t let you finish. 

“Shut the fuck up! Grow—” Joel stops mid sentence and takes you in, really looks at you for the first time since he came outside. See's how badly you're beat  “A guy hit you!? Who!? Which fuckin’ one!?.” Joel is twisting his head around looking for whoever did it to you.

“Duh!!!! You fucking asshole!” You shout at him. “I don’t know who did it!! I got fucking punched in the face!!” You’re screaming a little and storm off towards his truck. You hear a scuffle behind you and look over your shoulder and now Tommy and Joel are fighting. Tommy is trying to get Joel to give you a minute, or Joel himself a minute to cool down. Joel is not letting it happen, shoving his brother in the chest, talking shit– being an asshole. You don’t even care if they fight. Fuck this. You keep going towards the truck until you hear the sound no one wants to hear. 

An expensive phone dropping on a hard surface. Pavement in this case. You close your eyes and keep walking because you already know it was yours and it’s probably broken and you can’t think about it. Won’t.You’re still sobbing as you get to Joel’s truck.

This night didn’t happen. 

Your face says a different story in the side mirror of Joel's truck. There is evidence that it did happen. You’re black and blue on your right eye and have an inch long laceration right below your eyebrow. Bleeding. Dripping down the side of your face– which is numb– and down your chin and onto your pretty dress. Your hand is all black and blue. You inspect the back of your thigh and it is also, black and blue. With a red shoe print right In the middle. You sob softly against the car and just want Joel to take you home and never talk to you again. 

The truck unlocks while you’re standing against the door. You open it before Joel has the chance to do it for you and climb in. You don’t even look at him when he gets in. He just sits next to you silently for so long. Feels like an hour of him just listening to you cry. 

“I'm sorry. Jus' slipped outta my hand. I’ll getchya a new one tomorrow. Better one.” He murmurs softly. “N’ I’m sorry fer’ yelling at you. Tellin' ya t'shup up.” He reaches over the console now to touch your shoulder but you pull away, still crying. “I am sorry. I was just mad n’ all fuckin’.. I dunno. Just...” 

“Just fuckin’ yellin' at me.” You sob. “I’m bleeding!” You turn to him and show him the blood on your face that he can clearly see. He nods and leans over the console to inspect it. You let him, let him touch your chin gently in his fingers to turn your head so you'll look at him. His other hand pulls the skin above your eyebrow up so he can inspect how deep the wound is. It hurts when he does that so you whimper and clench your eyes shut. He sucks his teeth softly and sadly. 

“I’m gonna take you to the hospital. Y'need stitches.” he leans in and steals a gentle kiss before you can stop him, you honestly, don't even want to. "I am sorry. So sorry." He murmurs against your lips with desperation in his tone. He has your blood on his cheek when he pulls away– and you mindlessly wipe it off with your thumb, and then feel fucking stupid for caring about that when he didn't care to begin with. "I really am.” He starts the truck and drives towards the emergency room. You say nothing.

You need six stitches. Joel is driving you home two hours later in silence. You don’t even have a phone to look at. Smashed to fuck. Because your boyfriend is an asshole. Neither one of you say anything until he pulls into your driveway. 

“So…I’m not leavin’...” Joel starts to explain, you try and argue with him but he narrows his eyes on yours and it silences you. “I had a lil plan fer’ tonight… n’ it looks like yer’ too mad at me for that to happen–” Joel is still talking but you don’t even really hear him. You speak over him. He keeps talking and you tune back into what he is saying. "--leavin'. I don't gotta sleep in yer' bed. I'll stay on the couch but we're talkin' 'bout this tomorrow. We have to. I gotta buy you a new phone..." He trails off shaking his head in shame for himself for acting the way he did. 

“You were gonna… fuck me tonight?” You scoff and squint your eye at him. The other one is a lil swollen. Joel nods and shrugs his shoulders.

“I thought it’d be fun, have a couple drinks… loosen up a lil. Fuck you all night. 'Cause I know ya really want it. Yer' excited for it. Not nervous n' shy.” Joel looks down at his hands as he speaks. 

“That an excuse to get you inside?” You ask softly. Joel shakes his head. 

“I been knew we were gon’ do this tonight. Couple days ago-- when we decided to have you meet Tommy.” Joel chuckles. “Fuckin’ shoulda just done it a long time ago.” He scoffs softly like he is annoyed with himself. “Was gon’ have you wear that lil white thang I got you. Was gonna fuckin'... defile you in that thang.” He turns his head to look at you and frowns. “I don’t wanna leave, Bird. I wanna talk 'bout it. Don't gotta do nothin'. Talk in the mornin'?” He pleads with you softly and quietly. 

“I don't need to talk about it. I have one thing to say." You look at him with the most honest, and innocent eyes you have because you are. You're a nice girl who doesn't fight at the bar. You want to be a good girl for him but, not if this is the kind of person he's going to be to you. "If you ever yell at me like that again…you’ll never get a chance to apologize for it. I mean it.” You snap at him and open the door to his truck and jump down. Your door isn’t even shut before Joel is beside you. He lets you lead him to the front door and watches you unlock it, his hands on your waist. 

“I’m sorry. I'll be better. I will.” Joel whispers in to your ear as he trawls his hands along your sides and over your stomach. Once the door is open, the front of one of his thighs press against the backs yours and he pushes your leg into the house slowly, and then does it with the other as he walks you into the entryway. “Sorry.” He whispers once more against the nape of your neck as his hands roam across the front of you. 

“I know.” You lean back against his chest and now he pulls you into him, kissing your skin softly. “I’m still mad though!” You pull away from him but he holds you against him and speaks quickly to stop your pushing and fighting hands on his arms around you.

“You should be.” It's spoken firmly against the crook of your neck and makes you stop fighting him. “I get.. I dunno– seein' you get pushed by that guy... I got fuckin' scared. N' then I turn around n' see you fighting? I got mad. Like an asshole-- I say shit I don’t mean.” He sounds ashamed. 

“S’why your wife left?” You ask sharply and are not even scared because if he gets mad again, he can fuckin’ leave. 

“Partially.” Joel sighs. “She was just as bad, Bird.” Joel holds his arms out from behind you and twists them in each direction so you can see all those scars. “Not from workin’.” Joel kisses your neck again and his warm breath feels staggered like he is nervous to be talkin’.

“She did this to you?” You whisper quietly in shock. 

“Fer’ three fuckin’ years.” He groans and then pulls his arms away. “I hate talkin’ ‘bout it, don’t fuckin’ wanna, really. What else you wanna know?” Joel sighs softly from behind you. 

“You ever hit her back?” You’re not sure you wanna know, but you kind of need to know. 

“Once.” Joel whispers and his body is gone from behind yours. You turn and he’s leaning against the front door with the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes. “Fuckin’... the night ‘fore she took off. We were fightin’, n’ she just wouldn’t let up.” He doesn’t remove his hands, sounds angry to be talking about it and is starting to speak a little more aggressively. “Non stop. All night. Scratchin’, wailin’ on me somethin’ fuckin’ terrible. Callin’ me a bad dad– been a dad for two weeks mind you, workin’ my ass off day in n’ out for those that lil girl n' that bitch who fuckin' hit me.” Joel finally rips his hands away from his eyes and is shaking his head, with an angry smile on his face. “I fuckin’ just… I dunno, lil tap on her mouth-- t’ shut her up. After three fuckin’ years of puttin’ up with it.” Joel tosses his hands in the air and puts his hand on the doorknob.

“Don’t go–” You try and stop him even though you are still mad at him. Those patterned scars on his arms? Her fucking fingernails and that's heartbreaking. Makes you so fucking sad that he put up with that for so long because he just wanted to be a dad.

“I need a fuckin' minute—” He says sharply. “I'm not takin’ my bullshit out on you– again.” Then he opens the door, steps out onto the porch and shuts the door behind him. 

What the hell is going on? 

You go to the basement because, poor Joel. Your battered and beaten– That fuckin’ bitch of an ex-wife of his better hope you never have to meet her. You’ll put your hands on her in ways Joel couldn’t. Sure fuckin’ will. You’re so mad thinking about it while you change out of your bloody dress and into that lil white lace thing Joel got you. 

You’re losing your virginity tonight. You don’t care what he says or if he wants to (you’re not gonna do that), you also don’t care that you have a black eye and a laceration with stitches. No. You’re going to fuck your boyfriend and make him less sad for having a terrible ex-wife that he— You gasp audibly even though no one is around to hear– thankfully. Joel is going to have to see her at his daughter's wedding. Stupid, man beatin’ bitch. Joel should have just left but… you’ve never been in an abusive relationship. So…you have no room to talk. You are going to fuck him. You're partially a little mad at him, mostly feel kinda bad that his wife used to hit him. Want him to remember how good n' tight your pussy is if he ever sees her again and gets sucked back into whatever bullshit she was dishing out that kept him around for so long. 

You're gonna do your damnedest to seduce your boyfriend and get him to fuck you. You need it more than he does honestly. You got punched in the face--- fuuck. Your PHONE!? You cannot even think about it because you'll lose all sense of feeling bad for him and go out there and spit on him not nicely. Okay. Sex with Joel. 

You’ll just be there for him if and when he comes inside to see you ready in bed. Splayed out so he can fucking use you if he needs to. You don't care. You cleaned up all the blood and honestly…ya don’t look half bad. You look sexy as hell in that lil white thang and your black eye. He won’t be able to resist. If he ever comes inside…he’s been out there for so long. 

It’s hard to not go inspecting when he’s out there for a half hour. Just sitting on one of the chairs on the porch. You could go outside. Sam and Cody’s house faces a giant field and has no neighbors across from them and it’s late. You’re fuckin’ in your lil white thing. Shit. Fuck. Doesn’t matter. He is your boyfriend and he is sad. You open the door and take a deep breath, getting ready to be almost naked outside. 

“Hi.” You stand with your feet together after you step out and turn to him. He doesn’t look up at you, just stares at his hands. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He grumbles to himself. “I just feel like an ass.” He still doesn’t look up. 

“I know. You should for what happened at the bar. But, we can talk another time about it. Come inside with me.” You feel like an ass to for being out here like this. Cody and Sam…have neighbors on either side of their house…so someone could fuckin’ see you. 

“I need another minute, babe. I'm so--” Joel turns his head to look at you and stops mid-sentence. “Woah.” He sighs softly. “Yer' like a pretty lil angel.” Joel smirks and his eyes trace every voluptuous curve of your body before his eyes find yours. “You want Daddy t’fuck you tonight– all night? S'why you put that on? For me?” He asks softly, turning his body in the chair, resting one elbow on the armrest. 

