#but still. I was at a point where I was like 'well can the guy dad works with come look'

[le-panda-chocovore]

I still refuse to accept that this exist. I've been around for years now and I do send fic links to my friends but we don't have discords servers specifically to talk about them ??? I leave comments and sometimes go on the author's tumblr to send them an ask about how much i love their works. A few times I got the author's discord by doing that and we started chatting on the app. Sometimes the author sees me comment-spamming their fics, so they go on my account and starts reading my fics and leaves adorable comments too. And it makes me cry cause what do you mean you love my work ?? I'm just an annoying rambler who also happens to be a fan of your work, I don't write as well as you, but you still enjoy reading my shit ? This makes me so fucking happy.

And you guys are telling me that some people... Don't... Share their appreciation with the author ?? Some people are missing this kind of wholesome connection???? People create discord server to talk about the fics they like and never fucking tell the author about that ? The author who reads and answers to every single comment because it makes them happy to know that other people like their work ?? The author who rambles about their fics idea on tumblr because they have so many in mind and just want to share them ??

I legit don't understand how you can read a fic and chose to text your friend instead of leaving a fucking comment under it. I refuse to believe that there's discords servers out there with channels like "STSG hurt/comfort fics" where people write poems dedicated to their love for fanfic authors. And the authors have no idea of this and give up on writing because they feel like no one is reading them.

I have a discord group with two women, we were all writing erasermic fics on the french side of wattpad, we were all reading and commenting each other's fics, correcting spelling mistakes in the comments. It became an habit to the point where they started tagging me every time they posted a new chapter so I could correct them, and I did the same with my fanfics. It was 5 years ago and today one of them is going to publish her first original novel and she asked us to be her beta-readers. None of us write erasermic fics anymore.

It's great that you love a fanfic so much that you ramble about it on discord with your friends, but what the point of a fandom if we don't try to reach each other ?

"should we tell authors on ao3 when we have discord conversations about their fics" i don't speak for everyone here but if y'all ever find a group chat discussing my fics you can should must and WILL send me screenshots of the whole damn thing. inflate my ego. gimme

[hannieehaee]

can u write something about seungkwan having a s/o with the same personality/vibe as vernon? like one day he would just show up showing his new partner to introduce to the members and they would be like ? this is another version of vernon lol it would be so funny 😭😭

content: bf!seungkwan, established relationship, jeonghan being annoying, other members are present, fluff, etc.

wc: 617

a/n: lol i think seungkwan would totally date someone similar to vernon. their dynamic would eat

masterlist

"i didn't realize your type was vernon."

"what are you talking about?", seungkwan tilted his head in curiosity, furrowing his eyebrows.

jeonghan pointed over at you and a few of the other members, conversing in the distance, "i'm talking about that," he said as if it were the most obvious thing.

"i'm still not getting it."

"that's literally vernon. their style, their deadpan attitude, their voice. they even have the same elitist taste in music and movies. dude, you're dating vernon," he was needlessly exasperated as he listed off his evidence.

"w-wha- that's not true!", seungkwan instantly entered a defensive mode, "sure, vernon's cute, but they're nothing alike. you're crazy."

"just wait til vernon gets here and you'll see. world's gonna explode when they meet."

~

today was the first day seungkwan had ever introduced you to his members. most were currently in the practice room, so you had quickly been able to meet the present ones and engage in conversation. much to seungkwan's contentment, you fit in with the guys perfectly. from the moment you walked in, you managed to assimilate to them seamlessly, almost as if you were part of the group.

come to think of it, it was slightly unnerving how well you fit. jeonghan's words made more and more sense the more he watched you interact with his members. you were kind of like vernon, especially from afar. your dynamic with each of his members seemed pretty similar to that of vernon's, and even your mannerisms unknowingly replicated his. hell, your style was even pretty much the same!

seungkwan could've spent hours mindlessly analyzing the scene in front of him uninterrupted, but suddenly your twin turned up.

seungkwan was snapped out of his trance by a passing pat on his shoulder, causing him to jump slightly as he looked to his side to notice vernon passing by him with a quiet 'sup' before continuing to walk in the direction where you were conversing with the rest of the members.

quietly, seungkwan followed, with jeonghan trailing behind him with a chuckle.

