#but other than that i ended up feeling a little underwhelmed i guess??

[ppulverse]

i think i hyped up this album too much tbh

[hoshigray]

I told you I was going to do it and here I am lmao. Any who reader and Toji are bumming on the couch watching a movie within the movie there is a spicy scene involving 69 that is mediocre. It gives reader an idea to make a bet with Toji to see who can last the longest. Toji isn't budging at first but when the reader mentions that they want to do in the same position within the movie (something they never did before) he gladly accepts the challenge. I'll leave the plot and ending up to you love. I know you will work your magic for him.

69 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 .ᐟ | toji fushiguro

hehehe ty jazz, i'll do my best for youuu ☆☆☆

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - masturbation (m! receiving) - 69 position - oral (f! + m! receiving) - impact play (spanking + f! receiving) - overstimulation - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - pet names (baby, doll, mama, pretty thing) - mention of saliva/spit. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k

“Wow….this movie kinda sucks.”

“Mhm…Aye, y’re the one who wanted to watch this shit.” 

“Well, I mean, at least it’s…semi-enjoyable.”

Toji and you were sitting on the couch, winding down in the living room after a nourishing dinner. One of the many things you liked to do with your man was to watch movies, figuring that would be a perfect thing to do during the downtime to chill and huddle with your man. What you didn’t expect, however, was how underwhelming the movie seemed. 

It was one of those rated R movies batted around within the year, figuring now would be an ideal time to get to it. Welp, it was entertaining enough for you two to continue watching. Now, being midway through, it’s getting a little frustrating to deal with. 

“Oh, okay…” annnnnd now the film has transitioned to an abrupt sex scene….how great. “I guess this is why it’s rated R.”

The sex scene you two were watching was…average at best. You’ve seen way spicier scenes in your life — hell, literal cringey porn you’ve watched with your friends was heavily more explicit than this. There was the rushed kissing, the frantic clothes coming off, no amount of foreplay whatsoever — just heading right into it, exaggerated cries coming from the woman as the guy frantically humps her nude frame.

You observe the scene through a neutral gaze as you lay against Toji’s side, his arm stretched to your shoulder to keep you close. But then, your head tilts when something on the screen catches your attention. 

The camera pans to the guy’s face, who’s lying on the bed as the other straddles them, facing his lower half. For a few seconds, you can only see the guy’s face until the camera follows him going closer to the girl’s ass that’s hovered before him. His tongue sticks out before he propels his mouth to her bottom, and her muffled moans can be heard off-screen with his grunts. 

Loud, amateur sounds aside, the position sparked something for you to turn and ask the following to your boyfriend: “Hey, Toji?” He hums, feeling the vibration of his voice from your hand on his chest. “Have you ever done that position?”

You can see his eyebrows trench down — not bewildered by your question, but pondering how he could answer truthfully. “Mmm…I think so? Been a long while, though.”

You nod aimlessly with your eyes glued to the screen, hearing the woman’s whimpers get a bit louder as the guy grasps her ass while “eating her out.” The thought of being on top of Toji and his mouth and hands on your body like that, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to remind yourself not to get too—

“Why you ask; ya horny?” Well, you can’t be too modest around this man, huh. You finally turn to look at him, prepared for the smirk he greets you with. A smile is all you reply with. “Sorry, baby, I don’t know about tonight. Kinda tired.” 

For a few seconds, you’re on his side. You understand he’s a little fatigued from work today and only wants to chill with his partner. However, a tiny part of you – the devilish cutie side – takes over and slides your hand from his chest. Down to his hard abs covered by his black wife beater, stopping at his clothed inner thigh, resulting in him hitching his breath. 

“Tired?” You say in a soft tune, your eyes peering down to your hand as it rubs on his thigh, inching further and further in. You take note of Toji’s fingers tapping on your shoulder – a silent warning. “Are you sure about that?” 

“You better move that hand, Y/n.” His body jolts when your hand creeps up to his groin, motioning around it with provocative kneads. 

“Hmm, why?” You play coy, placing kisses on the underside of his chin. “You tired of me?” 

He throws his head back at your soft lips, attacking his neck while your hand comes to the hem of his sweatpants. A shaky breath is released at the contact of your cold fingers on his warm erection. “Hmmm…could never be tired of you….Ahhh,“ your forefinger swipes around the glans.

“Then what are you so scared of?” You keep pressing on, sucking on his skin under your lips. His length gets firmer under your grasp, veins grazed by your fingertips. “Scared you wouldn’t last longer than me?”

“Ohh, don’t play with me, Y/n,” Toji grunts, the hand on your shoulder grips your cardigan. His erect cock throbs on your palm, and precum begins to leak out from you, playing with the tip. “–Mmmph…I already told you I wasn’t feelin’ it tonight.”

Liar, you say to yourself, noting him breathing slowly while you massage his balls. “Please, Toji?” You ask sweetly to his ear, his hand coming down to your waist as you stroke him off. “I never done that position before, but it looks real fun…I wanna do it with you.” 

Toji doesn’t give in easily, looking at you with a raised brow. So you throw in another please with an innocent pout and two bats of the eyes to seal the deal. He chortles; how can he say no to you looking at him like that? “Bet I can make you lose within the first few minutes.” 

You beam at him, “Bet I can make you cum first.”

“Y’re not gonna last for very long, princess, I can promise you that.”

A smirk pulls your cheeks. “Let’s try it out then.”

And just like that, with a mutual agreement, the challenge was put to the test. 

So here you are, straddling on top of Toji on the living room couch, both your bottoms and his sweats on the cold floor. Your bare ass out in front of him to see as he lies with his head on the couch pillow. Your front facing his legs, and his dick erected for you to lick and suck on. 

It started slow in the beginning; Toji massages your asscheeks as you lick around the glans and stroke his girth. “Mmmm, just like that, mama,” he praises, egging you on to take in more of him. Your mouth bobbing up and down his shaft, gradually taking in inch by inch until your mouth reaches the hilt. “Fuuck, feels so good…”

You aren’t forgotten either, Toji starting with slow licks, his tongue lapping your labia. You mewl on his cock, voluntarily moving your hips to satiate the throbs of your cunt. Shit, you love it when he eats you out, but this position makes you turn on even more — unable to see what he’s doing, letting his hands and tongue speak for himself. 

And you have to give it to yourself; you mangled to survive for a little while! The first minute was just him warming you up, teasing your folds with swishes to get you real wet as you blow him, his fingers groping your ass as his thumb plays around your ass taint. It all had you riled up, rocking your lower half so much that the man had to station you still for him to feast on your wetness properly. 

It wasn’t until you felt his tongue brush up on your clitoris did shit get serious. One sharp, muffled gasp paired with a jolt from your body. Of course, Toji noticed, his grin coming from ear to ear. “Oh, did I do that?” Yes, you did, you bastard. “Heh, you are not ready for this, baby…”

He says this before stuffing his mouth back into your leaky chasm so his tongue could swirl around your slit with vigor so rough that you nearly choked on your gasp for air. “—Oohh!! W–Wait, Toji, not so—Ahhn!” Fast licks have you squirm, prompting your man to keep you on him with his hands on your waist. It’s hard to concentrate giving Toji a blowjob with him nibbling on your labia before throwing more laps on your clitoris. 

“Wait, Toji, s-stoop; I’m gonna—Nnaaah!” Your fingers clamp around his girth, howling as he bullies his tongue to enter your vagina, his face buried nose-deep in your ass while sucking on your genitals. “Fuuck, oh shit, I can’t…Ohh, ohhh!!”

And just like that, you release into his mouth before you could even prepare yourself. Your trembling figure jolts with every shock coursing through your body. And Toji drinks your essence with every passing wave, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you straddled above him. 

Oh fuck, the clarity you experience is mind-blowing every time he eats you out — whimpers escape pretty lips as your sensitive nerves still receive gingerly laps on your soapy folds. That felt way too good, oh my God…

But it doesn’t stop there — no, no. Not with Toji, too pleased with how he made your legs tremble before him. He snickers while spreading your folds, “Pretty thing, look at you winking at me...Nnmm, so fuckin’ good…”

He brings his mouth back to your cunt, and you jerk from the contact as your body is still not rid of the shocks from the previous orgasm. You frantically call for him, trying to writhe your ass away from him. “Ohhnn, Toji, wait, let me rest for a—Ahhhnn!!“

A sharp pain comes from an abrupt smack to your buttcheek, the skin stinging from the impact of Toji’s hand. “Aht, aht, don’t try and run now. You talked big earlier, even when I warned you.” He smacks your ass again, his fingers digging deep into your flesh to pinch. You scream for him — that’s what he wants. “Now you’re gonna sit right here and let the winner have his fill.” 

You can’t argue with him from there; Toji’s hold on you not giving in to your attempts of mercy — same for his mouth on your delicate labia. The noises coming from there are so raunchy, downright erotic, way more than whatever the hell that movie was doing. You could only wail out your cries, eyes spiraling up to your head from every lap to your clit. No point fighting the pleasure, resting your head on his thigh.

But that was short-lived because Toji was quick to correct you with another slap to your butt. Shit came out of nowhere, almost choking on your spit. “C’mon now, doll, you can’t leave me hangin’ here. Suck me off, princess.” He rubs the pain on your butt away, yet you know he’d do it again if you weren’t compliant.

You bring his fat cock back to your face, licking on the tip while stroking him. You take in the head and suck him in, bobbing your head and coating his length with your saliva. Kisses to his glans result in him burrowing his face into your ass again, hungry lips ravishing your tender insides. Jesus, the way his tongue flicks on your clit has you humming on his cock nonstop.

Oh, God, oh fuuuuck, you remove your lips from Toji’s dick, yet your hand keeps gliding up and down. “—Mwah! Hoohhh, oohhh, Tojiiii…! Again, I’m gonna cum, again….Khaa—Ohhhhh!!”

The second orgasm hits you hard, more keenly than the last, and your body quivers on top of Toji once again. Whines come from wet lips as you descend into your haze, and your toes curl as Toji doesn’t withdraw himself until he’s satiated his thirst with every remnant of your fluids. 

With every jolt and shock flowing down your frame, you use this time to let your body ride this high out, placing chaste kisses on Toji’s cock. That is until you feel Toji suck on your folds suddenly. You jump and quake, turning around to beg. “Stooohp; let me rest, please!”

He gives you a smug look with a playful smack to your hot, stinging butt. “Done being curious now, mama?”

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[theesteppenwolf]

SPOILERS FOR LUCANIS ROMANCE

So i finished the game yesterday and i have to admit that i am pretty disappointed with how they handled his romance.

It severely lacks in reactivity from him because it really feels like he doesn’t have a response written in to some of the flirting and just continues talking. He has very short scenes and very few outings as opposed to other characters so it never really feels like there is enough happening in the relationship and the moments he does get are very underwhelming save the end game convos and the “backing away from flirting” scene.

His lock in scene was very awkward I was surprised that was the lock in romance scene at all and after that you get absolutely nothing with him. One coffee scene that is about him and spite that has a minuscule ending thing about you and until the end of the game that’s all you get. Even his combat dialogue stays pretty much the same, the stuff added you can’t even tell are romance specific.

If you don’t romance him or Neve they get together and it feels a lot more fleshed out than when he’s with Rook. I stopped having them together because it genuinely started to piss me off and i felt like i was third wheeling it. Even his fade quest implies his interest in Neve and not Rook and as a player romancing him how am i supposed to be completely fine with that?

(I love Neve and am not bashing on here but it was damn annoying)

Now i love his ending convos but the way you get there is dissatisfying to say the least. I filled in so much with headcanons and I shouldn’t have to.

I have to say even without the romance i think his lack of content does him a great disservice, just comparing how much you can talk with davrin or harding is wild. It feels like outside of him liking coffee and being a professional assassin they didn’t really know what to do with him.

Now i would definitely blame the lay offs for this but the fact that they managed to write out his relationship with Neve AND Bellara makes me feel a bit otherwise. And Mary Kirby has stated that she doesn’t like writing romance but the build up to his character really leads to very little.

This is just my little rant because I really do love the game, and when his scenes are good they are REALLY good, i adore his ending conversations but man, it’s just disappointing and frustrating getting there.

There is so much potential and stuff to work with and they just… did nothing. I’ll headcanon a lot and think of the wigmakers job to compensate i guess.