“Yes, Daddy.” You nod at him and he pushes himself out of the chair. 

“Where you want it?” He growls softly. “Out here?” Joel raises one eyebrow and you freeze in fear and start to panic but Joel smirks and takes three steps so he can be in front of you, turning you so your back is to the front door. “Get yer’ ass in that bed, right now.” His kisses are long and desperate as your hand searches for the doorknob that is somewhere on the door behind you. He finds it for you and leads you inside, downstairs and to the bed. 

There is a trail of his clothes from the front door to where he has you now. On your bed. Naked between your legs. Both of you are quivering and searching endlessly for more air as you’re reduced to a puddle as he slides his length over your cunt through that little triangle of white fabric that separates the two of you. 

“Might hurt a lil.” Joel whispers down to you as he rolls his hips into yours softly. He’s been doing this as he kisses you, teasing you with nibbling bottom lip kisses and naughty words for several minutes and now he’s is like hot steel between your legs. “I’m sorry if it does hurt at all. Imma go slow the first time as long as y’need me to.” He whispers as just the tips of your noses touch softly. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah..” You’re so fucking nervous and excited and feel like you’ll never catch your breath again. 

“I like bein’ this close to ya, but…I gotta watch.” Joel kisses you softly and leans back so he can look between your two bodies that meet right in the center. “Fuuuck.” Joel whispers to only himself as he grinds himself into you. “You wanna keep that sexy lil thong on? Don’t care?” Joel flicks his eyes up to yours as one of his strong hands slips into the delicate string on the side. 

“You gonna rip it?” You ask with a smirk. He nods silently. “Do it.” Joel purses his lips together and yanks the elastic from the triangle of fabric and then does the same thing with the other side- discarding it on the floor. 

Joel seems just as nervous as you as he wraps one fist around his throbbing length. He strokes himself a couple times as he kneels in front of you. It’s already so hard and… so big. Fuck. Okay. You got this. He’s not doing anything. Just looking at your pussy and his cock he’s stroking right above it. He’s breathing just as heavy as you are. 

“Ready?” Joel flicks his eyes up to yours and you nod. “Gimmie.” Joel taps your hips with his hand and you push your hips up as he reaches forward and grabs two pillows and puts them under your hips. When you set them down, you’re angled up to him. “Perfect.” 

The tip of his cock is so much hotter than you could have ever expected him to be. So fucking hot, it’s like it’s burning you as he traces the outside of your cunt with it. You’re staring at him– watching his cock tease your pussy and you cannot help but wonder who he is teasing more. Himself or you? 

“Fuck me, Daddy.” You whine softly, batting your eyelashes. Joel’s eyes flick up to yours and they are dark and a little scary and he’s got his brows pinched together softly. 

“Shut up, lil brat. Daddy’s doin’ something.” He growls at you, the one hand on your outer thigh strokes you gently and comfortingly as he speaks. Doesn’t grip you or spank you at all. He drops his eyes back down to your dripping center and he sighs softly. “M'Fuckin’...lookin at it. Shut th'fuck up.” He sighs much softer now as he pushes the head of his cock between your folds to drag it up and down the length of your slit. 

“You shut up.” You coo up to him softly, biting your bottom lip. Joel smirks, snorts softly and looks up at you. 

“You like bein’ a lil bratty, bitch?" Joel hisses this question at you angrily, "'Cause this old man fuckin’ loves it.” He smirks, leans down to kiss your forehead before pulling away to watch as he continues to torture you. “Fuckin’ tellin’ me t’shut up. Who’re you? A lil bitch.” Joel speaks softly as the tip of him reaches the entrance. “Fuuuck. Fuck. Okay. Ready? I’m gon’ go slow.” Joel’s eyes can’t leave where you two are about to be joined, honestly, neither can yours. 

“Yeah, please. Put it in me.” You whisper softly and make Joel sigh softly. 

“Say that again.” He demands quietly.

“Put it in me, Daddy. Please.” Your voice is trembling like you might fucking cry from the anticipation of all of this. Been almost close to two months of teasing and licking and fingers. You didn’t even use those toys he got you…not yet. You will. You didn’t want to put anything inside of you before him. 

Joel says nothing as he pushes the tip inside of you. That’s not bad. It goes in with no resistance. He pushes in a little further and there is stretching. A lot of it. Stretching you full. So tight. You close your eyes and let your head fall back. You breathe through that pinching and uncomfortable rasping— pulling inside of you. Pulling you apart. Your pussy was leaking and made it so easy for him to slip into you though, you didn’t resist him, your cunt accept him happily but it still was so full. 

You’re reduced to whimpering through your nose at the new mix of pleasure as the length of him slides across your spongy, raised patch for the first time. It’s…incredible. Fingers are awesome, and toys are cool. 

Joel’s cock is so unyielding, so fucking rigid and hot as it’s stretching you, but when it snakes across that good spot– it’s like silk, smooth and comforting asthe tip of him, or anything ever, kisses your cervix for the first time. It’s a jolt that snaps your eyes open and makes you squeak. Joel’s eyes snap up to yours as his dark patch of pubic hair and the patch right above your slit intermingle as he sinks into you. 

“Lil squeakin’ baby okay?” God the way he fucking talks to you should piss you off. It should make you so fucking mad. You should make him get off of you but you do not because you love it. Joel holds his hips into yours, pressed tightly against you as you adjust to him. Your muscles and walls are clenching and unclenching around him as he delays his pleasure for your comfort. Joel likes it though, you keep doing it even after your cunt stops doing it involuntarily. The tempo change in your squeezing him makes him pull back out of you slowly. 

How can someone be so incredibly soft and hard all at the same time? His whole body. All of it. Soft n’ hard. Fuck. You’re staring up at him while he watches the entire length of him reappear from the interior of you. You see it, your slickness on him, it’s fucking glistening on the throbbing veins and almost purple skin of him. 

“Jesus.” You sigh softly as he pulls everything but the tip from inside you. 

“Fuckin’ tight as hell. Holy shit.” Joel gasps like he had been holding his breath. You sigh and then are reduced to nothing but a moaning mess on the bed as he starts to thrust into you rhythmically. It’s slow and soft. Gentle as to not make you squeak too much, only a little. Your eyes are closed, he’s not telling you to open them. He is leaning over to take on your nipples in his mouth through the sheer, white lace of the bra. He wraps his lips around as much of your breast as he can, sucking it gently as his tongue laps and swirls around your sensitive peak. 

“Oh fu–uck! You can only speak harshly as that mix of pleasure and pain start to mix differently. More stretching and dull aching as his cock moves inside of you– but it’s not as intense or nearly as bad now that you have something constantly moving against that fucking spot. Fuck. He feels so good and warm– hot. He is red, hot steel under the satin, smooth skin of his throbbing dick. “Jeeeesus. Fuck ”

“You like this hard dick Daddy’s givin’ you?” He barks down to you softly, snaps it out of his mouth like you aren’t a melting mess below him. “Yeah you fuckin’ do, sexy fuckin’ brat.” Joel chuckles as a groan escapes his mouth. 

“Y-you like this– fuck– tight pussy– fuuucking god— your lil girl’s givin’ you?” You part choke the words out and then moan some of them. You’re interuppted with bliss as you try and use your voice for him. 

“My fuckin’ god.” Joel’s hips snap into yours— on accident or on purpose you’ll never know– but it feels like all of your bones buzzed all at the same time and every inch of your skin tickles for two seconds until he’s pulling himself away from your cervix and massaging that spot that’ll make you gush on him. You wonder in your euphoria filled brain if he’ll like that– you gushing on him like that and clench your walls down on him even tighter than you thought you could. 

Joel’s whole body jerks gently when you do that and he snaps himself forward again and buzzes your bones and tickles your skin again and it’s… not a terrible feeling. Definitely knew and something you’d have to get used to because when he does it you cannot think for a second after but when you regain your senses he’s already buzzin’ you again with the drooling tip of his cock. You want him to come inside you. Badly. You’ll be fine. It’s the twenty-first century. Emergency contraception works. But then you’re going on the pill so he can do it whenever the fuck he wants. 

“Come in…side me.” Your drawn out whimpering moan makes Joan groan loudly and he is trembling under your touch. You don’t even remember grabbing onto his biceps but you did, sometime during the buzzing you assume. Your fingernails are digging into him and you feel bad, so badly after knowing what you do, but he’s pumping into you quicker now. 

“Dear God.” Joel groans and closes his eyes tight. It feels so good making him do stuff like that. Hearing him moan your little pet name he made up for you. “You want it, Birdie?” His moans are deep and rumble like thunder when they come out of him. You can feel the vibrations from them in his arms. 

“Yeah… I want it…..Claim my pussy….I’m yours Daddy.” You’re keening the words up to him between gasps for air. Where did these high pitched sounds come from? You have never made such noises in your life…not even alone!! He is pushing them out of you as he thrusts inside of you but his sweating body is still trembling, like he is struggling… You think he wants to come, so you try and get him to. “Please Daddy…I beeee-oh fuck– I belong to you.” You whimper as he buzzes you once again. 

“How ya feelin’ Bird?” Joel groans and lets his head fall forward like he is exhausted. “Hu–Hurtin’ still?” He stutters as he withdraws from you slowly. 

“N-nononoo.” You whimper as he thrusts into once more and then holds himself against that blinding, body vibrating stop deep inside you. You’re silenced by this and staring up at him as he tilts his head up to look at you. 

“I gotta…” Joel hangs his head in shakes it in shame, panting softly. “I can’t anymore.” He is still panting and looking up at you again. 

“S-So c-come.” You stutter up to him as body and mind melting tremors course through you. 

“Not talkin’ ‘bout comin’ Birdie.” He adjusts his hands on the bed and rests for a second, wiping his sweat covered brow with the back of one of his hands. “Gotta while ‘fore I do that now…” He’s grinning down at you, his chest– also dripping sweat– is rising and falling as he tries to slow his puffing. “I gotta fuck ya.” He nods. 

“You are?” You can think… a little bit. Not much. 

“No. We’re makin’ love right now.” Joel admits with another shake of his head from side to side. “I wanna fuck you.” Joel nods now, up and down, quickly. “If ya can’t handle it… might gotta take a lil break.” He sighs. “Havin’ trouble controlin’ myself… don’t wanna hurt ya.” He sighs loudy and then hoots like he just has energy and sound inside of him he needs to expel. 

“Like… fuck me real hard?” You dunno. The buzzing. The buzzing is not terrible but it is a lot and he is still doing it right now. Pressing on that little button that lets you know he has arrived at your most inner location. 

“I’ll hold back a lil.” He reassures you but then adds. “Just gotta go harder’n this.” Joel sighs like he is disappointed with himself for having those needs inside of him but it’s kind of turning you on that he can’t control himself with you. Needs to take a break!? He is taking a break right now!

“You’ll stop–”

“Baaaaby.” Joel groans. “Don’t gotta ask. Of course.” He nods quickly. “Never fuckin’ hurt you. ‘Less you ask for it.” Joel snickers. “Then I will.” The tremors are turning into little itchy scratchies inside of you and not so much tickles and vibrations and alarms going off all over your whole body. No, this isn’t too bad. 

“Okay. Fuck me, Old man.” You nod up to him and Joel snickers to himself and leans all the way back so he is on his knees, holding you where your thighs meet your sides at your hip. Your legs are splayed out on either side of him. 

“You just give me a good whack right here–” Joel points to his forearm. “A good one. Don’t grab me, don’t tap. Whack me. I’ll stop n’ we can do it the other way.” He speaks firmly so you’re listing. You’re trying but, still twitching underneath him. He pulls his hips away from yours and you can relax. A deep sigh and almost– a feeling of being empty. Like you’re gaping now that he’s only at the entrance. “Whaddya got’a do?” Joel asks now, catching your watering eyes. 

“Whack.” You choke out after swallowing in a big, noisy gulp. You make Joel snort silently, just his body jerks softly and he smiles. 

“Yer’ pussy is fuckin immaculate, baby girl.” Joel sighs loudly and sinks his hips into yours. Your pubic hairs touch softly before he pulls away and then slams into you with a loud smack of his skin on your skin. 

“Jesus!” You exclaim but do not whack him because your whole body jolts back away from but then he is pulling you by where he has a grip dug into the soft skin on your lower sides where they dip into your leg. Another second long convulsion and flesh rippling titillation. Then another and another. More. It is endless. “Oh my go– Oh. Oh. Daddyyy.” You whine up to him with your eyes shut tight– your one eye hurts so bad but you do not care, the pleasure is everything you wanted it to be. This is amazing and perfect and you’re so glad it’s Joel. So glad he is the one doing this to you for the first time. “Th-Thank y-you.” You whimper as he really fucks you, his hips never slow down. Never cease their forceful driving into you. 

“Thank me again.” Joel barks an order to you through his pleasure. There is more sweat on his brow and he wipes it away with the back of his hand again and then grips you tighter. His chest is red and glistening as he focuses all of his energy and force on you. Right where your groins adjoin for half a second before he leaves and does it all over again. 

“Thank y-you Daddy Joel, fuck! Thank youthankyouu!!” There are tears in your eyes from the bumbling rapture inside of you. They’re rolling down the side of your face and…you might…be sobbing through your shrill, endless ululations as you tell him you’re coming. “It’s happening…. OH god… fuck Daddy… I’m gonna— I’m coming.” 

“Open yer’ fuckin’ eyes, lil girl.” Joel snaps down at you. “Open yer’ mouth.” You don’t even have to open your eyes to know that his mouth is pressed tightly together when he barks down at you. You manage to open them and look up into his eyes as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t even have to open your mouth because it is already hanging agape, waiting for him and what he loves to give you. 

It’s warm on your tongue and upper lip when you receive it both times. He doesn’t spit it this time, he drips it down to you as he slams his body against yours through your orgasm. You swallow it hungrily and then lick your lips to clean off what he over shot the first time. You gush staring up at him and now his jaw drops open and his rhythmic thrusting turn into sloppy, jagged jerking as your gushing juices send him to ecstasy filled release. 

“I’m gonna come,” Joel sighs breathlessly as his hips snap forward two more times and then he holds himself into you. “Fuck! S’mine. You're mine.” Joel nearly shouts down at you while he comes. Your gush flowing out against him as he does it. It’s dripping down the curve and crack of your ass and soaking the pillows below you. “Fuuck. Fuckk. Yer’ my gushin’ Princess.” Joel stutters once as he fills your pussy for the first time. “Daddy’s Princess.”

You do not fuck Joel all night. Your body gives out after that first good fuck. It’s disappointing but…Joel fucked the life out of you. You are dead against the mattress staring up at the ceiling. You honestly can’t even feel anything, your whole pussy is numb and it aches a little. He fucked you. Fucked you so good. He didn’t kill you with his cock, no…

Joel maybe ruined your life though, because how do you ever get fucked… not like that?  

Get fucked by anyone who is not by Mr. Daddy Joel Miller? No. 

He has done something horrible to you and now you want him to do more treacherous things to you. He might be evil , actually. This is what you get for praying to Satan all this time— as a JOKE . Then he sends you this evil man with a tongue that lashes at you in the best, and worst ways possible. 

Your evil, sonofabitch boyfriend is moaning as he sucks his release out of your cunt, licking at your walls now that he has gaped you with his fucking monster cock– what the fuck? It didn’t look as big as it fucking felt inside you.. 

Joel is laying with his head between your legs. He’s been down there this whole time. Just… licking. It’s been… maybe forty-five minutes since he fucked you for the first time. His hands roam across your stomach and caress you gently. His tongue smears his come along your cunt and clit as he swirls around it. It’s the only part of your pussy that feels good anymore. Sucking and lapping at your dripping and gaping hole like he is desperately trying to get back what he gave to you.

“Ohhh.” Is all you have the energy to say. You can only hum a happy, pleasing sound to him and your hand lazily finds his hair and you twirl your fingers around in it mindlessly as he licks you. He’s not even trying to make you come, not even teasing you… just collecting. And once he has his mouth full, he climbs over your lifeless body and nods his chin for you to open your mouth. You do.  

You stare at him the entire time he leans down and spits into your mouth, not letting you do anything before his mouth is on yours. The mix of your gush and his bitter release does something to give you life. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him to you as your tongues pass that blend of the both of you back and forth. 

Once you're done with all that– you’re looking at him standing at the edge of your bed. You still haven’t moved. Haven’t been able to. 

“We’re good?” Joel asks seriously. 

“What?” You close your eyes and try to imagine an ice pack on your pussy. 

“You still wanna be with me?” Joel sounds nervous. You cannot even open your eyes to look at that stupid slut. 

“Yes.” You snap at him sleepily. “Shut up. You’re the slut.” You point one, almost ded hand at him. 

“What!?” Joel sounds so shocked. “I’m not!” Now he’s offended. You do open your eyes and look at him now. 

“You’re the slut.” You bark at him and then close your eyes again and talk mostly to yourself. “Fucks like that n’ says he’s not a slut? Fuckin’ lair.” You grumble and roll over onto your side. “Slutty old man.” You are so tired. 

“Because I’ve been with a couple ladies??” Joel exclaims and crawls onto the bed beside you. “I’m not a slut.” 

“You are. Callin’ me a slut the first time we hung out. Mr. I Been With Ladies.” You mock him and he chuckles but it sounds like he didn’t really want to. 

“I only been with you since I met ya. Didn’t give my number out.” Joel teases you back and touches your sides. 

“You’re still a slut and we’re talking in the morning about why you didn’t just leave your ex-wife.” You snap, remembering that you are still actually kind of angry with him. 

“Uuuggghhh.” Joel groans loudly. “I’ll fuckin’ tell ya right now. Then we’re never talkin’ ‘bout her ass again, got it?” He snaps at you. 

“Dish.” You snap back. 

“We got married ‘fore I started my company. I was worried she was gon’ try an’ take all of it. Bankrupt me. Take my house. Eventually– I was worried she’d leave with Sarah. So I just let her hit me.” Joel is… not yelling but he is– excited? Speaking quickly and with gusto. “I was too embarrassed to ask for help, Birdie... Who could help me? Who was I gon’ fuckin' ask? My mom is dead. My dad should'a been, at that point. Tommy is just barely done bein’ a kid… so? I stayed. N’ I fucked up.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper shyly.

“Don’t fuckin’ be sorry fer' me, you didn’t fuckin' do shit!” Joel exclaims and then his eyes soften. “I’m sorry. I get loud when I’m angry, I’ll work on that shit too. Jesus Christ.” Joel looks at the floor. “No one knows ‘bout my ex. Just her and I. I never told anyone else. Not even Tommy or Sarah.” Joel turns his head to look at you. “Like to keep it that way.”

“Why…not tell people what she did? So they know?” You wrinkle your nose. 

“‘Cause then they’ll know I did it to her. N’ all they’ll see is me… hittin’ his wife. Even though it was only once n’ barely a tap– I did it. I hit her, n’ I hate myself fer’ that.” He admits sadly. “Our dad was fucked up towards the end, but he raised us better than that.” 

“What…was wrong with—” You start but Joel shakes his head. 

“Not gettin’ into that… not now. Maybe not ever. It just wasn’t good. Real bad. He struggled.” Joel says curtly. 

“Alright… I also had an asshole dad, too—” You start but he cuts you off quickly and with a sharp tongue

“My dad wasn’t a fuckin’ asshole, got it?” Joel narrows his eyes on yours. “Not an asshole. I can’t talk ‘bout it, Bird. I don’t like to.” 

“I don’t like talking about my Dad but it fuckin’ helps.” You roll your eyes at him. “Not keepin’ all that shit in…kinda fucking helps sometimes. So, maybe you should go see a therapist. I talk to one all the time.” 

“I’m not goin’ to see no fuckin’ shrink.” Joel scoffs again. He's such a fucking man. Ugh. 

“Whatever. You don’t have to, but it does help and it is good for you. I meant what I said last night… I won’t let you aplogize next time if you ever speak to me like that again…” 

“I know… but now we gotta talk ‘bout something else…” Joel sighs and turns to you. "I was gonna bring it up...n' then you said you were a virgin...n' I thought I was gon' scare you away if I told you the things I like...'cause I don't need 'em. Not at all. I just like 'em...and they're not all...nice." He speaks cautiously-- the taming a rabid animal voice is back and you're shaking.

“What?” You groan but he places his hand on your thigh besides your bruised hand. You almost pull away but it's hard to resist the warmth of him. He's...so handsome. His brown eyes are locked on to yours, his hair is all messy from getting pulled and tugged on by you-- it's sticking in all directions and you have to stop yourself from smirking. He didn't clean up his facial hair at all this morning before work, so he's scruffier than normal. You could reach out and touch him, but it's hard because he's going to tell you scary things right now.