I don’t like being negative online, there is enough of that going around but i wanted to vent.

[oreosmama]

What's in a Virtue (Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader)---Part 2

*GIF not mine*

Summary:

Gaz wants you, but the hotel bar you work at has rules; when a bartender calls dibs, all others have to back off. It’s how the peace is kept, and as the new girl just trying to rack up some savings, you’re not willing to rock the boat.

But Gaz doesn’t take kindly to you avoiding him, and he’s never been one to beat around the bush. From confessing his love on the first night you met to shouting your name seven times from across the bar, he’s not letting you off the hook that easy. Not when he’s seen the proof that you’ve fallen just as hard for him.

A/N: umm so good news is second part is out as promised. Bad news is....this is not the end. I totally plan on making another part, but I don't know how soon that can be done considering life just began again. Guess we'll see. Enjoy!

Word count: 8193

Part 1

In hindsight, you’re not quite sure when you started falling so hard for the handsome guy from the bar. 

Yes, okay, there was initial attraction. Kyle was one in a million when it came to that. 

Then it was the way he looked at you. Like you saying his name and pouring him more scotch made his world spin. 

Kyle just made it so easy. Too easy. 

So dang easy that you felt guilty Jeanne was attracted to him too. You tried to convince yourself for a long, long time that he looked at her the same way. At every girl the same way. 

But that first night turned into the first week, which then turned into the first month. 

Your poor heart ached each time he slipped through the glass doors, grinned at you in relief. 

“Thank fuck you’re ’ere, love. Nobody in this bar knows how to pour a scotch better than you.”

And after that first touch, his warm fingers grappling after yours around the glass, you couldn’t fight it that easily anymore. Sure, you preferred people sober, but each time Kyle imbibed, he wanted a brush of your fingertips, and you did to. 

Everything about him screamed hard yet warm. He was big—special-forces big, apparently. And he had these little scars on his cheeks that you dreamt of at night. 

Where did they come from? Where else was he scarred? Why did a guy like him ever choose war over modeling?

Confounding. 

Even more confounding was that he liked teasing you, and only you. It was a little trampling over your feelings at first, all that fresh hope and nervousness each time he showered you with attention. But then it was steamrolling, too much all at once that you couldn’t think of him without your entire body slipping into a nervous tremble. 

Worst part was that you didn’t even know why he liked you so much. You were just as shitty a bartender as you were a failed medicine-or-anything student. You had nothing too offer him, not your too-big body nor your underwhelming lifestyle. 

But Jeanne… Jeanne was perfect for him. Loved all the stuff he did, hiking and swimming and everything you couldn’t do for five minutes without sweating up a storm. 

And just when it’s been a month and you think you’re so far in the hole for this hot tease of a customer who can’t seem to leave you alone—hot British tease, by the way, because how dare you forget him calling you “darling” with that accent—that you can’t even sleep at night without tossing and turning…

He’s gone. 

Kyle just disappears.

The same Kyle who leaves a perfect, Kyle’s-butt shaped butt-print on the dusty corner seat he loved so much. 

The same Kyle who, on the first night you met, was so damn snockered after seven scotches that he wouldn’t stop professing his love for you. (Not that he seemed to remember that the next day, or any day following, but you still hold the memory near and dear to your heart like the masochist you are.)

The same Kyle who stopped smelling like cigarettes after a while. Who once leaned over the bar just to push a little strand of hair behind your ear, rough fingertips pausing at your temple and brushing the skin in a small circle. “Just makin’ sure you’re safe ’nd sound” was the short mumble from his lips. 

Gone. 

Gave you his phone number before he left, and then hasn’t shown up to the bar for the last two weeks. 

He could’ve—well, he could’ve told you he was leaving. Warned you. Instead of this cold-turkey bullshit, you could have actually prepared. 

God. You wished you’d had time to prepare for this guy you’ve basically just met leaving you?

He’s made a mess of you.

Kyle, though… he’s Kyle. 

And two weeks without him has left you with a Kyle-hangover. You’re all achey and sad and bored—fucking bored. What happened to you being able to occupy yourself with thoughts twenty-four seven and treating men like a distant daydream?

Ironically enough, you miss not missing men just as much as you miss that man. 

Not for the first time in the last two weeks, you clock off after what has become some of the most miserable shifts of your life, and go home, curl up on your couch, and think about Kyle. 

You think about that moment where he’d demanded you for your phone, long fingers curling in a “give it here” gesture, so stern you barely recognized him. You huddle deeper into the leather cushions, feeling in your pocket for your phone. 

Timezones are tricky. Couple that with the fact that you have no idea where he even wound up, and you’re blindly searching through your phone for his contact with both eyes pinched closed, as though you’d be incriminated for the act if you saw yourself do it.

A ringing hums through the air, and you peek just to make sure you’re not being a fool for the second time tonight. Kyle (Hot Guy from the Bar) Garrick slides along your screen, bouncing back and forth so you can catch the entirety of what he’d typed. 

You can hear him saying it, like it’s tainted with his soft, playful tone. 

It’s the same voice telling you to leave a message now, and you’re so stunted by the familiarity of the sound that you don’t speak for another few seconds, having to reassure yourself that, no, that wasn’t actually him. 

A voicemail. You could leave that. 

Like all social interactions, you prefer them with a bit of distance and disconnect anyway, whether that be through phone or several glasses of alcohol. 

“Umm” is all you say for a while, staring down at the ticking seconds in your lap. 

Then “Hey” and “it’s me.”

After another pause, you realize he probably doesn’t know who “me” is, really, so you tag on your name. 

And another “umm.”

“I’m calling because…”

You don’t know. Honest to God. 

You don’t know why you’re sitting here on your couch, back straight as a pin, anxiously tearing your fingers through your hair and watching your phone screen with eyes so wide someone’d think it’s going to eat you. 

“You know, I—I don’t really know why I’m calling. I mean, you asked me to, and now that I’m sitting here, doing it, it kinda feels like a mind game or something. You could still pick up, you know. Put me out of my misery.” 

You pause. 

Wait a few seconds. 

“...But I guess you won’t be doing that. That’s great. Um.” You poke your tongue into your cheek, practically seizing up at this point. “I hope your mission’s going well. You know, stopping the… the bad guys and all that. And I hope that you’re—” safe. You don’t know if anything’s happened to him. It’s been two weeks, maybe that’s why he hasn’t called. 

You think you’re gonna be sick. 

“You know, it’d be really shitty if you gave me your phone number just to up and die on some top secret mission to save the world. I think that’d be pretty rude of you.”

Quiet, again. Still. You’re not even sure why you’d thought maybe you could hear his response. 

But he’s the superhero guy, the special soldier on a secret mission that involves killing bad, bad men and even worse organizations. 

So maybe it’s a little selfish of you to miss him. 

“Be safe. I mean, I’m sure you already know to do that, but, you know. Try harder at it, I guess. For me.”

You end the call and fight the urge to throw your phone as far away as possible, and go about your night like Kyle doesn’t even exist. 

This distance thing’ll be… easy. Maybe. 

~~~~~~

You call him the next morning. Can’t help it. 

Hearing his voice, even if it’s from the damn voicemail thingy, is soothing. Like a balm over your twinging chest. 

Leave him a message at the beep. Oh, you plan to. 

“It’s been,” you glance at your phone, “six hours since I last called you. I can’t sleep, so that’s gonna be your problem too. I had this dream where I was riding a unicorn—and I know you think this is gonna be cute or something, but just give me a second—and so we’re just galloping along in the forest, all magical like, and then suddenly I’m surrounded by these guys in SWAT gear and those helmet-binocular deals that you guys wear.”

You’re picking at your blanket, morning gunk still grimey over your teeth, wondering why your first thought of the new day—five a.m., by the way, and you have work until one a.m. tonight—was to call Kyle (Hot Guy from the Bar) Garrick.

“It was a bloodbath. My poor unicorn had to stab military men, so I’m blaming you for giving me a horrific dream like that, Mr. Military Man. Awful rude of you to drag me into the horrors of war like that. And no, you will not be forgiven until you call me back. Goodbye.”

You can’t go back to sleep. Not after that. You’ve scarred yourself sending something so mindlessly ridiculous to a man who has legitimate work to do—might even have one of the most valid jobs on the planet, and you were whining to him about your weeny nightmare. 

So you spend the rest of your day meaninglessly-choring your way to the beginning of your bartending shift. 

Jeanne hasn’t asked where Kyle’s been. She’s got a new target, a rich businessman who mainly operates in the field of pool floaties. Luckily for him, it’s almost July, which means business is lively, and so too is her interest in him. 

It’s around that time that you realize Kyle was valid in denying her at every turn, but your guilt is still slow to fade. 

Then your phone buzzes in your pocket.  

Kyle.

You whip your finger across the screen, almost dropping the phone in your haste, and read the text. 

Reread it a couple more times, because you kind of don’t understand it.

It’s not heartfelt by any means. Not Earth-shattering. And you ponder over it for the rest of your shift, glancing at it every few minutes instead of responding, because it’s so short and succinct that you get the sense it’s all he could manage during his mission. 

All it says is “More.”

~~~~~~

Calling Kyle becomes a comfort. During breaks, after bad days, sometimes early in the morning when you were too exhausted the night before. 

You feel like a fool after some time. He never once sends another text or calls back, and this time you really think he’s gone. 

But there’s a hole your apartment’s silence can’t quite fill anymore, a quiet where Kyle’s lively chatter used to be at the bar. 

So you fill it like he’s still there with you. 

The third voicemail that you leave him begins with “You never told me your favorite drink.” You spend a half hour rambling about the different drinks you could have made him, how you’re getting better at it in his absence—you’ll even make him another Mai Tai to prove it, if he promised to come back—and how scotch is horrible. You’ve tried it for the first time, and you don’t believe for a second that it’s his preference, even if he’s a hardened soldier trying to wash the pain away. 

You don’t buy it. He’s an umbrella-drink kind of guy. 

The fourth is about how you’re rethinking things. So many things, while he’s gone. You’re rethinking what you want from life, considering going back and giving school the old college try one more time. You’d had these big dreams before you’d been cowed into submission by doubts and debt. Doctor of… well, something. Anything, really. You’d just always thought doctor looked good in front of your last name. 

It looks good in front of Garrick, too. Doctor Garrick, that actually sounds pretty cool, and—oh shit, you don’t mean it like that. Not like you’d be his… 

Anyway. 

The fifth through twenty-seventh voicemails follow the same pattern. Random thoughts you’ve come up with throughout the day combined with ponderings cranky customers have drawn out of you. 

None of it, you’re certain, is interesting to Kyle at all. 

Not when he’s on a mission, taking down the evil guys and saving lives. Risking his own in the process. 

But you can’t bring yourself to stop, too caught up in the text he sent you and how blatant he’d been about his interest before he left. 

No funny business. Just you. 

That’s what he’d wanted. 

And he’d wanted “more,” too. 

Good thing you’re willing to give it to him, highly concentrated and in a large number of doses. 

You’re a giver, after all. Maybe he hasn’t noticed it yet, but if he needs these calls from you, obnoxious little chats about the mundane side of life, you’ll do that for him. Because Kyle is a good guy, and you want that chance, however slim it may be, to prove that he passed on his number for good reason. 