“The things I like can get a lil…” He pauses and searches for the word he needs to use. “Bein’ on the receiving end of what I like can fuck with yer’ head sometimes… if you don’t know yer’ cared for or get mistreated. I do care ‘bout ya. N' I'm sorry 'bout last night.” Joel stresses this point. 

“Okay…” You’re hesitant because what the fuck is your slutty, evil boyfriend talking about. Are you going to have to kick him in the chest like Jackie Harris that one time? Break up with him?

“I like ya more n’ more every day– but I am jus’ a big, strong guy that wants to Dominate ya.”

“Like you have been?” You ask and Joel nods, adding to your statement.

 “N’ then I wanna take ya out… treat ya — ‘cause I can and like to … I call ya sweet things so you know that when I say that— eh, it’s not a show..or fake. I like makin’ you feel all cute n’ special– cause you are, but also ‘cause s’just what I like…”

“Uh… then what?” You blink and swallow audibly. 

“I turn ‘round n’ humiliate you while my cocks inside you.” Joel says simply. “Make you feel naughty n’ dirty. Use yer’ lil fuckin’ pussy however I want, use you. Be real mean to ya sometimes…”

“This is an excuse so you can yell at me?” You roll your eyes and almost think about telling him to leave but he rubs the outside of his pinky against yours. 

“Never. I’m gon’ work on that. I will. Gettin’ angry n’ sayin’ mean shit. I will.” Joel speaks so calmly and evenly. “I just wanna call ya names in the bedroom. Do naughty stuff in there… sometimes let it playfully carry into our relationship too”

“Like? I need you to expla—” Joel hooks his pinky with yours and looks down at it. 

“Remember my promise to you?” He asks quietly. You nod. “Keep that in mind n’ know… that’s how I wanna treat you ninety-nine percent of the time.” 

“The other one perce--?” You ask fearfully but he cuts you off and is ready to tell you.

“Call you terrible fuckin' things, worthless n’ stupid.” Joel whispers softly. “Spit on ya. Fuck you real hard n’ fill your holes– all of ‘em.” His eyes never leave yours. “Fuck you anywhere…everywhere I want.” Joel is still so calm. 

You’re fuckin’ trembling. This sounds..equal parts horrifying and also incredible. Sexy and scary. Right up your alley— dark and horrifying alley. 

“What if I don’t want that? Getting called fuckin’ stupid every day?” You wrinkle your nose. That sounds like it could be... tiring? Mentally? But, you're not stupid and...have a therapist. So, this is something you might explore but... you dunno.

“Don’t gotta. We can just keep doin’ what we’re doin’. I'm used to it bein' normal." Joel shrugs his shoulders. "I enjoy this though. Don't need it-- like it. Like exploring. Like pushin' mine and yer' boundaries... s'kinky." Joel nods then frowns "I haven't been with many who like it-- s'why I'm used to it normal, lil rough. Nothin' craz--"

“Slut!” You snap, cutting him off and Joel snickers softly. 

“Maybe… not anymore though.” He smirks. “I just wanna fuckin’ ruin you, baby girl. Only you.” Joel Miller whispers this to you and your pussy (you thought it was broken, really broken) twinges when he says it. “I mean it. I like it rough…but if you’d let me. I’d like to… try things with ya. Keep showin' you things like I have been.” 

“What if I don’t like some of the things you show me?” Your interest outweighs your fear. 

“‘Kay, now yer’ asking good questions…” He smirks at you and pulls your hand into his lap by your pinky. “Yer’ in control in all this, babe.” He nods. “You don’t like it, I stop. I like watchin’ ya squirm n’ cry… but for the right reasons. I don’t wanna…really hurt you— I do. I wanna spank ya and whip yer’ ass ‘till its red. Smack ya a ‘round a lil…fuck you real good when I do it. Make ya feel good, give you pleasure with yer' pain, baby.” His voice is so comforting that it’s calming even listening talk about he wants to mildly abuse you in the bedroom. 

“I have to decide right now?” You blink at him. 

“You..don’t ever gotta decide nothin’. I like that shit, but I’m not gon’ die without it. I'm just warnin’ ya so I don’t take things too far…on accident or… in misunderstanding.” He leans in and kisses you on the forehead gently. 

“Okay… we can talk about things first, always?” You look up at him and he’s already nodding his head. 

“Do you wanna change outta that lil white thang and go to bed? We’ll getcha coffee and a new phone in the morning?” He whispers. 

“Yeah.”

Then Joel undresses you and gives you the comfiest pair of shorts out of your dresser. Then this stupid, evil Red Devil goes into his ‘spend the night bag’ and gets you a clean t-shirt of his to wear. 

“I have some…” You whisper up to him, but he motions for you to lift your arms and he slips it on for you. 

“I know. Don’t care– want you in this.” He leans down and kisses your lips softly and for a long time before he runs upstairs and performs his little night time routine here at your house. Checking all the doors and windows. 

Joel is…actually perfect? No. He’s angry and is a dick and is making up for that. Unless you already forgave him? You dunno. You honestly can’t even care because you’re asleep before Joel even comes back.

The next morning is interesting. It takes a lot of convincing from your boyfriend. 

“Just for me.” He nods. You shake your head. “My. Eyes. Only.” He nods. 

“Why?” You’re smirking.

“Picture it, okay?” Joel stands besides you and holds his hand out in front of him like he’s trying to get you to see what he’s seeing. “Me…in my truck at work…watchin’ it..thinkin’ ‘bout you… touching mysel—”

“You do that at work!?” You exclaim. He chuckles and smacks your ass. 

“Uh, if I had this yes– I would.” He is already getting his phone out of his jeans from last night. 

“No one’s gonna see it?” You blink at him. Joel scoffs. 

“I’m not sharin’ this with anyone. You fuckin’ nuts?” He pulls a chair up to the end of the bed and messes around with his phone. ‘S’fer me. Me alone.” 

Now, Joel is laying in bed with you. He’s behind you with your back to his chest. Your legs are spread over his and his hard cock is pressed against your back. You're grinding yourself against him, massaging his cock between your bodies as his fingers work on your clit. 

“You like this naughty shit?” he asks softly in your ear. You nod and can only focus on breathing heavily, trying not to look directly into his phone that he set up on a chair at the end of the bed. “Say it.” He growls in your ear. His two thickest and longest fingers are just circling your clit slowly and lazily. 

“I like being naughty, Daddy.” You mewl quietly. Joel’s other hand is gripping one of your tits and thumbing the stiff peak as he rocks his hips up against you gently, moving his body against yours as you drag your body up and down against his slightly. Just an inch or two in each direction. Giving Joel just enough pressure and friction and movement on his throbbing cock between your ass and on your lower back. 

“You like that I need this?” Joel growls, moving his head to the other side of yours now, kissing across your shoulder and up your neck as your sweating bodies glide across each other. “ Gotta have you like this in my pocket, lil girl.” Joel whispers. “So I can see this pretty pussy.” While Joel speaks rubs all four fingers across your cunt slowly. 

“I love it.” You moan softly. 

“You want Daddy to give your pussy a good slap?” He coos in your ear. Honestly, not really. But, you’re going to let him do whatever he wants to you. 

“Please don’t hurt me, Daddy.” You whine nervously. Is he gonna smack it like he did your ass? Joel’s breath hitches in his chest and you feel it happen behind you. His hips buck up into your back gently. “Slap it soft. ” You whisper. Joel sighs and rubs your clit quickly with his four stiff fingers– so quickly. He’s putting so much effort into it, his body stiffens below yours and he leans forward slightly to put more pressure behind his rubbing. 

You are moaning and writhing, eyes closed as he quickly brings you right to that edge. When you’re almost there he pulls his hand away and swiftly brings them down onto your red, slick and puffy cunt lips. It focuses it to the top of your mound where your nerve bundle is. It is a different sensation. The hard, fast, sudden pressure and shock of the slap on your clit makes you moan, it doesn't even hurt at all. 

“Do it again, Daddy.” You press yourself into him and turn your head so your closed eyes are pressed into his neck as he leans over you the best he can. 

“Awhh, the cute, pathetic, lil girl likes gettin’ her pussy slapped? Course you do, ya naughty lil bitch.” Joel laughs softly. "Look at the camera, talk to it." He growls into your ear and gives your mound another soft smack and it’s wet and audible. You turn your head forward and rest it against his shoulder as he lens in and presses his lips to your cheek, kissing you softly. Then he gives you another tight rasp on your pussy. And another. He’s doing it so rapidly, slapping and swatting your clit and not hard enough to hurt, it’s…so good? So fucking good for some reason. Joel and you are still working together, your glistening bodies sliding and slipping against each other. 

“Fuck. I do like it.” You murmur to the camera, your eyes are still clenched and now, you're rocking your hips up to meet his quick, noisy— more than patting but he’s not spanking your cunt like he did last night. The force all comes from his wrist, not his shoulder. It’s incredible and almost reminds you of his shower head but not as wet or warm. Joel growls softly against your cheek and presses his forehead to the side of your skull with slight force. 

"Louder. I wanna hear it." He snaps softly into the soft skin just below your cheekbone. He is grinding up into your back. "I wanna hear you fuckin' say it. Mean it." It's so fierce when he says it, that it almost startles you but... you just talked about all this so you know it's...just a thing. Not mean, not scary. 

"I fuckin' love when you spank my cunt, Daddy. So fuckin' much." You speak with force and it comes out in moans as he chuckles against your cheek and rubs your clit now in between those little, tight rasps of his fingers against you.

"There it is..." Joel kisses your cheek softly as his own moans start to slip from his mouth as he holds you around the waist with his other arm now, moving your body up and down against the front of him. You can feel his movements becoming more desperate as you stroke his cock with ever single move you make. 

"Oh fuck...yes...please don't... stop.The light breeze he makes with his fingers gives you goosebumps on your inner thigh as your legs begin to tremble. “I think– oh god– I… think–” You’re cut off and choked by pleasure as that real bliss and ‘letting go’ feeling builds. 

“Yep. Do it. Gush for Daddy, baby. I wanna see it.” Joel moans loudly as your body moves against him more desperately, searching for more than just his slapping fingers even though he is bringing you there doing that. “C’mon baby. Yer' such a naughty fuckin' girl. Such a pathetic, lil, gushin' girl.” He whispers in your ear. "Yer' fuckin' amazing." The fact that he wants a video of you doing that so he can watch whenever he wants is what sends you there– it’s what makes you gush. 

He gets a clear shot of it happening as his abuse of your clit never ends. He spanks your pussy through your gush and sometimes his fingers slip down so he can touch it as it comes out of you. You’re still moving against him, now shaking and moaning loudly against his neck. You can feel his body working against yours for his own release and you push back against him to give him more pressure. When you do that, he groans softly and pulls his hand away from your spasming pussy. Then his fingers are inside your mouth. 