So you keep calling, let the voicemails stack up and up as weeks go on, continue working behind the scenes of his life, hoping it’s not all in vain. 

~~~~~~

Gaz lets the phone drop back down to his side on the barracks bunk, smiling like an idiot at the ceiling. 

He’d been a tad nervous that you’d stop after a while, sometimes considered breaking Price’s no phone rule—he never would, of course; AQ can track the IPs of outgoing signals, and the last chance he’d had to send you a message was just before moving hideouts. 

But they’ve been in too deep the past few weeks to let his wants trump the importance of the mission. 

Plus, you’d obviously understood what “More” had meant. You certainly hadn’t given him less, at any point. There was only one three-day hiatus that made him strangle the shoulder straps of his chest gear so hard the fabric cinched and remained wrought. 

And then you’d called, all apologetic and sniffly because you’d gotten some kind of bug despite it being the middle of summer—which was so fucked, in your opinion. 

They’re flying back tomorrow. Through pure luck alone, it was a shorter mission than most, a two-month intel grab that ended with only enemies KIA, but Gaz knew what was coming. 

Short missions like this meant something big was on the horizon. 

Which meant that he had to make a decision soon to lock you down or let you go. 

Not getting to hear your voice during a mission like he did now? It sounds fucking devastating. But asking you to stick around for his flighty lifestyle, spend months mucking about on your own, worrying about him and his lack of contact—it was a lot. Ultimately it’d be your choice, and Gaz is terrified that he can’t predict what you’d choose; it feels like defusing a bomb with sweaty fingers, or running out of mags in the middle of the field. 

Things were out of his hands the second he put his phone number into yours and begged you to stick around. 

He’ll have to get on his knees this time.

He’s already asked a fellow soldier, one of the American Marines who’d been recruited for a building sweep, for a ride to the hotel. By his count, he’ll be there around eight in the morning, just early enough to catch you and only you. 

Gaz isn’t quite sure what he plans on doing. Something horribly twee, if past experience is anything to go by. Can’t quite get a conscious hold of himself when he sees you. 

And it’d be bloody fuckin’ embarrassing, the way his nerves buzz just under his skin, if he was this excited for anyone but you. 

But it’s eleven pm where he’s at and you just left a message bellyaching about his radio silence again. You’ve found a way to make scotch even worse and you’re going to torture him with it next time you see his face—you promise. Unless and only unless he messages you in the next five minutes with his favorite drink so you can practice. 

It’s terrible and a bit rude, the way you can toy with his feelings through kindness. His little puppet master twisting his heartstrings so tight he can never truly unravel, all with the tenderness of a damn saint. 

Gaz stares at your name in his phone. He works out the hours, then the minutes and eventually seconds until he gets to see you, and can finally stop fawning over the photo he’d found from your public high school’s online yearbook. He’s pretty sure you don’t have that zit anymore, at least, but it’s been too damn long and he’s due a verifiable fact-check. 

His return can’t be too big. You’re not a pomp-and-circumstance kind of gal, too uncertain of your own worth to ever happily accept flowers and fanfare, even if it was just the two of you. 

He’ll work you up to things like that. Over months. Years, hopefully. A lifetime, if the universe ever acknowledges the debt it owes him for the shit he puts up with. 

But for now, he plans for small. Modest and tame. 

Something to soothe that little prey heart that itches to run each time he flirts too loud and smiles too widely (because for some reason you can’t believe you draw it out of him, which, admittedly, preserves his pride a bit). 

Suddenly, he’s got just the thing. 

~~~~~~

Eight-fucking-thirty a.m. 

Who on God’s green Earth opens a bar at eight-thirty a.m.?

Surely not the hotel director, who you’ve only seen once and with pinot staining his white mustache, of all things. 

Couldn’t be one of the many, many bar managers who, thank God for them, only work at night. They couldn’t imagine working a bar in the morning, only serving those depressing early birds and the real addicts, haha. 

Real. Fucking. Funny. 

You’re not a morning person. Never have been, never will be. 

But when Jeanne says these are the hours that nobody else wants, during which almost no customers show up, and implies that you’ll pretty much be paid to sit on your ass and do nothing, well… by God, you will be there at eight-thirty sharp, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. 

Except the only thing that’s bright is the goddamned sun outside the windows—too bright—and your bushy tail is more of a bushy mane, as you woke up about thirty minutes ago, almost late to serve fucking no one, and didn’t bother to tame it with any manner of spray or hairbrush. 

To be frank, you’re a disaster. You look like you were caught in the Tasmanian Devil’s warpath, and you have the attitude to match. 

You thunk your bag down on one of the few empty shelves in the bar’s storage room and groan, wiping a hand over your face. The only thing that could make you feel better right now would be…

God, you just love to torture yourself, don’t you?

It’s been two months. Kyle’s not going to answer. He hasn’t responded to your texts. You don’t even know if he’s alive. 

But you miss him like he is. You miss him like you know he’s on the cusp of returning any second now, and you’re standing at the door, waiting to tear it open and pull him in so close you can smell that cheeky cologne he barely deserves to wear. 

Woodsy musk and cinnamon. Shameful that you remember it so distinctly. That you’d once wandered into the men’s shampoo aisle in a Walmart to try and figure out the word for the dark, elusive scent that clung to him like a second skin. 

It wasn’t there, which means he’s fancier than your budget can comprehend. 

Or that’s just him, and he exuded it so robustly when he’d been here that you can smell it now, drawing you out of the backroom with your phone in hand, thumb hovering over his name. 

Music is playing, which is confusing because you haven’t touched the radio yet. It’s the slow croon of your guilty pleasure song, the one you love ‘ironically.’ The song you’d confided in only one other soul about. 

“Careless Whisper” plays with a slow cadence in the furthest reaches of the bar.

It comes from the same place where two brown eyes are sliding over you at a debilitating pace. 

“Fuck me” falls from those lips, that wicked British accent, as he takes in your hips for a while, then your chest, where your heart pounds so damn hard you think he can see it. Then he watches the little jump in your throat as you swallow, and he wets over his lips before glancing up to yours. Stays there, for a long, long time. 

Then he meets your eyes, and the stutter in his breath is so damn loud.

Kyle. 

Your soldier. 

The man you’ve been calling for months, with no response. 

His face is littered with an array of new wounds, like little scrapes on the apples of his cheeks you get the most bizarre urge to run your tongue over. A split in the smooth skin of his forehead, a paling scar seated in his unshaven jaw. 

His hair’s a little more clean-cut. Perks of heading out for a mission, maybe. 

And his long lashes shadow over the yearning look he’s got locked on you, sharpening and honing it like they’re fibrous whetstone. 

You’re a bit breathless as you round the bar, even more so when Kyle jolts toward you. Out of his devilishly tight black tee peeks a strip of white wrapped around his bicep, and one of his thighs is thicker than the other, suffering the same treatment under his jeans. But he makes his way closer—too slowly—and tries to stave off a wince when he gets too excited, takes a step a bit too fast. 

“Been waitin’ out here for hours, love,” he murmurs, voice breathy but rough. He holds out a hand, curls his longer fingers over yours so tight they can barely tremble. “You still got that scotch ready f’me?”

Your mind floats over the joke completely, instead filling you with worries and urges you can’t fulfill all at once. 

Because, God, it’s Kyle. Your Kyle. And he’s looking at you like that’s all he’s wanted to be. 

And he’s injured. 

He tries shrugging off your hand the second you reach for his face, fingertips hovering over the stiffness under his right eye as he mutters a “Love, don’t worry about it. ’S’better than it looks.”

“Kyle,” you whisper. His other hand falls to your hip, constricting iron-stiff around the soft flesh. 

“M’not broken, darling. Promise.”

And, because you’ve always wanted to, you cup his cheek, a puff of air bouncing off your lips when he leans into it. Turns towards the pliable skin of your palm, like he’s going to run his lips over it, but pauses when he feels you tense up. 

Something in his eyes darkens, makes you feel almost ashamed at the nervous reaction, but it’s just so much. You’ve missed him. You’re not accustomed to this, and it’s starting to dawn on you that this moment, however right and perfect and perfect perfect perfect it feels is still so fast. 

Two months. You haven’t seen him for two months. 

And now that he’s back, it feels like the two of you have been greeting each other like this forever. 

How can he make you fall so fast and still have you feeling like you’re pacing yourself?

This can’t be right, it can’t be—

“Dance with me. C’mon, before that horrible brain of yours blows a fuse about all this.”

“Careless Whisper” and that dashing smile of his, and all of his touch and proximity gets your mind all fuzzy. A good fuzzy. A quieting fuzzy. 

He’s getting too good at this is a thought that tries to stick, but recedes back into the murkiness when Kyle starts to sway. 

He urges your hips and feet to follow his lead. It’s far too easy to give in and let him have control, especially as he pulls you in a little closer, rearranges your hands and bodies until the noticeable space becomes the noticeable lack thereof. 

You’re tucked into his broad chest, warm and sturdy against you. 

He’d placed your hand right over his heart with a meaningful look in his eyes, waited until you felt the frantic thumpthumpthumpthump that leaves your face hot. 

Kyle was always confident around you. He always seemed to know what he was doing, because he was always obvious about what he’d wanted. 

But you didn’t know that you, of all people, could have this effect on him. 

That flutter of pulsations under your fingertips.

His head ducking low until his face is nestled into your collarbone.

The arm that swings around behind you until the crook of his elbow is caught in the dip of your waist and his broad palm is flattened against your opposite hip. 

It’s a little hard to face this moment, being how you are. It feels beautiful. Too beautiful for someone like you. You’re chest is so full, heart so quick, head so wondrously empty. 

You can’t think past the back-and-forth scrape of Kyle’s fingers underneath your shirt’s hem. 

But you feel like apologizing for something. Maybe you’d say sorry for how you feel in his arms, too big surely, despite the way he’s wrangled around you and holding so tight it’d take a solid minute for him to let go. Maybe you should apologize for the stupid song that’s playing, the one that everybody hates, you guess, even though you love it. Maybe you’re sorry about—

Wait. 

“You listened to all those messages?”

Kyle doesn’t make a sound. At first, at least. 

Then…

“They were the only things that kept me hangin’ on, love.” Where his lips brush these words into your skin, the nerves underneath throb. 

A sorry feels cruel on your tongue after that. 

Kyle hums into the silence, singing along a bit when the song repeats for a third time, then a forth, and your hair sticks to his face as he draws away. 

He looks like a fool, but a lovesick one more than anything. It’s dumb and stupid and ridiculous that he has to brush your hair off his face, and even more dumb that he looks like he���s enjoying it so damn much his face is split in two, top and bottom with only pearly whites in between. 

 A fool for doing all this for you, for wanting you so bad when he could replicate this with anyone, someone much prettier, and have them forever. 

“I don’t even wanna know what that dreadful mind of yours is concocting right now, darling. Don’t wanna hear a lick of it, because I know it’d make me so mad, too mad for a moment like this.”

“I don’t want to hear it either,” you whisper, letting your gaze fall to where your hand lay, to where Kyle’s heart gives off an indignant thud. 

The knuckle of his index finger knocks against your chin. “Let me silence it then, yeah?” His head tilts in an innocent way, almost distracting from how quick his heartbeats are now, agitated into a frenzy.

You nod, only partly because you’re a little worried he’ll go into cardiac arrest if you don’t. Mostly because you’ve heard about half of what he’s said by now, the rest of your brain designated to determining what he’s drawing into the curve of your hip. The hard press of his fingers is ruinous to your mental stability. 

That—right there—has to be a G. That’s the first symbol you’ve managed to decode so far. 

Kyle’s lips are so close when you tilt your head up again, and the intensity of his attention has increased tenfold. You wonder if you’d ever considered this to be the end result of all your phone calls, those nonsensical anecdotes every other twelve hours that you’d felt so guilty about sending. It felt like you’d been wasting his precious time. 

But his fervid grip on your body has you thinking the complete opposite way—that instead, you’ve been feeding this needy man before you far too much, a gratuitous enough amount that you’ve tracked him back to your house like a wild wolf you’re not really sure how to treat in the confines of your own home. 

You meant it when you said the distance made it easy. 

A is the second letter.

You wonder distantly if its shape is now bruised into the fleshy tissue of your side. 

And you wonder if he’s ever going to kiss you, leaning in so close like that.

~~~~~~

Gaz has to draw the line soon. He’s gotta find it first, but he’s so damn scared he’s gotten too close without even realizing it. 

The skin at that little sloping line between your neck and collarbone is all hot and smooth. He almost sunk his teeth into it, wanted to bite you a little and hear that little rabbit squeak of yours before you tore away, flustered. 

He can barely fight off the urge of giving the same treatment to that trembling lower lip, the fatty one you’ve ran your tongue over deliciously quick, like you thought he wouldn’t notice. 

Would it be so bad if you let him worry at it with his own teeth? Let your lips get all puffy and red from his touch, and only his?

But he’s pushing the boundaries too much all over again, and you’re back to shaking. It’s a good tremble, one he can feel through the muscles of his forearm, the one that’s flush with your spine. You’re all excited, and it’s because of him. 

All good things. 

But he knows you, knows the martyr that you are. Knows that if he feeds you now, you’ll think that’s the only meal you need and deserve, and you’ll tear away from his hold all over again, because you haven’t been giving enough. You’ve received too much already; he can see it in your eyes. 

Gaz walked in here a little too generous after all those phone calls. He thought you’d expect a reward for your diligence, and instead you’re acting like it was a burden. Undue torture for him to draw away like that, in his humble opinion. 

But fine. He won’t kiss you. Not yet. 

He pulls back a bit, unraveling his arm around your waist and settling for spelling Garrick into your other hip with a bruising pressure. It’s high time the other side of your body received the same treatment, anyway. 

If he’s tasked with quieting your mind, he’ll have to do it the less fun way. 

“So,” he mumbles, a bit ticked at how the words disturb the air, “come here often?”

A surprised laugh tears out of your throat, and you tip your head back until the delectable line of your jaw is all he can see. 

Foul play. 

Patience. Fuckin’—God, patience. He almost forgot.

Almost slipped that fucking leash. 

“You’re horrible,” you admonish with a grin, fingers curling up at his left pectoral. 

“You love it,” he whispers back. If there’s any shred of him that’s lost faith in how you feel for him, it’s the same hand that forces his last name into your hip. It wanders, for a second, up your back, behind your ribs, until he can feel that off-kilter thrumming that matches his own. 

Feels that stutter at his words.

“Love, huh?”

He tries not to freeze up. If you felt that from him, you’d have a little spike of doubt pierce right into that ever-working brain of yours. 

Gaz is so pissed he let that word slip, even casually, and scans over your face, trying to read how it landed. You were casual about it, too, but he knows that’s a touchy subject to push on. He’s toppling into bad territory. If you pulled away from him now…

“Cheesy shit like that is all I hear at my job.” Garrick Garrick Garrick. He’s pressing the letters into your spine now. “Honest. Dad jokes every morning. I’m the last one you have to worry about. It’s like going on a mission with a comedy club, that crew.”

Your smile eases up a bit, and you relax into the moment again. 

“You barely talk about your job.” You look away, seemingly finding the wooden-paneled walls far more interesting. “I didn’t know that topic was on the table.”

“The good parts are. That’s all I’ll ever want you to hear about.”

“I didn’t know you were so protective.”

Gaz is nipping at the bits to respond to that exactly the way he knows how. Of fucking course I am. It’s you. But he can’t rephrase it in any way that would soothe and not scare you off. 

So he lets your comment hang in the silence as you sway.

~~~~~~

When Kyle leaves the bar, at first it feels an awful lot like when he left that very first time. A bit disappointing that the hot, crazy drunk guy won’t be entertaining you for the rest of the night. Won’t be screaming I love you sooooo much, miss bartender gal until you clock off. 

The feeling makes you wistful.

Then—

Oh fuck—

It starts to feel like when he left for his mission. When you didn’t know if he’d ever come back, and you just missed him so damn much you couldn’t think straight, wanted to hear his voice one more time and not just saying “Leave a message at the beep.”

When you drove yourself crazy thinking about the little touches. When you dreamed about him far too much than was normal. When, more than anything, you wanted him to give in to all those little urges he seemed to hold back from you, that little grimace winding his lips when you swept to close or said something even remotely suggestive. 

And you know you don’t deserve it. You’re not fit to be the girl of his affections, the one he comes home to each time he returns from a mission and greets with a kiss. 

But it doesn’t stop you from imagining that you could be. 

You’d try to repay him for his love each time he comes home by greeting him with his favorite meal and drink. You’d massage the corded muscles of his arms and back, lead him with a shy smile into the bath set for two, and he’d have that same hungry look as you stripped to join him, splashing water everywhere in effort to tug you over to his end of the tub. 

You’d sit on his couch each day, scratching his scalp as you read a book, listening to the soft snores as he napped. You’d dance with him in the kitchen like you did today, slow sways to a song he liked this time, and then you’d play your favorite again, just to listen to those soft hums of his crooning along…

Oh God. 

You want Kyle. So damn bad.

You want his body. You want his hands all over you, eyes raking over your face, legs twisting against yours. 

You want every little thought running through his mind. You want his attention. You want his laughs, his cries, his silence when he’s protecting you from his memories. 

You want him shamelessly. Constantly. Perpetually. 

You want him so bad that you could give two shits whether you deserved him or not. 

You’d do everything in your power to earn it. Pour in your love and heart and soul into building something with him. 

And best of all, you can’t bring yourself to regret it. 

You don’t regret the way you call him that night, pleading for him to come over. It’s three a.m., and his voice is groggy and exhausted over the phone, accent thick as he grumbles, “Love, what’s wrong? What’s happened? Oh, you’re cryin’, darling, tell me where you are. I’ll be there sooner than possible.”

You relapse so hard that night. The second you saw his face all over again, you knew you couldn’t go without him. A Kyle-addict, and you didn’t even notice until it was too late. 

He’s shouting, yelling at your door like a mad drunk, but you didn’t give him any scotch that morning. None of that whiskey sour either, the one he revealed was his favorite, but knew Americans wouldn’t get right. 

You tear open the door. His clothes are in disarray, buttons all wonky. His eyes are wild and wandering over you. His hands are curled tight around your doorway, blood sapping away from his knuckles because he’s holding himself back so hard. 

You don’t care. He shouldn’t bother anymore. 

You make the first jolt toward him, and his face melts into awe.

Kyle’s lips, they taste like….

Fuck, you whine a little into his mouth. 

Like fucking rain. Like a dream. Like clouds and floating untethered.

But also corporeal, grounding. Like plain chapstick and a bit of toothpaste. They taste like fingers winding so deep into your hair and hips pushing at yours until you stumble into your living room. They taste like Kyle blindly kicking the door shut, like him pulling back with a gasp and being aglow with ardent moonlight, like him reading every little emotion on your face and shaking his head, mumbling a “fucking finally.” He tilts your head up a bit higher, swivels your face to the side so your moans bounce off the walls as he drags his tongue along your jawline, down the warm column of your throat. And then you lurch, eyes flying open as he bites into the crux of your neck and shoulder. 

“Kyle!” Your nails dig into his back, drag down and dig in again at the same tempo as his bite-pull-back-bite-again. And he does the same to the rest of your body, every little inch that gradually presents itself when the clothes come off. His lips and teeth wander without bias, but each time you try to speak he drags himself back up to your ear and shushes, soothes your concerns with mindless mutterings along the lines of “Just lemme—gimme a bit to—fuck, love” and “Need a bit of patience, darling. I’m tryin’ to play here.”

He controls every second of it. All of it. 

Like he wouldn’t stand for a single mistake. Like he needs you to know it’s worth it. 

The sun showers over him when he’s trembling, sweating, hovering over you, hands intertwined with yours, peppering your face with kisses despite his rapid chest rising and falling, when he finally collapses against you, around and inside and generally being everything he can to you in this moment. He’s bigger than the bed, bigger than the apartment, bigger than that bar and your world. 

Kyle’s smile, still charming and exhausted, is the last thing you see as he coos you to sleep. 

~~~~~~

Gaz has to bat your hand away from your phone for the seventh time. “Jus’ fuckin’ ignore it,” he hisses into your stomach. “Bloody fuckin’ thing ruinin’ this beautiful mornin’ we’re having.”

“It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, what about it?”

Despite your phone—Jeanne calling, apparently, because you’re three hours late to work, and you could’ve at least warned her you were going to be honeymooning off with the newly returned soldier boy (she’ll give you a sick day)—ruining the moment, it was still the best awakening he’s had in his adult life.

Maybe even better than birthday chocolate chip pancakes when he was a kid. 

No. Wait.

Definitely better.

He woke up to a soft caress against his cheek, found himself buried into your chest. Your breasts, as it turns out, are even more beautiful to begin his day with watching than any sunrise. 

He tore his gaze up higher and found you staring down at him, gentle smile on your lips. Your fingertips were tracing over his scars, thumbing at his lips every now and then. 

It’s not right that he hasn’t woken up like this before. Part of it makes him think he hasn’t really been living until right now, when he can’t think past your hot skin and plush thighs nuzzled close to his stomach. 

“Don’t mind this one bit, darling,” he’d said, dropping his head to feather his mouth over your belly button. “Can we stay like this forever?”

It’s genuine, and he can tell you know he means it because your cheeks turn pink. Surely it’s a lot for you in this moment. Your split-second decision last night was just that, and on his taxi ride over he’d worried himself over how you’d react the next morning. 

Your brows furrow, and your lips purse real tight while you think. 

Gaz’s trained himself to fear your thinking, but he holds off on distracting you from it now. Plays fair, even though he could be kissing his way down further and further until he could force a promise out of you; a gaspy, whiney one. 

But that wouldn’t do. He needs that rabbit brain of yours that likes to kick out and scurry away to agree with him for once, that yes, you want him to stay. You always will. 

And before he knows it, you’re cupping both sides of his face, drawing him up onto his forearms, making him crawl up your body until you press one long, hard kiss to his lips before muttering, “Yes. Let’s do it.”

Your thumbs swipe under his eyes, no doubt bothered by the dark circles, but the rumble of his voice as he praises you for giving in must tell you he’s gotten plenty of sleep. He made sure he did all of the work last night, had you follow each and every one of his commands to sit, stay, and let him take care of you, for fuck’s sake, or it’ll kill him.

All his energy, all that stamina was worked to the bone, and he feels like a puddle of goo against your form. He presses another kiss to your lips before trailing his way back down, nestling into your stomach while informing you that you’d make a damn good pillow every morning. 

~~~~~~

You’re certain nothing could ruin this moment. 

Kyle’s already back to snoring softly, little grumbles against the skin between your breasts, hands starfished at your thigh and lower back. He looks ten years younger curled up against you, the wrinkles of his face smoothed out through thorough exhaustion. 

Just seven hours ago he’d smiled at you, somehow more doting than the last, his skin dewed with sweat, and collapsed into your hold. He’d been content to run himself ragged, and now that he’s got you thoroughly trapped underneath his muscled, form, he seems intent on not moving an inch. 

His wounds still unnerve you. The bandages from yesterday could use a change, damp and wrinkled around his bare thigh and biceps. But from your position, your head leveraged on a pillow, you can see pale, ravaged skin from botched stitches and bullet holes. Uneven gouges and linear scrapes, wounds whose origins would surely pain you to listen to—most of all because he’d say it with such nonchalance. 

It’s hard to turn the sweet Kyle from the bar into this war-broken soldier before you, hard to combine them into one person and have it make complete sense. Like water and oil, the pair of them refuse to mix into one. 

You’re running the tip of your middle finger along one particularly horrifying line running diagonally down his nape when he wakes up again. His head lifts, and you let your hand slide with the movement until you’re cupping his cheek and he’s leaning into your hold. A wet kiss cools on the inside of your wrist when Kyle gets close enough. 

His limbs wrangle even tighter with yours. “What time is it now?”

“Two-thirty.”

His pretty brown eyes are locked on your face, a gentle roaming back and forth in rhythm with the slow strokes of his index finger against your knee. 

“Good. A few more hours and I’ll have kept you here all day. A personal record, one I’ll flaunt with honor.”

“We’ll have to get up at some point.”

“Maybe I’ll trap you here all week,” he ignores you, all serious consideration now. “I’ll have to check my rope supply.”

“You know, there are easier, less illegal ways to entice me into staying.”

“Don’t like riskin’ it with you.” He draws himself up and leans in, and you tilt closer to accept his peppering of kisses over your forehead, across your cheeks, down your jawline. “Each time I try to do it the nice way, you manage to slip away from me. Have to start playin’ for keeps now.”

You’re not sure if you love Kyle. 

You know you’re not quite in the same place as he is emotionally. But he certainly knows how to put you on the fast track to get there, and it starts with the way he cradles you closer—always a little bit closer—and nudges his nose just underneath your ear, releasing a sigh like touching you can make all the horrors, worries, fears slip away. Like you’re a magical woman. 

You feel like you’re made of magic, anyway. 