“Suck.” He moans as his body jerks underneath yours. You lap at his fingers hungrily and taste yourself on him and moan softly. You part his digits with your tongue and run it down the length of each extremity in your mouth, swirling and lapping at his knuckles and then flicking your tongue against the web between his fingers. You’re doing this and Joel is coming between the two of you. His release is trapped between his stomach and your back. “Such a fuckin’ good girl.” 

Joel sits you up and crawls from behind you and grabs his phone off the chair at the end of the bed. He sits beside you and starts to play the video. 

“I don’t wanna watch that. It’s for you.” You roll your eyes as the sounds of your moaning and whimpering fill the room. It makes you blush as Joel teases his cock again, watching what you two just did. He gets halfway through it with a big dumb smile on his face before he turns it off and turns his smile to you now. 

“Why? S’hot as hell. Jeeesus. Yer’ fuckin’ naughty n’ sexy. I like it.” Joel smirks and leans down to kiss you. “We’re makin’ more.” He teases. 

“Fine. I like seeing you—” You point at his face and then to his stomach covered in his milky release. “-- smiling and covered in cum. So, fine.” You blush and he touches your cheek gently.

“I want to do the naughtiest things with you.” Joel whispers. You blink. 

“Like what?” You pur up to him as he rubs his thumb across your lips gently. 

“You’ll see.”

(sorry it took me so long, i'll try and be better.)

tag list: @immyowndefender @korikolove @untamedheart81 @fanficlover1414, @creepycorbeaux @ohmillerbaby @rosebuds-and-moonlight @harriedandharassed

[psicheanima]

Your response to that Asa ask was really insightful and I think it speaks to something I've been feeling about CSM Part 2 for a while, which is this feeling that Fujimoto is seemingly going through the story as quickly as possible to just get on with it. The beats happen, the plot moves, but it's lost the depth. CSM has always had fairly blunt writing matched with a very fast pace, and I think in Part 1 that was very effective, but now it feels like everyone says the subtext out loud mostly so we can move on to the next scene. No stopping to see what it means for someone to actually think or feel the things that are being expressed. It's still a fun manga but it definitely feels far more shallow lately. Maybe it will flow better as a complete story but reading as weekly updates it's been less engaging. There's just less to actually think about once I finish the chapter and close my manga reader app.

It used to be a manga where I’d get very upset people called it surface level. But now, when I see people analyzing it I kinda roll my eyes because I genuinely don’t think Fujimoto intends to write the things they’re analyzing. Especially when it comes to characters like Yoshida. I used to feel he represented something, but now..? I don’t have any faith! He might just be a character! Yikes!

Chainsaw Man was fast paced, but so stuffed to the brim with fun, alive concepts that you could attach to any one arc and each one felt like an entirely different world. Ever since the falling Devil, there’s just the long slog…. It’s pretty sad

[darl-ingfics]

Feveruary Day 3: Caught in the Rain

Fandom: ATEEZ

Sickie: Seonghwa (fever)

Caregiver(s): ATEEZ

Word Count: 1,359

Notes: There's more to this story, but I cut it where it felt natural to cut it. Maybe I'll release a part 2 in the future...

The photoshoot was supposed to be quick and easy. A luxury brand had asked KQ for ATEEZ to model for them, specifically requesting Seonghwa and Yunho. Their communication had been timely, respectful, and cooperative. The shoot was going to be Quick and Easy. That was the whole reason Hongjoong and their manager had ultimately allowed Seonghwa to go: the schedule was short and the required energy low, a perfect first engagement back after the eldest had just barely recovered from a nasty case of bronchitis. 

What actually ended up happening was neither quick, nor easy. 

The marketing associates who had previously been in contact with their managers are no where to be found on set. Instead, two company executives, clearly in the middle of some sort of power struggle, were running the show, and constantly trying to undermine one another. They nitpicked the stylist teams, unnecessarily extending the process. They kept interrupting the director of the shoot, asking the photographers ridiculous questions, touching equipment they knew nothing about, trying to chat with Seonghwa and Yunho when they were trying to listen to directions. They’d made it through a handful of pictures inside the studio before moving outside, like executive B had wanted, but by the time they got out there, the weather had stopped cooperating. A storm had begun to roll in, and while the photographers and managers pushed to go back in, both executive A and B had insisted they get the outdoor shots, assuring everyone that things would be ‘fine.’ 

They’d only been snapping pictures for thirty minutes before the downpour started. 

So now, ten minutes later, Seonghwa was sitting on a bench outside the studio, shaded somewhat from the rain under the large leaves of a tree, but still shivering from the chill of the wind against his soaking wet clothes. He wasn’t sure where Yunho or their manager were; the photographer had left him here a few minutes ago while the executives and director argued about what they wanted to do with the shoot. Seonghwa didn’t much care at this point. He was tired. He was cold. He was ready to go home. 

But he was also professional enough not to say anything until he was asked, so he simply sat shivering on his bench in the meantime. 

Seonghwa’s daze was broken when his shoulders dipped as a jacket was placed on his shoulders. He blinked up, shelling his eyes from the rain to better see Yunho. 

“No.” Shaking his head, Seonghwa began to shrug the jacket off. 

Yunho’s hands held the fabric in place. “No, yourself.” Seonghwa continued shaking his head, so Yunho kept his hands in place on his hyung’s shoulders. 

“You need your jacket,” Seonghwa insisted. 

“Not as much as you do.” Yunho shifted to sit next to Seonghwa, looping one arm around his shoulders. 

“Yunho, it’s raining. You’re all wet.”

A chuckle rumbled in the taller man’s chest. “So are you.”

Lightning flashed above their heads, a roll of thunder following lazily. Seonghwa’s head rested against Yunho’s shoulder. “I want to go home,” he said quietly. 

Yunho placed his head on top of Seonghwa’s. “Me too. This whole thing has been one big clusterfuck.”

“Don’t say that too loud,” Seonghwa warned. 

“Hyung, the closest person is more than three meters away, and there’s no way they could hear me over this rain.” 

“Still.” He paused, clearing his throat. Not quite a cough, but it made Yunho frown all the same.

“You feeling okay?”

Seonghwa shrugged. “I’m tired.”

“Me too, hyung. Me too.”

*

“Oh my god.” San threw his book to the side, standing immediately when Seonghwa and Yunho walked into the den. The rest of the group, (minus Hongjoong, who was working at the studio,) were waiting patiently for the duo to watch a movie. But this was unexpected: while Yunho and Seonghwa had already removed their jackets and shoes, they were still visibly damp. “Wait, stop, why are you all wet?” He ran over to the pair, one hand running through Yunho’s hair, the other feeling Seonghwa’s shirt. He pouted in confusion, wide puppy eyes scanning between them. “Why are you all wet?”  

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, Sannie, but it’s raining,” Yunho replied with a good-natured smile. He readjusted his arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders, tightening his hold on the older man, who had yet to stop shivering since their moment on the bench two hours before. “And our photoshoot was, surprisingly, outside.”

“It was outside?!” Wooyoung’s jaw dropped. “Did you know that?”

Seonghwa shook his head while Yunho replied with a simple, “Nope.”

“And they didn’t take you inside when the rain started?” Wooyoung clarified. 

“Not for a good 45 minutes,” Yunho answered. 

“But you’re makeup and hair and stuff?” San asked, incredulous. “They didn’t think about all that hard work going to waste?” Yunho shrugged one shoulder, shaking his head. 

“We apologized to the stylists on their behalf,” Seonghwa spoke up. “Thanked them for working so hard despite… it getting ruined. It didn’t help that the one exec kinda liked it better messed up…” His voice trailed off, his eyes wandering away to the floor. 

Wooyoung shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. I would’ve fought someone.”

“Kinda hard to fight a high-profile brand executive.” 

Wooyoung scoffed, pushing off the couch, stomping to the kitchen and back to blow off steam. San had yet to stop pouting, running a comforting hand up and down Seonghwa’s arm (the one not currently smushed against Yunho). 

“It wasn’t horrible,” Yunho added, his voice placating. “The shoot director was really kind, and had some amazing ideas. He tried to get us back inside the minute the clouds rolled in. And the stylist team? I’d go back just to work with them again.”

“Stop all this toxic positivity.” Wooyoung crossed his arms over his chest. “You can be mad at people for treating you like shit, Yunho.”

“He called them a ‘clusterfuck’ earlier,” Seonghwa supplied unhelpfully. 

Yunho nudged him. “Of course that’s what you remember.” 

“Wait, hyung, you called the a clusterfuck to their face?” Jongho asked, shock evident on his face. 

“No, of course not, we were-“ Yunho breath caught, as he pitched to the side with a loud sneeze. He shook his head after, blinking in surprise. “Shit, excuse me. Didn’t expect that one…”

“Fuck! Now you’re sick too!” Wooyoung started pacing again, threading his hands through his hair. 

“Okay, okay. Calm down, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Mingi said, taking control of the situation. He pointed towards Yunho and Seonghwa. “Let’s get you two warmed up. Go hit the showers. Hwa-hyung, be honest, can you stand on your own? Cause you haven’t let go of Yuyu since you got home.” 

On a normal day, such a direct call out would invoke a demonic wrath from the eldest that few were brave enough to face. This was not a normal day. 

“I would like someone to stay with me, please,” Seonghwa admitted, voice quiet out of exhaustion rather than embarrassment. 

Mingi nodded. “Sannie, go with him please. Jongho, Woo, you guys go heat up dinner. Sangie, do something productive, I trust you.”

“You don’t trust me?” Wooyoung whined. 

“Never,” Mingi replied simultaneously with Yunho and Jongho’s emphatic, “No,” and Yeosang’s “Let me have ONE thing!”  

Amidst the chaos, San had successfully extricated Seonghwa from Yunho’s embrace, and had led their eldest down the hall. 

“Pretty sure his fever’s back,” Yunho muttered to Mingi after the bathroom door closed behind them.

Mingi shook his head. “Oh, definitely. He’s so quiet.” The rapper’s eyes turned to scan Yunho. “You better not get sick, too, mister.” 

“Mingi.” Yunho put his hands on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m fine.” 

“You better be. Go shower.” He hit Yunho’s butt playfully as the dancer turned to go. Yunho whipped back around and clumsily hit Mingi’s hip, earning a laugh from his friend.

Once Yunho’s footsteps had disappeared up the stairs, Mingi joined the group in the kitchen. 