And you don’t regret any of the decisions you’ve made since calling him last night. Hell, since calling him that first time, when he was thousands of miles away, and all he wanted was more. 

~~~~~~

Gaz has a bad urge. A terrible one. Bloody fuckin’ day ruiner of an urge that has him peeling away and hiding out in your bathroom for too long after relieving himself. 

He’s staring at himself in the mirror while he dries off clean hands, investigating that dark mark you’d sucked into the side of his neck before he could untangle from you. 

Bad, bad, bad Gaz. 

It’s too soon. 

You don’t take “too soons” very well. Can’t handle them. 

But, well, biased as he is, Gaz thinks he looks more alive than he has in months. 

And all it was was you, injected into his veins and flowing back to his heart before being properly dispersed throughout the rest of his body, even distribution of needing you every hour of every day until he can’t even curl his toes without thoughts of you. 

No. He really, really shouldn’t.

He won’t.

Gaz steps out of your bathroom and fumbles his way through your apartment, following the sounds of humming and beeping. 

Almost blacks out at what he finds. 

You, bent over and retrieving a frying pan from your cupboards, rising up until your standing tall, wearing his goddamned shirt. The black cotton hugs your thick figure tight, but it’s too long, caps off somewhere near the tops of your thighs, lace panties barely twinkling at him just underneath

Fuckin’ Christ, bloody Jesus, Hell on a—

“Love,” he chokes on the word. “Darling. You’re killin’ me here, bunny.”

Fuck it. 

Seriously—fuck it. 

He’s gonna ask. It’s not too soon. Not for him. Not when it comes to you. 

You laugh a little. “Sorry. I know, I know, it’s too tight. But I was too lazy to find something else, so if you really want it back—”

“No.”

You pause, smile locked on your face. “Okay then. Good. Glad that’s settled. I’ll just keep making breakfast then.”

You’re on your tippy toes now, reaching high to the small pantry above your stove, fingertipping at a box of pancake mix. 

“Could you…?”

“Yeah.” He’s behind you in a matter of blinks, broad chest brushing your back before you can dart out of the way, even grasping your hip with one hand and passing you the box with the other. 

You take it from him with a fumbled thank you, the words stuttering their way out of your mouth as he swipes your hair back and behind your ear. “What’s on the menu, then, love?”

He can practically feel the current of chills slinking down your spine. He follows you, chest still against your back, step for step as you putter around, finding a whisk, a carton of milk, and… a bag of chocolate chips. 

Fuckin’ hell, don’t tell me.

“Pancakes. I’m adding chocolate chips because they’re my favorite, so don’t you dare bitch about—what, what is it?”

You palm at his forehead in confusion when he buries his face into your shoulder and groans. 

Fool. Bloody fuckin’ fool, dumbass bastard ruining everything after one goddamn night. It’s too damn soon. It’ll ruin everything.

“Love, I hafta—”

A cacophony of beeps cut through the air, and your attention slips to the microwave, where a cup sits aglow in the yellow light. 

“Sorry, that’s for my tea—”

He’s really doing this. 

Fuck it. 

Fuck. 

It.

“Move in with me.”

~~~~~~

Part 3

[arcadiabaytornado]

SPOILERS AHEAD Episode 5 Double Exposure Rapid Fire Thoughts After I Just Finished Two Route's:

A: I'm still so conflicted about Safi. I ended up refusing to help her because A: I do think she went to far multiple times. B: I don't feel like she really learned a lesson here. C: She broke her promises to Max by shapeshifting into Max and Amanda. If she can't even keep a promise like that then she's not someone Max can trust. HOWEVER...I do like her character in the evil type of way. I'm so bummed that we were so close to getting toxic yuri and then the game ripped it away. /hj

B: So. I don't like Amanda. At all. Will not be romancing again. She's just so...I literally don't know she see's in Max?? Every time Max speaks she's gets irritated, and she straight up says that she "dodged a bullet" if Max friendzoned her. I will admit I didn't really think about the moral implications about romancing someone on one timeline after being rejecting in the other, and I do think it's interesting that the game brought it up. I've literally never seen that addressed in a time travel story.

C: I can't believe how much I like Vinh?? He grew on me a lot through the course of the story, and I ended up liking his romance more than Amanda's, which is CRAZY. Him comparing Max to tarot card's in his social media message was cute, and I liked their little "focus on what's in front of you" exchange. (Though I prefer the Vinh/Max friendship route, I think) Overall I ended up really liking Vinh and his messiness, honestly he's one of my new favorites for all his nuances and complexities.

D: My favorite new character introduced in this game is Moses. He's been a great friend to Max since the start, and I really hope we get him again some day.

More Undercut

E: They did so much Arcadia Bay/Chloe stuff in this episode, and I still feel like they didn't do enough??? They just explore any route thoroughly enough for tastes, but I did up preferring the Bae route again so, there's that. TBH I'm not holding out much hope that Max and Chloe will get back together. I would L O V E to be wrong....but IDK.

F: Diamond has powers I guess? I don't really have a lot of thoughts of her character TBH, and that's because I don't have a lot of thoughts on MOST of the characters. The only characters I ended up having any feelings toward were: Max, Gwen, Safi, Vinh, and Moses. The rest of them just faded into background noise for me, and I think a major complaint that I have is that every character feels kind of underdeveloped in a specific way that varies from character to character.

G: The end choice was...fine I guess?? For me it was the worst end choice in the franchise, and I feel like in the sequel it will only lead to a few small dialogue changes.

H: I I'd rate the game overall a 7/10, but I'd only rank this episode a 5/10. When the chapter ended my first thought was "What am I even supposed to say about this? It was underwhelming? It was slow? It made the entire game feel kind of pointless?" I'm not really finding any words it just...was a chapter I guess?? Like...I feel nothing strongly. Easily the best scenes were the ones with Max and Safi, but other than I found no substance anywhere. It was the chapter that just was....and my lingering feeling is disappointment.

If I was going to rank the episodes from how I liked them from most to least, I'd rank them: 2, 1, 3, 4, 5.

If I was going to rank the games from how I liked them from most to least, I'd rank them: LIS 1, LIS 2, Before The Storm, Double Exposure, True Colors. (It's weird because I think the high's of Double Exposure reached a high that True Colors never peaked at for me, but I also think the lows of Double Exposure reached a low that True Colors never dived to for me.)

Well. That sure a game. And I'm probably going to need a few days to be more eloquent than that.

[formula1fanfiction]

Pierre Gasly / Charles Leclerc

Title: What if all I need is you?

Pairing: Pierre Gasly / Charles Leclerc

Characters: Pierre Gasly, Charles Leclerc

Prompt:Pierre x Charles(ABO) Omega Pierre

It's the end of another very underwhelming race weekend for Charles, Silverstone has not been kind to him yet again, he's ready just to snuggle up in the covers and pretend to day never happened, he can only hope Ferrari get their shit together for the next race.

He's just about to strip down and get into bed when Pierre calls, it's unusual for Pierre to call so late, poor Pierre fared even worse in the race, he considers just ignoring the call but a worry in the pit of his stomach has him picking up.

"Charles, please. It came out of nowhere- I" He sounds out of breath, he sounds like he's crying and Pierre never cries. "You're making no sense, just tell me what's wrong." He can hear singling on the other end of the line, it takes Pierre forever to answer. "I came into heat." Shit. "Do you want me to come over and help?" It's early, Pierre's heat is scheduled for the summer break but they've had an agreement since back in karting, if ruts or heats were to come early, they would help each other out. Pierre still hasn't responded. "It's okay Pierre, i'm coming."

Luckily the Ferrari motor homes are close by and he only has to sneak out and run around the corner. He only has to knock once and a very naked Pierre is opening the door. "Charles, it shouldn't be happening right now." Charles pulls his friend close and rubs soothing  circles on his scent gland. "I know, I know but i'm here to help, okay?" Pierre's strong scent makes his cock twitch in his pants.   

"Pierre before you let me in you know what's going to happen right?" It's something they always ask each other first, nothing will ever change between them, but even during ruts and heats they should be allowed to consent. "Fuck me please, Charles."

That's all Charles needs to make a move, he backs Pierre up, kissing and biting at every exposed piece of skin as he's pushing Pierre back onto the bed. "Fuck Pierre, you smell so fucking good." Pierre purrs approving. Charles pushes him back onto the mattress, he goes so easily. He quickly climbs on top of. Charles smashes his lips against Pierre's its full of teeth and tongue, Pierre is struggling to keep up. He can feel the puddle of slick underneath, they haven't really started anything yet and Pierre's already a mess.

"Please, please, please. I can't take it anymore, I need you, it hurts." Charles helps roll Pierre onto his hands knees, he hates being an omega, he hates his body does this to him, he doesn't like to look at Charles during his heats. "I got you Pierre, don't worry." Charles sinks three fingers into the wet heat to test how open Pierre is, his body accepts them like a knife through butter, he's just so wet. Charles' own cock is throbbing in its cotton prison, he needs to be inside Pierre.

"I need you Charles." Pierre whines. "I know, I know." Charles struggles to push his pants down and take his cock out, he nudges himself against Pierre's slick entrance and Finally fucking finally he starts sinking into Pierre, his strong hands holding Pierre's hips for leverage. Pierre whines with approval underneath him, which satisfies the alpha inside of Charles.

"Please, Charles." It feels so warm, so right, so lick buried inside of Pierre, Charles understands Pierre's desperate need and softly runs his hand down Pierre's sweaty back. "I got you baby, I got you." Pierre whines again. "Please move."

Pierre's pushing back against his cock. "Such a bossy little omega, that's why only I know isn't it, no one would ever guess, you're a cute little omega begging me for cock." Charles does start to move, slowly at first but soon works his way up to quick hard pace. Each hard thrust into his body feels even better than the last one. Pierre moans underneath him, clearly satisfied from being stuffed full with cock. Charles changes the angle ever so slightly and gets the loud moan he's hoping for. "Again, please."

"You're not even my omega, but I love having you like this. Mine all mine." Pierre moans, happily. Charles' knot is stating form now, it's getting bigger and firmer with every single thrust. He's almost losing control of the pace, it's brutal, sloppy but the alpha inside of him knows Pierre needs to cum first.

"Don't worry, i'll make you feel so good." Charles wraps his fist around Pierre's cock and strokes him to the same pace as his thrusts. Pierre is trembling, matching his loud whines and soon he's coming, shouting Charles' name over and over again as he spills into Charles fist. "Good boy." He presses a kiss against Pierre's sweaty temple.  

"Sweet omega, coming so nicely for me." Charles pants, as he thrusts into Pierre impossibly fast, his knot swelling bigger and bigger with every thrust. Pierre cries out underneath him, his hole clenching down around the knot. His knot finally catches and he's stuffing Pierre full, just like he needs. Charles peppers little kisses of the back of Pierre's neck, until his knot finally pops and fills Pierre up with his seed.

Pierre curls up into a ball, he's always like this when his mind returns he gets embarrassed. Charles runs a gentle hand down his back. "It's nothing to be ashamed of Pierre, Seb, Max even George are omega's." Pierre looks up his eyes red from tears. "I'm not weak Charles, but my heats take everything from me, i hate being like that."

Charles opens his arms up and Pierre cuddles into it. "Well, at least I get to spend my heat with you."

[blabberoo]

Saw the first ep of Dead Cells Imortalis

Honestly i easily get excited with things. Especially this one. But oh man do i have a lot of things to say and im trying to hold it back 😭

So its blabbin' time.. (spoilers first ep)

Yknow, this feels like those game trailers that does exposition of the introduction of the plot of it... But slightly extended. And it just leaves it underwhelming.

The pace is very quick (possibly budget issue who knows). I dont think i got enough time for Laure's character introduction. She felt like shes just.. there?? (I guess shes literally lore expositor 😭)

I'm kind of ok with Bobby, because they left him as he is, or how i always thought of him. Still an apathetic jerk who has a death wish (WOOO LOVE THAT IN IMMORTAL CHARACTERS MY FAVORITE SOUP ✨✨)

The part where Bobby and Laure started to work as a team only got told through a narration voice over. (Ig with background visuals) So not much back and forth between characters :( Till the end..

Love Bobby's little dialogue at the end (i love how much of a jerk he is screw me), but it felt like its too early for that. Well, knowing how short these series would be i guess they would cut a few things. And i guess that was needed for Laure to strike a deal with him.

And honestly, with how bare and simple the story is so far, it is still possible to have Bobby mute. There are other shows that had already done that. The game itself did. And with the first episode, I could still see it work with him not saying a word.

Laure tells him the deal. Bobby nods and gives a thumbs up.

Laure witnessed him walking away when guard said she'd kill her if he leaves.

Laure calls him out. He turns to her smirking, and continues to walk away. Laure calls him a liar.

YKNOW HOW FUN THAT WOULD BE??!?! JUST HIM MAKING SILLY GUESTURES?!?!??

(i swear i am so tempted to rewrite the whole ep with him mute)

I guess except for that whole Bobby dialogue at the end (and maybe the lead up to the death deal)?? But perhaps the show can express that more in later episodes??

All in all, i guess im a bit frustrated. Because I really do see the potential, and the potential makes me very excited over it. But thats just that: potential. I love Laure's conflict with her own religion and i love how she weighs on what's important to her in the moment. I love how Bobby doesnt care about anything much, because all he sees is that familiar hell and wanting to see a way out. But almost half of it seemed to be resolved in the first ep.

I'd honestly take those short, whimsical silly nature of the game trailers. If they've kept the old artstyle, i woudnt have mind if it was shorter or lesser episodes. But if theyre gonna keep this new style and make a lore heavy story out of it, at least maybe commit to it?

Perhaps im just jumping to conclusions right now since it's just the first episode, and im just fresh out of it. I've only seen it twice. So my only hope was they expand on these characters rather than just plot tools to keep the show going,.. or maybe im asking too much lol.

TL;DR.

First ep impression:

Pace way too quick. Not much character build. Guessing on budget issue. Love the idea, but a bit poorly executed.

Anyways thats probably it... Some thoughts i might keep for later.

And i just wanna say i screamed giddily at this image...

[rollforfelicity]

finally finished the season and was curious if you had any thoughts on the junior year finale?

Yes! I watched it when it came out and I'm kind of bad at remembering what happens in shows, haha, but I do have some thoughts (these will probably be more "entire season" thoughts rather than JUST the finale thoughts).

Overall, I really enjoyed this season. It was really funny, and maybe one of the seasons I laughed at the most, and since I view Dimension 20 as a comedy show first, that's a big selling point to me.

I don't know how I feel about the down time mechanic. On the one hand, I think it's the only way they could have done this season, since it seemed like they were pretty set on it taking the whole year. On the other hand, there were quite a few rolls that Brennan said we'd come back to that I don't think were fully addressed (I could be wrong about how many, I'd have to go back and re-watch.) When they first introduced the mechanic, I thought it was basically a way for time to quickly pass while establishing how the school year was going, so each roll wouldn't involve too many scenes or roleplay, which I thought was smart. But then they did involve a ton of scenes and roleplay! So I have mixed feelings.

Similarly, it did feel like some things that could have been fun were underexplored because there was SO much jammed into this season, plot-wise. That's partially the medium of Actual Play, and partially being ambitious with how much they included. I love the idea of character foils or "dark reflections" of characters, and I wish we would have gotten a little more time with the Rat Grinders. We ended with a lot of implications about them, but I kind of wish there would have been a "this is what happened with them exactly" kind of moment. I guess they were all killed by Porter while on an adventure? Maybe I'm forgetting stuff and there was a more clear answer. I'm usually playing Power Wash Simulator while I'm watching Dimension 20 so sometimes I miss things.

Specific finale stuff! Gorgug and Unit and Gorgug and Mary Ann were both so funny. Zac is one of the funniest people alive. Brennan cannot keep his NPCs from flirting with Zac, and Zac cannot say no to a funny bit. I thiiiiink the finale was also the "Say it don't spray it" moment, which was incredible. Murph using Hold Person to take out Kipperlily was great, so tactical, so timely.

Maybe this is an unpopular opinion but I think the finale episode retroactively made the infamous "blimey" moment less funny. I wish Brennan wouldn't have gone back on having K2 destroyed. His rationale was that she actually did have access to Divine Intervention but also he gave advantage on the roll which isn't how the ability works, so I think having K2 be destroyed was fair and also really funny.

I was a little underwhelmed by the Bad Kids reactions to Ankarna's scenes with each of them. It felt like none of them knew exactly what was going on, and even though they had some good character moments, it felt muddled and I wasn't sure what was supposed to happen or honestly even what *did* happen there.

I liked Buddy's new god and Kalina showing up. I don't think she's evil, I think she just knows that Ankarna wants to kill her, so she's hitching her wagon on a new star.

Brennan said something during the final Adventuring Party about how if people would have laughed more at Gilear saying they were getting a dog that Fabian's mom wouldn't have been pregnant, which confirms something I've always thought! Obviously a lot of Dimension 20 is planned in advance because of the sets, but I've always felt like sometimes when things don't make sense it's because they decide something on the fly because it's funny. Even Porter being evil was decided because it would be funny (although that obviously wasn't decided on the fly). It makes sense why sometimes the pacing and plot of the shows are a little weird, because they're actual plays, and they're comedic APs at that. It's kind of heartwarming that it seems like even though they're making a show, they're all mostly just trying to make each other laugh, because if they make each other laugh, it'll probably make the audience laugh too.

Thanks for the ask! There's probably a lot of other stuff I thought that I've forgotten, haha. Would love to hear what you thought of the finale, too!

[maryberry]

Iron Flame by Rebecca Yarros thoughts and things

‼️spoiler free‼️

WOW...Literally breezed through this book, I couldn't put it down. I thought it was a great continuation of the story and characters. I did think it was a bit slow at times, and could have been about 100 pages shorter but all in all, so pleased with this book.

I give it an 8/10

‼️‼️‼️‼️SPOILERS NOW LOOK AWAY‼️‼️‼️‼️

Okay here we go ...

I really loved Violet and Xaden in this book, which is amazing because I was scared of if I would get annoyed or anything from how much I liked them in the 1st book. I really love how this book showed just how intimate their relationship is. I loved how even when they weren't "together" we got some really beautiful scenes of them just being so comfortable in eachothers presence. Like them laying in the bed at Samara. With that being said, I think there was a lot of time spent on the same argument over and over, which started to feel like it was dragging on a bit long. They started the same conversation about Xaden keeping secrets like 10 times and got interrupted like 8 of those times lol. Other than that, love their relationship.

I really like that Violet started to get more of a grip on her power and was able to control it more. I loved seeing her get more confident.

I have a theory that she can maybe speak to the dead? Idk we only had that one incident while she was being interrogated and Liam showed up. But idk, that whole thing felt very specific and fishy for it to just be a hallucination. So maybe it's Andarna channeling? I'm not sure 🤷‍♀️ I also have this thought though, it's more out there, that Tarins previous rider was Violet and maybe Brennan and Miras, biological father? Because that could explain why he died for Brennan and maybe why Violet had a second signet if she does.

I really didn't guess Andarnas history and I'm excited to learn more about this 7th type of dragon. Cause like, were they wiped out? Did they leave? Why only leave one hatchling? So many questions.

XADEN wtf are you doing, my sweet, sweet child. First of all, I guessed that he's an intrinsic(however it's spelled) after reading the first one. But I thought Tarin knew, which he did not.

Obviously, it's not good that Xaden is now turning into a Venin but I think that plot line has potential to be super interesting. We really got to see that xaden would damn the rest of the world to save Violet, and this could open up a door for her to do the same. I would LOVE to see Violet go a little dark and to some extreme lengths to save him.

I definitely feel like I want to know more about the dragons and how their hierarchy and bonds with eachother work. I want to know more about Tarin and Sgyaels bond and if it's similar to the human emotion of love or if it's about power? Loved the scene of Violet and Tarin thinking something happened to X and S and Violet was overcome with protectivness and stuff(you know what other stuff 🥵🥵)

Loved that we got more bonding of Violet and her squad. I feel like I actually care about them now where as at the end of book one, I didn't really that much. Also, love Sawyer and Jesenia, I hope she helps him heel and they live happily ever after lol.

Brennan was a bit underwhelming for me. As of rn I wouldn't mind if he died lol.

Overall Im so excited for book three. I'm sure I'll think of more things to add but I'd love to hear everybody else's thoughts!!

[literaticat]

Are successful authors ever industry plants? Is nepotism big in this industry?

I read about certain authors being industry plants (Alex Aster) but I just don’t understand how that would work…or why they would choose someone that had already published books with underwhelming sales to be their plant?

I understand that wealthy people will always have advantages when it comes to access to higher education and not needing to work to provide for themselves and in turn having more time to work on their crafts. Is there more to it than that though?

I don't really think "industry plants" or "nepotism" are things that plague publishing to an unusual degree. This feels like a conspiracy theory with little basis in reality. So short answers: No, not really, it wouldn't work, that's not a thing, and no, there's not really more to it than that.

Longer explanation:

I guess, sure, as in any industry, there might be SOME "nepotism" around publishing. Like if your mom happened to be a high-powered agent or publisher or author, maybe you'd be more likely to get into the publishing business in some way yourself and get some kind of a boost from your/your family connections. But I don't think that's something that is happening A TON or anything -- because let's be real, for the most part, publishing is not the most lucrative of careers. It's just as likely, if your mom was an agent or editor or author, you'd be like "for the love of god, keep me AWAY from publishing, I would actually like to make money!" or your mom would say, "for the love of god, go to LAW SCHOOL or something!"

Yes, of course, as you say, a person with a lot of privilege/wealth generally probs does have a boost in publishing -- they don't have to have twelve other jobs to make ends meet, they have more time to swan around and go to parties and schmooze, they have more resources, a safety net, etc. But I don't think that is something peculiar to publishing, I think privilege helps in ANY industry. (And, it's also very possible to do well in publishing with ZERO previous wealth or "connections" etc. Plenty of folks do! Many/most published authors never knew anyone in the publishing industry before they were published!)

According to Wikipedia, "Industry plant is a term used to describe musicians who become popular through nepotism, inheritance, wealth, or their connections in the music industry rather than on their own merits." (Obvs we are swapping "author" with "musician" and "publishing industry" for "music" here!) Further,  "Artists described as industry plants often present themselves as independent and self-made, but are alleged to have their public images manufactured for them by record labels." (publishers)

The idea that publishers are out there "creating stars" is kind of laughable and gives them more credit than they deserve. Now, might a publisher give media training to an author so they come across more "polished" in interviews, or push a certain narrative about an author when they are doing a PR campaign? Sure, of course. Might a publisher choose to promote a beautiful and charismatic young author a little extra based on the fact that they are beautiful and charismatic? Probably, yes, tbh. -- but they aren't CREATING the authors out of whole cloth. Those authors still have to like, do the work, write the books, submit the books, edit the books, etc etc.

I don't know much about the author you mentioned, but I just looked up this "industry plant" theory about her and it doesn't really make sense to me.

Nepotism? Her family is not, as far as I can see, involved in publishing in any way, so that's nepotism off the table. Wealth? Is the accusation that she, or the publisher, somehow "bought" her way to popularity? That's just not how that works. It's extremely difficult to "buy" or manufacture virality -- if publishers knew how to do that, I promise you they WOULD do that, but they do not. (Hence why publisher marketing departments trying to Make Fetch Happen via tiktok or whatever other social media doesn't usually work at all!)

As far as I can see, this is an author who had a lot of rejections, decided to make tiktoks, went viral, then the book got picked up by a publisher, got a movie deal, etc. This is a lucky thing, and a somewhat unusual thing, but it isn't totally out of left field or anything, and I'm failing to see where "industry plant" comes into the equation. She got a book deal because her tiktoks went viral and that brought her to the attention of the publisher (and also, presumably, because the publisher thought the book was good/ cool and there was obviously an audience for it, see viral tiktok). She didn't "present herself as self-made" per se -- she WAS self-made in the sense that she wrote a book, and then it got published? And the publisher didn't "create her public persona", because she wasn't connected with the publisher until AFTER the videos went viral.

Basically, I think if people (not YOU, but other people) are out there saying that some author -- especially a young woman author -- is "an industry plant" and only got whatever they got because they are wealthy, or young, or pretty, or a nepo baby, or have a certain background, or whatever it is -- it's likely jealousy, and maybe some misogyny, fueling that kind of talk. Because while sure, any of those things certainly might not HURT an author's chances of becoming popular / successful, they still have to do the work. There has to be A BOOK that THEY WROTE at the end of the day.

[gliphyartfan]

thank you very much for answering! It is always a pleasure to talk to you, I tried a lot more before I realized that something was wrong and suspected that something was happening with my messages that perhaps, does not arrive

I'll be sure to hit you with double messages, and then you'll know it's me (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

The idea of a spirit simply saying 'you gave me enough energy to exist like everyone else, I will follow you to the end of the universe's existence' never occurred to me!