“Hongjoong-ah’s gonna kill someone,” Wooyoung singsonged under his breath to Mingi as the taller man leaned against the counter. 

“As long as its not us, I’m not complaining.”

[hymnserendipity]

Sylus break up pt 2

Angst, no gender mentioned

Sylus spent his days, as usual, his mind lost between one meeting and another until suddenly his phone vibrated in his pocket, because he still had, for some reason, your ig stories updates. And he saw you smiling as you kiss someone.

It wasn't his place to feel anger or anything else, but seeing your happy smile next to another man made his blood boil. He couldn’t take his eyes off his phone, looking at you and your new boyfriend, thinking about how it had hurt him so much and how you had gotten over it so quickly, and it pissed him off even more. So he decided to send you a message, maybe piss you off too. "So?" He typed. And you blocked him.

Sylus wasn’t expecting you to block him. He was at his office when he tried to get into your story again and found that you had blocked him. He was angry, hurt, and annoyed. He spent the rest of his day working, but his mind wasn’t really in it. All he could think about was you, how caring and loving you had been, and how much he had been a prick to you.

After a few days, he gave in and tried to find you on social media once again, only to remember that you had blocked him. Sylus's emotions were like a whirlwind inside of him as he realized that you had blocked him. He felt a mixture of anger, annoyance, and sadness. Anger that you had blocked him without even giving him a chance to talk to you, annoyance because he couldn’t check on you even if he wanted to, and sadness because he missed you, he missed your smile, your voice, your everything. He tried to stay focused on his work, but your memory occupied a significant part of his thoughts. Sylus couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you, walking down the street, with another guy on your arm. A knot was forming in his stomach as he watched you smile and laugh with the stranger. The sight of you happy with someone else made his blood boil with anger and jealousy, and before he realized it, he was walking towards you. His steps were quick and resolute as he approached you. He couldn’t help but glare at the man by your side, and as he reached you, he spoke up, his voice a mixture of irritation and possessiveness....

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

"Hum?" With a sight you tell your new boyfriend to give you a moment and follow him in a alley.

"What do you want?"

Syluswas surprised that you had accepted to talk to him alone, and he wasted no time in getting to the point.

“Who the hell is that guy?” He asked, gesturing towards your companion. The jealousy in his eyes was evident.

"My boyfriend, someone that actually care." Sylus clenched his jaw as you spoke. The mention of your boyfriend felt like a punch in the gut, and he did his best to control his rising anger.

“Yeah? And how long have you been together?”

"Three days. We broke up four months ago." Sylus felt a pang in his chest as he heard how long you had been dating. Four months, and you had already moved on and found someone new. He wanted to know more, but his jealousy and anger got the better of him.

“So you’re already dating another guy? And you're happy with him?”

"Yes."

Sylus's face became a stony mask as he tried to hide his emotions. He was seething with jealousy and anger.

"So you're happy with him, huh? You don't even miss our time together?"

"Leave me alone. You broke my heart, now i'm happy." Sylus's eyes flicked from you to your boyfriend and back again.

"And what? You think he's going to make you happier? He doesn't know you the way I did. He doesn't know what you like, or what you don't like. And he sure as hell doesn't know how much better I was for you."

"Stop. I don't want to talk about it again, that's what u did." You were mad as you left, he didnt follow you. Sylus watched you walk away, feeling a lump forming in his throat. Your words hit him like a ton of bricks, and he couldn't blame you for not wanting to talk to him again. He had hurt you, and now you were happier with someone else. The jealousy and anger that had filled him had turned into a wave of sadness and regret.

He clenched his fists, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. How could he have let you go so easily? He had been a fool. And now it was too late to change anything.

[class1akids]

I have an unpopular opinion: I know Shoto not using his fire really held him back for a long while, but honestly atp I think that it’s not as big as a character flaw as others think.

Can you imagine being Shoto and being abused since you were five and it being severe enough to make you vomit with no breaks to play, being separated from the rest of your family and watching your older siblings play from a window, witness your mother get slapped around by your father and eventually having a breakdown that leaves you with a massive facial scar and her gone from your life for a decade, peers at your school seeing you as Endeavor’s son and project how they view him onto you (Inasa for example), and having everything controlled to even your diet?

How much dehumanization do you think Shoto went through just from his father? Who could he have turned to outside the family without them just throwing him back towards his abusive home? Barely anyone seemed to care when Endeavor’s crimes got exposed when he wanted to but didn’t take responsibility. What would have happened if Shoto (or anyone in the family) tried to get outside help with Endeavor still trying to beat Shoto into his “masterpiece”?

I think that him repressing his quirk was probably the only way he could have gotten any control back into his life. Was it unhealthy and bad for him in the long run for his goals? Yes. However, it was probably one the few mental lifelines he had at the time, and that and his love for All Might was probably the only things that kept him going.

Maybe with how the story ended and how spin off material seems to prefer Endeavor over Shoto, I feel more sympathetic for Earlyroki. Lashing out at others wasn’t great, but Shoto continued to have such a heavy burden throughout the story with very little reward in comparison, especially with a good chunk of other characters being used to either tease or praise Endeavor. He didn’t get any comfort from his family and he didn’t even get to cry about not being able to save his brother even when he tried his damnest to keep him alive. His family he tried to connect to became permanently broken, and although I’m glad he was about to love and appreciate his class, I think a lot of adults failed him- especially when no one stood next to him besides his father who caused Touya to become a villain and Hawks who we know where his loyalties lie.

It’s a miracle he didn’t end up a villain, and he was close to toeing that line if it weren’t from Midoriya and his mother’s words that stopped him, made him rethink, and work to become who he wants to be.

I think Shouto repressing his fire and pushing his ice to its absolute limits first actually did serve his endgame. It was part of the narrative about "taking the long way around".

After the Sport Festival, the story focused a lot on Shouto's fire development, and made it clear that by not developing his fire, he was on the back foot. But when he finally mastered flashfire, and Dabi came into the picture, it also became clear that fire was a dead-end. Fighting Touya with fire would just kill them both.

So the story did justify early Shouto in a way, who pushed his ice to its limits early. Because a Shouto who didn't resist his father and would have gone along with what Endeavor wanted, would have used ice only as a complement to fire.

But Shouto, after going the full circle comes back to his own way, comes back to ice and uses fire to be able to surpass his own output limits.

So I felt that Shouto's ultimate move did his teenage rebellion justice. The achievements of those angry, Earlyroki version of himself was absolutely needed to build his endgame move.

[mercars-musings]

Breaking In

Fandom: Dragon Age - The Veilguard

Pairing- Lace Harding & Taash

TW- depicted: anxiety, grief, flirting and some "immodest" touching ; mentioned: major character death, sexual acts ; genre: silly, fluff.

Description-

This is a short, silly & fluffy piece I wrote of Harding and Rook getting up to shenanegans when Lace tries to break into Taash's bedroom to stage a surprise!

Done as part of a Rook Story Prompt Ask Game on Tumblr! {This Ask Game Prompt was: 38. SD!Rook breaking in somewhere to acquire vital information.}

Ask Game Here PS. @hyperions-light Ask prompt 9 is also coming at some point in the next weekish! And @ofcrowsanddragons your fic is coming too just a little bit after ! Sorry to you both for the delay, my brain has been mush lmfao <3 /gen

Word count- 2.6k

Read on AO3: Here!

~ MAJOR SPOILERS FOR VEILGUARD BELOW ~

Lace Harding always loved finding little ways to make her partner smile, whether it was with a date or a surprise gift, she always strove to delight Taash whenever possible.

Her most recent attempt came about after she had read one of Rook's… spicier book recommendations and found a particularly risque outfit that she thought Taash would get a kick out of.

Getting the outfit should have been easy enough: all she had to do was grab some excess materials from Taash's bedroom when they were away & try the outfit out in time for their return, simple enough right?

Well, the fact that Lace had just spent the better half of an hour fighting the lock on Taash's bedroom door would beg to differ.

She would have just employed her usual method of finding a sturdy enough rock to hit the lock into submission with, but, she'd feel awful breaking something of Taash's. Even something as inconsequential and easily replaceable as a pad lock.

After a few more moments of prodding the lock, Harding bit down her pride and finally accepted that she would need to ask for help.

Maybe she could ask her fellow rogue? No, Lucanis had gone out a few hours ago, probably somewhere he could brood at Neve over coffee since she was nowhere to be seen either.

Davrin & Bellara had joined Taash on their trip to the Hall of Valour, so both of them were definitely off the table for this particular antic.

Emmrich definitely wouldn't join her heist & even if he could be persuaded, judging by the lack of giggling coming from Rook's room he probably wasn't even arou-

Wait- Rook!

Hm, Rook…

Things had been a little strange between the pair since Varric. It wasn't anything malicious, or actually damaging just- Az never really spoke about their mutual friends passing.

Lace originally just assumed it was because of his tendency to avoid talking about his personal problems like the blight. That if given long enough, he would eventually open up & finally speak to her about it, but… it had been almost a year & he still hadn't even broached the topic with Harding.

Maybe she had overestimated their friendship, maybe he didn't feel as close to her as she did him, or… maybe his discomfort talking about it was her fault.

She hadn't exactly reached out to him about it much either. She had kind of spent a large portion of the last several months stressing out about her new powers & what it meant for not only her but the Dwarven people as a whole.

If she was really honest with herself, she kind of just word-vomited a lot of that stress & anxiety at Az whenever he would check in on her. Which, probably didn't help him feel like there was much space to actually talk about Varric since so much was going on & the one other person who could get it just… wasn't very available.

Maybe some silly antics were exactly what was needed right now. Maybe, if they were able to do silly shit together again, even if it was only for a little while, it would help them re-bond a little bit? Possibly even start to re-bridge that gap so Az could feel comfortable talking to her again?

Well, it certainly couldn't hurt.

Lace rounded the corner to Rook's room, raising her hand to knock before an unexpected noise caught her attention. It was the quiet hum of music, which wouldn't have been too much of a surprise if Rook wasn't the absolute worst at trying to play literally every instrument she had seen him try.

The music continued through the door, muffled in a way that seemed like it was being kept just quiet enough to not catch any suspecting passerby's attention. However, luckily for Lace, it was still loud enough that it couldn't quite sneak by a scout.

Harding was never good at keeping her nose out of something that interested her and it certainly got her in trouble more times than she would like to admit. It made her a great scout though, few things could get past her or in her way when she was trying to find someone or something, well, except for a lock apparently.