I came up with simpler ideas like a clone of (y/n) who came out of a cursed mirror and was out of the mirror for so long that she is now her own person and takes care of (y/n) simply because it became routine and gave him a new purpose to live, up to ideas of a demon that takes the form of its enemies or even the occurrence that not!(Y/n) is a part of (y/n), they are the same person but something happened that they split into two like four but...in two(?

I didn't think through some ideas thorough

I also had the idea of something similar to Double from Skullgirls, if you don't know it look it up, but not in the shape-shifting sense, in the same sense that (y/n) was split in two but something bad happened with they other half...Maybe the separation was more unstable and nobody wants to mess with someone who has a bad human formation (teeth where there shouldn't be teeth and faces where there shouldn't be faces) behind them.

Or maybe not! (Y/n) It was always there, even in its original world, perhaps everyone in our world has these other monstrous halves from a time forgotten by God, but because of pollution and decrease in magic due to many human factors, we are no longer able to see or feel them.

Oh, these ideas are so good! I could totally see Not!(y/n) coming from any of these backgrounds, and each one gives her such a unique kind of bond with (y/n). Okay, here’s me rambling through each one, ‘cause they’re all just so fun to think about.

—-

Ooooh, okay, the mirror idea sounds cool. So, Not!(y/n) could be like a shadow clone of (y/n) that maybe popped out of a cursed mirror or something.

She’d have zero identity at first, just mimicking (y/n)’s movements and routines because that’s all she knows. Over time, she’d be following (y/n) around, learning, adapting, and taking on a personality of her own.

It’d be almost spooky in a way, because maybe she keeps little habits she picked up from (y/n), like, (y/n) might be confused why Not!(y/n) anticipates her moves, but it’s just muscle memory for her.

And then, somewhere along the line, it’s not just routine anymore, she genuinely cares for (y/n). Like, she went from habit to genuine affection, and now she’s in her own lane, fully independent but still clinging to (y/n) in that familiar way.

I would be even better if no one was aware Not!(y/n) was there, I can totally imagine a situation where the spirit saves (y/n) in front of everyone. (Quite the first introduction.)

Oooh maybe it cause the enemy cast a spell that needs someone who love for (y/n) is deep and true. And I while the heroes love their darling veeeeeeeeery much.

I think it would be a trick question. Like they would assume romantic love. But it’s just super platonic love.

(And guess who’s a platonic Yandere? )

Hmmm or maaaaaybe Not!(y/n) started as a creature of shadows, like some kind of demon that just… borrows forms, she’d probably be super instinct-driven at first.

So when she latched onto one of the heroes first, it’s not out of loyalty or love but, like, “This person will help me blend in, so I’ll copy them.”

When she latches on to (y/n)? Oh boy, she’d accidentally start picking up more than just the appearance.

She’d get little quirks, tiny bits of (y/n)’s empathy, curiosity, or habits, and she’d gradually become her own thing.

And it’s weird and strange and overwhelming and underwhelming and Not!(y/n) loves it.

She could totally use that mimicry to freak out enemies, too. Imagine her taking on traits of whatever scares her opponent most, just subtle things, like maybe her face warps or her shadow lengthens.

She’s got that “I’m a demon pretending to be human, and it’s kind of hilarious” energy but with a maaajor soft spot for (y/n). It’d be creepy and adorable.

Okay I’m familiar with Skullgirls.

Not by a lot but enough to get what you mean, so if she’s that unstable half of (y/n), you know, like a warped doppelganger, I imagine she’d have that vibe of “I look mostly normal, but don’t look too close.” Maybe her body doesn’t stay stable, so when she gets agitated or defensive, she starts to distort, like an extra set of teeth here, a shadow that’s too dark there.

People would feel a chill just looking at her, even though she doesn’t mean any harm.

Her protective side would kick in hardcore if (y/n) is in danger, and it’d be like she’s this scary shadow looming just behind her. Not on purpose, just… that’s her default state when she’s “protecting.”

Imagine (y/n) turning her head and just seeing Not!(y/n) with, like, a disturbingly wide grin or something, but knowing she’s totally harmless to her. Super unsettling. (but also kinda wholesome?)

Oooh, or maybe Not!(y/n) could be like this ancient presence, this forgotten part o f (y/n) that woke up due to all the magic surrounding them.

She wouldn’t speak the same way, maybe her words are all odd and too formal, or she just doesn’t understand human things and language very well. She’s probably like… this embodiment of lost magic that somehow bonded to (y/n).

And she’d be invisible to almost everyone at random times! Imagine her fading in and out depending on how strong the magic is around her, like a flickering ghost.

She’d be more of a guardian spirit from some forgotten time, bound to (y/n) not because she remembers anything about herself, but because she’s naturally drawn to her other half. It’s almost like she’s meant to be there, even though no one understands why. (Well no one but Not!(y/n) really)

But, maybe she’s a spirit, a shadow, a demon, a double… whatever her origin, she utterly adores (y/n). Can’t change that. My heart wouldn’t accept it 🥹

[tennybird]

I have opinions about TotK. This is your spoiler warning if you haven't played/finished it yet. Also all of this is, once again, just my opinion on it and not a decisive fact! I will probably misremember things!

Anyway.

Okay so basically as someone who got it on release and beat it within a week, I'm a little underwhelmed by the game now that I'm looking back over half a year later.

It's not a terrible game! I'll say that first and foremost. But after waiting so long for it, and trying so hard to not hype myself up for it (failing horribly at that), it feels just a bit... same-y. The story is nice, and it's different. The boss fights and abilities you gain during your travels are nice. Everything else, though...

I like the map having stayed similar, with enough changes that I have to relearn some areas. The Depths are really fucking cool, and figuring out on my own that they're a negative of the overworld was incredible! But the sky islands were a little disappointing, I think. When we were told we'd be in the sky a lot, I thought there'd be more large islands like the tutorial one that you could walk around on. More references to Skyward Sword, too. It feels to me that they put more love into the Depths than the sky, in a way.

I like the main story. Figuring out Zelda was the Light Dragon (but not really believing it until the final Tears), and that she'd essentially spent thousands and thousands of years trapped inside herself, was AWESOME. Every cutscene involving her as the Light Dragon hit me hard, and I felt genuine sorrow everytime I saw her floating around the sky.

...That being said, I DO wish we could have a game where you get to actually travel with her. I WANT her to tell me about the minor lore of the world! I want to know about the various flora and fauna, and I want her to talk about Hyrule's history! Zelda is part of the royal family, and I'd imagine that part of her studies pre-BotW she'd have to learn about the history of her family (especially because of the importance of the Goddess' blood...). With how pre-BotW went between her and her powers, and her and her father, I'd imagine she'd make it a point to learn more about their history that ISN'T just the prophecy.

I, personally, did not like most of the temple boss fights. I can't really explain much of why- except for Queen Gibdo. I HATED Queen Gibdo because of all the smaller Gibdo chasing you, trying to chase down Riju for her power... It was a lot of things stacked on each other, and simply not my thing. Colgera was an absolute favorite however! The boss theme is AWESOME, the mechanics of being in the air and having to watch for projectiles, as well as crashing through the ice sheets to take it down? VERY, VERY FUN. Climbing through the sky just to get to the temple itself was one of my favorite experiences. Going up and up and up, and finally reaching the top where you break out above the storm clouds and see clear skies...

A thing that bothers me about the temples is that the cutscene at the end, where the ancient Sages gifts their powers to the new ones... I feel like they could've spent a little more time making them different, even if that meant more time in development. I would be okay with that! I think games should be in development longer in order to produce a good, finished product! Anyway.

The fight with Ganondorf was fun for me. I get SUPER immersed in it, so it was a fearful moment when I thought I'd beaten him, only to see his health bar fill again... and then go offscreen. And the DEMON DRAGON FIGHT? Holy SHIT.

I just wish there was more... substance to the game, I guess? It feels weird saying that. There are more things to do, but it's missing something I can't name. Something BotW had, but is now gone. I like TotK, like I said. It's clearly had love put into it, and I'm glad the developers spent more time on getting it as close to the perfect image they wanted as they could. Maybe it's just cause I've spent more time with BotW (over 300 hours), but I think I'm a little biased towards it. Maybe I'm just getting older and grumpier about vidya games, too. Who knows!

If you read all this, cool! I will reiterate that this is simply my view on it! If your view is different, good!! I'm happy to know there are people out there who enjoy it more than I did. Or if you hate it more than I do, maybe you have other things you want to point out about it that I missed.

[struggle-but-its-all-ocean-floor]

Okay, I Am Still spoilers under the cut. Let's do this.

Oh boy, that was something.

Seeing Jungkook made me so happy and at peace. His bright smile makes me happy. I felt so much love for him, so real and deep that it's surreal I feel that way and that my love for him has grown so much throughout chapter 2 - and that I've loved him for 5 years now... When the first Golden performance was played, I really felt so serene and present. I wanted to close my eyes. My problems felt so far away and I was grateful to be alive and to be alive at the same time as Jungkook. I often think this, but as long as Jungkook is happy, then at least one person I really love is okay, and that makes living a little bit easier. So I often plead to myself for him to be happy and have a happy ever after (as much as possible in a world where sickness and death are guaranteed). So, thank you, Jungkook, for every bit of comfort and happiness you give me, and for filling my heart when I feel that it is so hollow. I'm so proud of you. I was so proud seeing your journey.

I was also so moved at the end of the movie... Magic Shop played, then the black screen thanking Army showed up (tears), followed by Jungkook shaving his hair for the military... His hairstylist cried... It was sweet and sad, I love how much everyone loves Jungkook. He hugged his hairstylist was sweetly and acted bravely. And then Jimin showed up and Jungkook acted silly for him... The doc ended. with Jungkook making a funny face... It felt very Jungkook. It left me feeling happy, sad, grateful, touched, and overwhelmed all at once.

I guess the documentary also made me feel bad for how critical I am of him. It's just my nature. I feel things very deeply or very shallowly...

Now, other thoughts and criticism:

Most of the doc was rather underwhelming. I paid too much to see something that could've been available for free on YT. It had about the same quality as LSRF's docs tbh. They could've hired a really good producer instead.

I get the story they were telling, but it left much to be desired. The timeline was all over the place, and they overall showed very little given the material they must have. They could've dug so much deeper and shown so much more of Jungkook - which is what I believe he probably wanted. They showed so much old footage, like some of his performances and interviews. It was all about showing his success, talent, and perseverance. That's great and all, but it doesn't make the doc insightful or new.

I wanted to really see the process of creating Golden. Not just him recording stuff and traveling the world, but discussing the songs, the MVs. Why did he release the explicit version of Seven - what was that discussion like? Why he decide on collabs? How did he choose the songs? Why did he decide to make an English album after 3D - was it an easy choice or was he unsure about it? Did he give his input on the MVs? The doc doesn't answer these questions or truly show the decision-making process behind Golden, behind Seven, 3D, and SNTY. So it's less about Golden, and more about Jungkook's growth. I guess Golden is only about Jungkook proving something, but they could've done more, dug deeper, showed more of Golden since the doc is marketed as a "making of" Golden.

Still, it did show candid and very Jungkook-like moments and how his confidence in himself grew. It showed what his goals were, and I really relate to what he said about not knowing what the end goal is but that at least he's learning. I also don't know what I want my career to be yet, but I'm learning stuff and hopefully I'll figure it out.

I just expected more substance. Showing him perform and being interviewed was unnecessary. We've already seen all of that. Some performances and interview moments are fine, but there were too many imo. I also didn't like the quotes from some of the producers. Tbh, Jungkook would've made a much better documentary than Hybe. I was still satisfied in the end though.

On another note, I witnessed the Taekook effect for the first time irl. Some fans started yelling when V showed up - they either love V or Taekook, or both. No one really reacted with Jimin or Jikook...

This was my first time seeing BTS on the big screen. I'd never done it previously because I don't want to give Hybe money and because it didn't feel worth it. I was also very afraid of watching it with other Armys. I expected fans to yell when JK appeared shirtless, which they did, and they laughed and cooed a bit too much, but overall fans were quiet. Thankfully. That had been my biggest concern... The Portuguese just can't be bothered with anything.

Speaking of Portuguese, I paid 11 Euros for a movie that was translated into Brazilian Portuguese? I never thought an official movie would be shown in Portuguese from Brazil in Portugal. It is not the same as Portuguese from Portugal. A lot of the translation sounded off.

Anyway... what did you guys think? I have to eat now before I pass out. I'm so weak my arms and legs are tingling. And I bit all my nails during the doc because I was hungry lmao.