Curiosity got the better of her as usual and instead of knocking she found herself slowly pushing the door open as to better assess the situation without immediately alarming her friend of her snooping.

When the door opened, she was greeted by the familiar smell of Lavender & Oak-moss incense. It had become Rooks favourite since he'd met Emmrich, wouldn't stop going on about how when mixed it smelt like nights with Emmrich.

Bleh.

Despite this immediate reaction, Lace really was happy for her friend, but it was also extremely foreign seeing Rook be so lovey dovey all of a sudden.

When she met him, & throughout most of their year chasing Solas, he seemed to be fully submerged in his whole "I'm allergic to love actually, so never mention it in my vicinity again or I will throw myself into the Minrathous Docks" thing.

So to see that change so fast was nice but… weirdly concerning at the same time.

Her friend was in mourning {& clearly not handling it very well}, then all of a sudden he's throwing himself into the arms of a much older man that has so much more public respect & accreditation than Rook had. It felt almost like… well she wasn't sure what it felt like but she definitely knew her gut was telling her to be weary.

She didn't want Az to get hurt anymore than he already had been.

Before she could continue mulling over the strange change in her friend, Harding's train of thought was disrupted by the strange sound that had grabbed her attention just moments prior: the unusual hum of a quiet melody that danced throughout the aquarium.

The melancholy notes that twisted through the air seemed to be coming from a projection of a lute, which was definitely an unexpected sight.

She didn't exactly doubt it was possible for someone to create a musical projection, if anything it would be weird if someone hadn't at least figured that out by now. What was weird though, is that in all her travels with Rook it seemed like he rarely used his magic outside of fighting. So it really was a surprise to see him messing around with it now, in his spare time.

This combined with the fact that Az seemed to be laying almost lazily on his couch, twirling his ankle to the tune of the music, little clicking sounds ringing out from the joint as he did… it seemed almost domestic? Like Rook had actually let himself just relax, which isn't something Harding was used to seeing but… it was nice in a way.

One particularly loud ankle pop seemed to knock her fully out of her thoughts, finally reminding her to actually announce her presence.

"Hey, Rook."

The almost calming projection & tune disappeared almost as instantly as Az shot up from where he was relaxing, his eyes wide as they met Harding's.

"Sorry," she laughed, taking in the rare site of a bewildered Rook.

"Fuckin' Hell Harding," the Qunari breathed, placing a hand on his chest. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Not yet, kinda don't want to find out what an angry Emmrich's like." She joked.

Rook laughed at that, shaking his head slightly as he swung his legs off the side of his couch.

"I don't know, seeing a Mini Titan versus a Seasoned Necromancer? Seems like it would be a fun show."

Lace rolled her eyes at that, swinging her hip to the side slightly as she smirked.

"Yeah, till you have to deal with an angry Taash."

"Point taken," Az raised to his feet, turning to face the dwarf with a raised eyebrow. "So, whose dying now?"

"Nobody," she snorted.

"Promise? It's meant to be my day off y'know?" The mage joked back, raising his hands to meet the sides of his hips in his usual stance.

"Yeah, well… does my pride count?"

Rook's eyebrows furrowed at this, prompting Lace to continue.

"I'm trying to surprise Taash…"

"Okay…?"

"But, their bedroom doors locked & I'm not exactly lock picker Harding…" she admitted sheepishly.

"Yeah… I could have told you that after the fifth chest we had to open via cliff drop." Rook teased, pausing momentarily as the rest of Harding's words sunk in. "Wait, why do you need to get into their room?"

"For… vital information?"

Rook stared for a few seconds, eyebrows knitting together even tighter in an unconvinced stare as his head tilted slightly to the side.

"Okay, okay. Maker, you're so nosy…" Harding sighed, before continuing her answer in a quiet murmur, "I need to get a hold of a spare Dar-Saam."

"Dar-Saam?" The man responded, confusion lacing his words. "What do you want with a Dar-Saam?"

"A… thing." Lace mumbled, clearly running out of excuses & just desperate to avoid the conversation.

"Okay…" Az mercifully relented, "well, you don't need to break into Taash's room for that anyway. You can just borrow a spare one of mine."

"Wait, you wear a Dar-Saam?" Harding questioned, shooting the man a surprised look.

"Yeah," he responded matter-of-factly, pointing to his waist.

Harding's eyes shifted to where Rook's pointer finger was and then slowly adjusted to the minor difference in tones & texture along his micro-corset. There was Dar-Saam woven into the red cloth in such a way that most wouldn't really notice if they weren't looking for it.

"Huh… well thanks for the offer but um," Lace momentarily hesitated, "I don't think you'll want it back after...?"

Rook tilts his head to the side, uncertainty etched back into his features.

"Rook…" Lace sighs deeply as she rubs her forehead, "look there was this thing I read in that book you gave me-"

"The book I-?" Az stopped mid sentence as realisation set in and he threw his hands up defensively. "Oh- Maker- stop! PLEASE- forget I asked… let's just go break into Taash's room so I can get back to my rest day."

Harding held back a laugh, glad to know that her friend now found this just as unbearable of a conversation as she did & nodded.

The duo found themselves outside of Taash's room no more than five minutes later, Az kneeling in the exact same position Lace had been in less than 30 minutes ago as he assessed the pad lock.

"So, what kind of lock picking stuff does a mage use?" Lace questioned, "Oh is it like bolts of magic that move with the pins or something?"

"Uh… something like that," Az murmured, pulling a small, metallic item out of his pocket and raising it to the lock. The Qunari made a quick movement with his hands, before a click noise is heard.

"Woah, that was fast!" Harding laughed out in surprise.

"Hm? Oh yeah, this probably helped." Az retorted as he brought the piece of metal he had been handling into view.

It was a key.

"Wait, you had a key this whole time? Why did you make me say all of-!?" Harding stopped herself from getting too annoyed and simply huffed indignantly, earning a chuckle from Az.

"C'mon, you've got that 'vital information' to get. Or do you want Taash to find you sneaking into their room?" Az teased, standing back up before pushing Taash's door open slightly.

She wanted to complain, but she had a feeling their time in Taash's room would be limited, so instead she just rolled her eyes & stepped through the doorway, freezing in her tracks when she came face to face with her partner.

"Lace?" Taash asked in a mixture of confusion & slight frustration.

"T-Taash!" Harding choked out, before glancing over at Rook who just shrugged. "It's not what it looks like?"

"So, you aren't breaking into my room right now?" The warrior asked, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"No- well, yes I uh…" Harding stumbled over her words unsure how she would be able to get her way out of this one. She was not the talker, Varric was - Az was.

"She wanted to surprise you, with some gay shit." Rook interrupted, a joking tone in his voice that had Harding mentally vowing to shoot him in the ass next time they're in a skirmish.

"Of course you'd help her break in here." Taash commented as they rolled their eyes. After a few seconds, they turned back to Lace, curiosity now lacing their tone, "A surprise?"

"Yeah... I- wait why are you here?" Lace asked, realisation dawning on her that she isn't the only one somewhere they're not supposed to be right now.

A light blush slowly suddenly began to crawl up Taash's neck and onto their cheeks as the question lingered unanswered for a few moments. The silence only being broken by a fake cough that Taash pushed out in an attempt to mask their embarrassment.

"No reason."

"So, this is all… what?" Az questioned from the doorway, gesturing lazily towards something just behind Taash.

Following the gesture, Laces eyes panned over to just behind Taash, a tiny gasp catching in the back of her throat as she was met with a truly unexpected scene.

Behind Taash was a blanket fort similar to that of Harding's in the middle of the room, fairy lights on the roof of the fort and all.

Placed throughout & around the fort were also an array of goodies: a platter of different Fereldan cheeses, bread & wine on one side; a small plant that Harding hadn't seen before on the other; and a surprising amount of extremely plush looking cushions scattered throughout.

Taash glanced back momentarily as if they just remembered how not hidden the fort was, then turned back to the pair of intruders with a groan as they crossed their arms.

"Fine." They huffed, "You've been really stressed out lately and I… wanted to do something nice."

"You did this for me?" Lace asked, her voice almost a whisper as tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

"Y-yeah." Taash faltered slightly, clearing their throat as they glanced away again. "C'mon don't make it weird…"

"This is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me!" Lace giggled, her mind suddenly drawn away from her earlier plans by the sweet surprise.

"Well, that's Vashedan, you deserve better than-" Taash started, cut off by Harding crashing into their side in a tight hug. Placing their hand in her hair Taash ruffled it slightly as they let out a quiet laugh, which earned a contented sight from the Dwarf.

"Well, my job is done." Rook interrupted, pushing himself off the door frame.

"Wait," Taash called, "Neither of you have told me why you both broke in yet."

"Oh," Lace murmured, pulling herself away from her partner as a embarrassed giggle escaped her. "I uh… I read there was this thing you could do with Dar-Saam, but I kind of needed to test it before you got back…"

"Oh?" Taash's voice suddenly dropped an octave lower as they spoke.

Taash's hand snaked its way to Lace's hip where it tightened around the curve of her waist slightly. This pulled a small gasp from Harding's throat as they pulled her closer to them, letting out a low growl.

"Ugh, maker- you two could at least wait till I leave!" Rook groaned in a mixture of fear and disgust before quickly turning to escape through the doorway. Leaving both Lace & Taash to laugh slightly before they…. continued.

[ladysomething]

✄ for wygig please 💞

✄ DVD BONUS: pick a fic and I’ll describe or write a deleted scene!

actually!!! I now have a DOCUMENT with deleted scenes lmaooo.

one of them is absolutely huge, and it was originally supposed to be in the chapter where Max is in Milton Keynes. he runs into a pregnant omega in a restaurant and helps her get back on her feet. it's a really lovely scene, but was ultimately cut bc it added absolutely nothing to the story, HOWEVER I have it set aside because I'm going to repurpose it as a one shot eventually!

but here are parts that I cut from the most recent chapter.

when I originally this part, the necklace gifting and courting discussion was in like 5 chapters time, and I ultimately cut the below because ... well, there was less time between them getting together and the courting talk, so it no longer made sense.

“Do you think we fight too much?” Charles asks, reaching up to touch the pendant that’s now resting between his pecs. 

“We never fight,” Max says dismissively. 

Charles laughs. “Max, we disagree about everything. Our miscommunication is ridiculous at this point. Every time I think we have it under control, there’s just another thing we have to figure out.” 

Max drops his hands. Charles turns back around, feeling warm and happy despite the conversation he’s brought up. 

“I don’t think it’s a problem,” Max says eventually. “Because I—because we work through them, right?” 