Edit: Forgot to add that beginning the doc with baby pictures of Jungkook was too cute. Also, I loved all the moments of Jungkook Jungkooking. Cause of death: Jungkook and his big, pretty eyes, and cute mannerisms, and perfect heart.

[pumpkinpartynoelle]

official catti post

recent events with our noelle have got me thinking, this is kinda just a late night ramble but whatever its a deltarune theory technically so im putting on on noelle's blog

since a lot of what seems to endear canon noelle to susie is the mystery and sense of danger, if they ever did end up in a steady relationship, just the two of them, i genuinely think noelle would be the first to fall out of love once she realises shes put this poor dragon girl up on a pedestal that she, and realistically, no one, could safely live up to, and the end result is at best underwhelming

i think it could potentially work as part of a polycule including kris and myself, might be stable then, but if noelle is relying on just susie, who she has this obsession with and has placed so much importance on, to meet all her needs in a relationship, i dont think its gonna happen, plus i feel like kris and i would give her more of that mystery and scare factor long term that susie wouldnt be able to once they get to know each other better, scary seems to be more of susie's mask than anything and in a real healthy relationship that mask wouldnt show as much

i dont think theyd end up disliking each other or anything, or at least susie wouldn't dislike noelle, but i cant help but think if noelle actually ended up with susie shed be feeling great for a little while and then quickly end up sliding into disappointment until one of them broke it off

especially since i worry shes latched so heavily onto susie because she doesnt feel like she can have an open and honest relationship with her mother, she doesnt have her sister, and her dad is just one guy and potentially soon to be no guys, so shes pinning all her hopes on "yes susie will fix me" even though that aint happenin

what this girl needs is a more solid and diverse support network other just me sometimes, and maybe jockington, i.e. the exact opposite of the weird route

i guess berdly is kinda there but the nature of their relationship is partially transactional whether either of them like that or not. and with her dad its almost the same, like yeah rudy genuinely cares about her, but also he's her dad, that's supposed to be a given, so it arguably counts for less, and given how much everyone is obviously still hurt by the loss of dess, noelle might see it as more forced than it actually is. it could be argued that noelle has no one in her life who's truly there for her unconditionally, or at least that she has grounds to believe that

our noelle is still pretty susie-obsessed, but it's nice to see her develop a lot more interests the longer she stays active, like making her deltarune theories. i hope getting our discord account hacked wont have put too much of a long term damper on things, girl needs to be able to chill

[unseemingowl]

"About the Blogger" Meme

@all-inmoderation tagged me. I haven't done one of these in ages, so this was fun. Thank you .D

Star Sign(s): Libra (don't ask me about rising and all that stuff, I know nothing about Astrology)

Favorite Holidays: Christmas, I love the cosiness.

Last Meal: Fries from the new kebab place around the corner. Had a craving, but they were sadly a bit underwhelming. Nothing more disappointing food item than underwhelming fries.

Current Favorite Musician: Been listening to a lot of Alabama Shakes this weekend. The intro to Sound and Color is just sooo fucking good.

Last Music Listened To: The spotify playlist called Indie Rock Club, which turned out to be all of the music I listened to in my late teens and early twenties. Ripped me right back to that time. Wild.

Last Movie Watched: Wow, Piggy was the last movie I watched, I really need to have a new years resolution to watch more movies. Piggy is fucking excellent though. Loved it, loved it, loved it. Go watch it.

Last TV Show Watched: I'm in the middle of rewatching Babylon Berlin in order to watch season 4 and 5. All doom and glitter and the party and depravity that never ends, and Charlotte and Gereon are such engaging and complicated lead characters. Still love it.

Also watching season 2 of World on Fire, which is a fine show, though not nearly as good. But it does have Jonah Hauer King in it though, and I am a simple woman, let me watch that man having an existential crisis and I'm THERE. He looks SO handsome when he doesn't know what's going on, lol.

Last Book/Fic Finished: I've been struck hard by project moving, so I've mostly been listening to Agatha Christie audiobooks. The last time I moved, I moved into a single room, and by the time I moved was living in the apartment by myself along with all the new stuff I've acquired. It's been hellish. So cosy mysteries it is.

Last Book/Fic Abandoned: I was reading a biography on Robert the Bruce that I abandoned once project moving started up and I stopped having the bandwidth for anything too complicated.

Currently Reading: Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro, excellent so far, which is not surprising, since I've loved all of his books that I've read.

Last Thing Researched for Art/Writing/Hyperfixation: Waltzing in the 19th century.

Favorite Online Fandom Memory: The buck wild hour long quarantine era chats with the Nabrina crowd in the discord.

Favorite Old Fandom You Wish Would Drag You Back In/Have A Resurgence: CAOS I guess? The Nabrina fandom is still one of the least toxic ones I've ever been in, at least the little corner that I was in.

I'm counting on a Batcat fandom resurgence once the next Battinson movie comes out in like 500 years (sob!)

Favorite Thing You Enjoy That Never Had an Active or Big "Fandom" but You Wish It Did: Oh so many things. Fandom culture is brutal these days because people are moving on so fast. Like the Little Mermaid came out this spring and it seems mostly dead already. Or perhaps people are just in other places that tumblr?

Tempting Project You're Trying to Rein In/Don't Have Time For: Everything? Lol. Between trying to paint my new flat and christmas and some family stuff going on it feels like I don't have time for anything at all right now. Including the self-indulgent smut fic that I'm writing for the Little Mermaid at the moment. But that smut fic is my happy place at the moment, so I must persist!

tagging @robertdeniroimdb @bugsysiegels @raxiesrot @gothamsgaygirlgang @imaginejolls @deadgirlsupremacy @sweet-reverie along with anyone else who'd like to have a go

[yuri-is-online]

Just finished Sinostra's chapter myself.... I gotta say though, was a little underwhelming compared to other chapters.... Honestly the entire thing felt like a one-man show by Ritsu + some sexual tension between Taiga and Romeo whenever they interact lol. MC has never felt more like a spectator than she did in this chapter, I was waiting for her to do absolutely *anything* but she really was just... there lmao. Not even hand-holding this time!

Even the Like Dove showed up AFTER mc left, when it was just Taiga and Romeo in the room, and then later again when Romeo barges into Taiga's room - this time mc was there but, just barely lol, the whole focus was on Taiga and Romeo's almost shoot-off, and Taiga's line saying "You really could shoot through my heart"?? And the fact that he sensed Romeo approaching before he even saw him, and so far is the only person who he clearly remembers and freely gives compliments to lol, Lulu is a cute nickname tho.

Regardless, Taiga's strange response to the Like Dove could possibly mean Kaito's explanation about it might not be true after all, since anomalies are still a mystery, wouldn't be strange for false rumors to make the rounds.

And I while I don't hate Ritsu - I appreciate he's a hard worker and tries to make the best of any situation he's put in - I dislike how he really just one-sidedly handled everything in this chapter and only ever explains after they're done lol. The case didn't feel like an investigation at all, Ritsu just pulls some numbers out of the air and acts on them (where is he getting all that data??) and in the end they won against it because it had to prevent a paradox from happening...? lmao idk overall just felt so underwhelming.

Also we never find out what the deal was about the girl in the tower?? Why even mention that detail if they're not gonna do anything with it... An anomaly that was born from the negative emotions gathering in a casino replaces people's memories with a girl in a tower.... My guess is it wanted enough people to "remember" her so she could come into existence? Like Takeru's ghost. I wonder what for though... Will they revisit this or not.....

You could pluck out MC from this chapter and absolutely nothing would change imo because Ritsu was doing everything anyways, only name-dropped mc when mentioning it was an investigation, that's it. While I don't necessarily need her to be the star or a hero, having 0 influence on the chapter is not great writing imo.

Kaito and his silly antics were the highlight for me. And I found it hilarious how him being stripped down and locked up in Romeo's "private office" feels like the setting of any self-indulgent "dark romance" fiction between a rich CEO and helpless debtor who has to cater to the captor's whims lol.

Finally Hotarubi is next, I've been curious about it since I got sorted into it, and want to see more of Haku. I agree he's sus, his dialogue in the prologue if you choose him only highlights the fact. But something about him really compels me

Sorry for the long ask, I have a thousand thoughts twirling around in my mind about TD, it should probably cool down between the entire month that's left before next story update.... but also there's new games coming out next month so hopefully I don't forget about TD completely either lol....

There is no shame in long asks. I'm always impressed at the amount of thoughts my dear anons manage to fit inside the ask box ♡

I also felt like the content was a bit lacking to the point I went and checked Jabberwock's chapter count and was surprised to find it's actually a tad shorter than Sinostra's. I think the main reason it felt so short to me was because I wasn't locked out of progressing this time around, but the case progression also felt much much quicker. If I'm sitting back and evaluating it as a writer, I think that's probably because of the setting being confined to the school and dorm. Sure, a lot happens, but you don't actually go anywhere, unlike in the previous three books.

Our MC has a very laid-back personality, which I don't mind. BUT the game really should allow for the chance for her to work things out on her own, even if she's too afraid of the other characters to verbalize it and keeps them to herself. There are several times in the book when she tries to point out inconsistencies in Ritsu's logic or other evidence she notices, but she's talked over pretty much every single time. It's what made me really hate Ritsu since you did not see that with Ren, Haru, or Towa, but i get that it's sort of tricky when writing more domineering characters to balance not making them overshadow the more laid back ones but still keeping them true to their personalities. I don't think Ritsu would have paid attention to Kaito if MC wasn't there, nor do I think Taiga would have paid attention to Ritsu, but that's just me speculating because the story doesn't clearly communicate it. This book was poorly written, a lot of the problems people have with MC could be fixed with a few additional lines where she's shown wanting to do something but reminding herself she has to play nice with the ghouls otherwise they won't break her curse. Her personality makes sense to me, but her writing does not.

Now. I disagree about the no real moments this chapter but ah. Well. You see. There is something deeply wrong with me so I completely get if this did nothing but disturb you but when Taiga has MC strapped to the torture chair 👉👈

Look I know potentially getting a hicky from a guy that strapped you to a torture chair and just shot you (for the second time) isn't everyone's thing but it is mine I was so well fed this chapter from that alone ( ; ω ; ) AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON HOW HE CALLS HER KITTEN AND EATS THE FUCKING LIKE DOVE??? RAW??? ROMEO ROMEO WHY FOR ART THOU INTERRUPING ROMEO I WANTED TO SEE WHAT HE WAS GONNA DO- forgive me anon I'm afraid I'm most unwell.

Speaking of the Like dove and the memories of the tower. The Tower thing reminds me of rapunzel, especially because she's out alone in the woods, but it feels super out of left field, no? If the anomaly is born from the Casino, which Taiga states "is him," then I wonder if the girl in the tower is representative of something he's forgotten? The chapter places an emphasis on how anomalies can affect memory, so it's not too big of an assumption to make that something must have happened to Taiga to make his memory this bad. As for the like dove... Romeo seems very surprised to see it, almost suggesting he never has before, which can you imagine how funny it would be if it showed up for him and Taiga. They've been friends and business partners for at least two years, I refuse to believe the dove would only just show up now. The image of him just never seeing it because everyone is too polite/afraid of him to point it out is too funny. The dove shows up twice this chapter, both times it sort of read to me like it had been there for a bit before it was noticed and in both cases Taiga reacts to it negatively. Given how paranoid he seems to be, I think it's probably because the idea of him caring/having someone care about him scares him due to the unpredictability of it and the potential for betrayal. He seems to think people only want to use him, so that's probably part of it too. I'm constantly doing way too many lines of copium, so to me the dove seemed triggered by Taiga's interactions with MC but I also see where you're coming with Romeo. Their friendship is much less adversarial than it was implied to be in their little blurbs, and I quite like that a lot. You know even if Taiga seems to think Romeo is always taking away his fun. And what's up with his constant want to eat anomalies, is Romeo not feeding him enough?

Slight correction, Taiga does seem to remember who Haru is, Harry and Lulu are both derivative of their names, so maybe he can only remember people in his year clearly? Or does it also include second years? He sounds very surprised at the concept of a "first year ghoul" in his house so maybe his memories are cutting off everything other than the previous two years...

I also have a bunch more thoughts but I'll cut myself off here ×-× gotta let some of them simmer before I make too much of a fool of myself (I already have)