Charles gives him a small smile, finger caressing where the two circles interlock. “Right,” he agrees softly. 

“I love you,” Max murmurs. “More than—more than anything. But there are always going to be things we disagree on. And I’m not keeping secrets purposefully.” 

“You have a couple times,” Charles says. “About what the other alphas in the paddock were saying. About what you were going to do about them.” 

Max purses his lips. “I’m working on it,” he says eventually. “I’ve never had a—a person before. A partner. Someone who would want to know, or who I could trust with it.” 

Charles softens, and reaches out to take Max’s hand in his own. “Me either,” he admits. “But I want this to work, Max. So much.” 

“I do, too,” Max says, squeezing his hand back. “It’s only been a few weeks since we—since the yacht. We’ll figure this out together.” 

this next scene was also part of the chapter, and was literally included until about an hour before I posted the chapter. actually, fun fact, that scene also changed WILDLY at the last minute - all that talk about deciding to properly court and get married and return the claim was added on the day of posting lmaooo. the below is how the scene originally ended (basically max gave the gift, Charles got mad, max tried to take the gifts away, Charles got mad about that too, and then Charles told Max that courting means nothing to him and that he doesn't want to do it, and then they left it at that, and then when Charles went to kiss Max the below conversation happened).

probably I'll end up repurposing that final line from Charles, because it's good and worth saying.

“Just—before we do,” he says, a little nervously. “To be clear, this time. What do you think we are?” 

“You’re my—” He breaks off, unsure what to say. Boyfriend sounds stupid. Partner, maybe. Mate? Except, technically, Charles is his mate, but Max isn’t Charles’. Eventually, he settles on, “You’re my Max. You’re mine.” 

A slow smile creeps up Max’s face. “I am yours,” he swears. “And you’re mine?” 

“I am,” Charles says, a smile blooming wide on his own lips. “Entirely, completely, in every way you can think of.”  

[bbywtfamidoing]

My brain is infected so yours should also be infected. (If you want to count this as an idea or a request PLEASE feel free but I also just really wanna share) sorry if it’s kinda long

Smosh doing like a really big charity stream, it's like 24 hour sleepover themed and Damien's there and reader is like crew or something and at one point they all decide to play a brand new game on live, that the reader is like OBSESSED with, but reader is also kind of insecure about talking about there hyper-fixations/infodumping/feel like they talk to much and are annoying or something so they have a hard time talking about there interests with others, but Damien is perceptive like that (He’s so in love with them it’s unfair) so he knows they at the very least like, and have played the game before so they invite her over to sit and play on stream with them and she sits next to Damien and they both end up just geeking out all night while playing and reader tries to like apologize and be like ‘im sorry if I talk to much about this you can just tell me to shut up if you need to haha’ and Damien’s like ‘no I like listening to you talk, this is great’ and eventually everyone else is like ‘nah man youre commentary is actually making this game make WAY more sense lol’ and eventually at some point as it gets later reader is the cuddly affectionate, giggly type of tired and ends up falling asleep on Damien and Damien’s like 😮 “what do I do??” L

they're both crushing on each other so hard but neither of them have said anything and they’re both so comfy and cozy and pretty and cute in their PJs and it’s so fluffy and cute and PDBSOBFLABDOSBCONS

I am unwell. Thank you for listening <3

You’re so real for this- and my friend I’ve done it. I may continue this at some point but I’ll post what I have here!! Hope you enjoy!!!

When they found out that The Last of Us was being played it was chaos at Smosh, so as soon as they were approached about being apart of the stream to help with parts that they could get stuck in- they were all in. Jacked in and ready to play, Shane and Spencer sat with Courtney and Damien and you sat together and eventually Amanda arrived to set with drinks for all. The games screen was on and the animation of a old broken down window with a curtain blowing in the wind, it was time to play and Damien held the controller as it started snd the subtitles were on screen as Amanda watched intently, with a quirked eyebrow as she processed the introduction to the fireflies. Now what the part they were all waiting for, the story- but Amanda asked questions consistently “Actually, it’s not a normal zombie outbreak like walking dead! It’s based off of a strange fugus called Cordyceps that kills bugs and basically eats at their brain so that the fungus can basically shoot out spores to spread it quicker. But any and all bread products is where the outbreak began-“ they paused and felt their face flush at the explosion of information

They seemed to go quiet as the game started, playing as Sarah as she woke up at the phone ringing. Shane carefully moved to joystick as he was prompted to, Courtney looked at them “Hey- we don’t mind you know? It gives us more story to follow.” They smiled at the other and nodded “thank you Court.” Damien carefully set a hand on their arm “I like hearing you talk about stuff you enjoy.” He spoke softly as they leaned forward and watched the screen intently.

Some time passed as Shane panicked and played Joel as he ran with Sarah in his arms after the car accident, You made quick work of explaining where to go so he didn’t get killed fast- he screamed at the Q to E and shoved the zombie away.

A group all speaking quickly and getting nervous as they were shoved into the bar by Tommy as he made his way around the bar to meet them. Making quick work as they ran down the hill and the SWAT officer yelled, quickly you sat up and watched the scene intently. Knowing exactly what was going to happen as Damien watched as the screaming and yelling at the screen began- Shane’s mouth hung open as Courtney leaned against him with a hand over their mouth

Tears in others eyes over the scene, as it lead to the screen the load into the game. Quickly you picked up “They had to retake this scene so many times that Hana Hayes the actress- who was 14 at the time of doing mo-cap was emotionally exhausted by the end of it. Oh! And the actor that voices- Joel voiced by Troy Baker was the youngest to audition for his role!” Damien nodded as he listened intently and Courtney smiled “That’s impressive work though- I think if I was alone I’d be sobbing-“ they chuckled softly wiping at their eyes as Spencer rubbed their back to console them.

A few hours in and the stream was getting pretty long at this point, you did your best to keep your eyes open but being around friends always made you feel safe and comfortable as you leaned against Damien who happily let you and hummed, after about another 30 minutes the stream was getting set hi to focus on another group and Damien moved to look at you and paused “Uh- are they asleep?” He didn’t wanna risk waking them up and quirked an eyebrow up as Courtney nodded and Shane covered his mouth “I was wondering where the facts and stuff went- we’re kinda keeping me off edge playing.” You heard them talking about you and groaned as you shifted and wrapped an arm around Damien and rolled your eyes “You guys suck-“ you huff and look up to see Damien looking down at you with a soft smile as you nuzzled against his chest to hide from his gaze and force the flush from your face to go away. Shane laughed and Courtney playfully ‘awed’ as Damien wrapped his arm around you “This is bullying-“ he joked and you chuckled as you sat up “We can play more later- it’s past my bedtime I’m such an old man.” The stream moved over to Angela, Arasha, Noah, Kieth, Ian and Anthony. Thy were playing the Quiet game and Ian was holding the noodle and had the blindfold on since he won the last pit challenge game.

The gaming group went to go get food and get into comfy clothes quickly, Damien in a baggy Smosh Tee-shirt and pajama pants, you in a tank top and a purple fuzzy sweatshirt that had bunny ears attached at the hood with matching pajama shorts. He saw you and his smile brightened for a moment but as soon as you look at him his gaze quickly moved away as he ignore the heat in his cheeks at just how cute you looked. You watched him for a few moments and approached him and playfully poked his chest “Hope I don’t look to ridiculous.” You chuckled as Courtney, Spencer and Shane came out in onesies- Eeyore (Shane, it was the biggest one they could find that wouldn’t rip at the seams) , Winnie the Pooh (Spencer, cause I mean come on) and Piglet (Courtney cause they knew they could make it match their makeup for the day.)

Shane moved forward and looked at you “Hey, your stealin Spencer’s vibe!” He teased softly as you turned and squinted at him and poked his chest “Fucker- I look more like Bonnie then I do any Winnie the Pooh character.” You huffed dramatically as Courtney saw you “Yes! Bonnie core!”

[fandoms-in-law]

Still Here 3

Reunion with Tommy

Story Summary: There's a lot of people with expectations of Steve and he's reached the point where he'll call out when they're wrong

Chapter Summary: Tommy comes into Family Video and perhaps both he and Steve have changed since high school

This is part 3. When written I will link the rest here: Part 1, 2, 4, 5

~

“Is that Harrington?” Steve heard the familiar voice ask just as he was taking the returns to the back so they didn’t have them out while a rush was happening.

Soon enough he was leant back behind the counter nodding at Tommy. “Yup, don’t expect applause for recognising me.”

“You’re still here? Dude, I could have sworn you’d be out.” Tommy tried to tease as he had done when they were friends.

“Still here and you’re still the same.” Steve raised his eyebrows, expecting something more to be said.

Tommy shook his head laughing instead of getting annoyed, “Nah, college changes you, man. We should hang out while I’m back. Catch up, have some drinks.”

“Don’t think I’ve got an evening free. And hey, when you manage to stay at college long enough to change you really should let me know. It’d be interesting to see.” Steve almost wanted to antagonise Tommy, see if the anger that he’d been so quick to lash out with really had been calmed, but didn’t want to be too much of a dick.

“Too bad, man, it would’ve been cool to recreate some of our best times.” He chuckled again, seeming unconcerned by one of the few implications that did wind Steve up still, being called unchanging all the time got exhausting.

Steve pulled a face, “Like what? Shot-gunning beers beside my pool? Dodging the cops when escaping a party? I’ve done enough other things that those aren’t the best by far.”

For a moment Tommy just watched him, before a soft smile Steve would never have imagined seeing grew, “No one found the answer yet. You’re still waiting for people to hear the question, aren’t you?”

“You made that harder for them.” Steve countered, remembering a joke they’d had in middle school, about neither of their parents knowing what they actually wanted. Tommy had wanted independence and the chance to make his own mistakes and he’d forced them into that through high school but Steve’s wishes were harder to define. “But I’ve got people who mostly know the question now.”

“Talking ‘bout me Dingus?” Robin nudged him with her hip while moving past him behind the counter. “Get Hagan to move on so you can actually help with these customers.”

Hagan glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow at Steve, not saying anything.

“Robin Buckley. She’s in band and not a girlfriend, just a moment that’s real.” Steve answered happily.

Tommy nodded as if that made perfect sense. “Look at us, two men, still here no matter what Hawkins or the World threw at us. If you want to catch up more, I’m staying at home for a bit.”

“See you around, Tommy.” Steve went to call the next customer but Tommy paused, smirking and tapping a video he hadn’t noticed on the counter.

“Thanks for not entirely wasting the time to catch up, now get out of here.” Steve laughed, putting the video through quickly.