"oh, hey," vernon nodded towards you in the nonchalant way he usually did, "you must be kwannie's partner," he offered you a light smile.

you responded with a similarly nonchalant greeting, shaking hands with vernon casually.

"hey. you're vernon, right? kwannie talks about you all the time," you gave him a closed-smile that almost mirrored his own.

"yah! that's not true!", whined kwan.

"dude he won't shut up about you," vernon joined in as he chuckled at his friend's dramatics.

suddenly you and vernon started a conversation completely aside from seungkwan. all the poor boy could do was stand there and watch, equal parts amused and surprised at seeing two people so similar.

jeonghan stood next to him as he watched, though he was more entertained than anything, occasionally chuckling at you and vernon jinxing each other by saying eerily similar things, or even reacting to one another in the exact same way.

"do you think the world will combust if they touch?", murmured seokmin who had just joined in on watching the spectacle.

seungkwan simply grumbled, continuing to attempt to join the conversation despite having no idea of what movie you and vernon were currently discussing.

by the end of it, you and vernon had exchanged contacts, with you providing seungkwan with a hug and a kiss before making your way out.

before seungkwan could say anything, vernon came up to him with yet another pat on his shoulder.

"hey, i like your partner. they're a keeper," he said without nothing the snickers leaving his other members, nor seungkwan's agape mouth at what he'd just witnessed.

hell. maybe he did have a type.

[avelera]

I actually really love Mel/Jayce/Viktor as well as Jayce//Viktor and I actually think the show has a couple scenes that lend to a poly interpretation of the three of them (Mel and Jayce both literally handling Viktor’s crutch between them while talking about how much they care for him, hello?? The subtext writes itself) but I found myself staying focused on just Jayce/Viktor at first because it’s a bit simpler to write and because as much as I LOVE the implied moments of their intellectual, ambiguously romantic threesome, I’d need more of Mel and Viktor interacting to really close the loop for shipping it in my mind. As it is, it feels a bit more “This is Mel’s boyfriend, Jayce, and Jayce’s boyfriend Viktor” that Mel still cares about and respects mostly from afar.

I also think that Viktor and Jayce kind of left their relationship at “we’re partners in every sense of the word, why define it further?” And that definition maybe included romantic and sexual moments (at least for fic writer purposes lol) but the fear of losing the amazing working relationship they had, which is so rare in the academic world, kept them from seriously “defining” it as anything official on the person front, which allowed Jayce to take up with Mel without it being “cheating”.

Throw into that the rapid advancement of Viktor’s illness and I can easily see a scenario where Viktor didn’t force the issue and indeed, was happy to see that Jayce had someone else who loved him in his life, knowing he didn’t have much time left and it would take a miracle to save his own life. Basically, I don’t see Viktor as jealous of Mel as a person, even if he was wary / resigned towards Jayce’s political career and would have rather have had him in the lab more often.

There was a happy medium there, I think, where Jayce was happily balanced between the two of them without jealousy from either that the accelerating events of S1 basically prohibited as the crises began to unfold, forcing Jayce into the conflict with Zaun, and Zaun had always been a point of miscommunication and later tension between Viktor and Jayce. An inevitable one I think, since Jayce couldn’t possibly know what it was like to grow up there, and in the course of their work it probably only rarely came up and so wasn’t daily addressed until the crisis made it an ugly conflict between them.

Anyway, I’m mostly just rambling as I think my way through how I write Jayce and Viktor in the fic I’m finishing up. But mostly I wanted to make the point that I see Jayce’s relationship with Mel as real and important and not “getting in the way” of his relationship with Viktor indeed, Viktor and Mel at least seem mature enough to navigate a poly relationship and Jayce has a lot of love to give (he loves SO MUCH guys I’m emotional about it, he’s just a good kid who ended up in a shitty complex situation that went way over his head. Bro didn’t even know if his school OFFERED military history, he was such an easy target and this is why STEM kids need an introduction to liberal arts I swear).

I don’t think S2 is headed towards any sort of unambiguous happy ending for the three of them but there’s definitely a happy AU in my heart where the three of them make it work and are better together than just two out of the pair.

[planetpedri]

Can you write hector fort x FC Barcelona intern reader where she's talking with her supervisor in the area the boys are training and Hector got interested in her, then she and the supervisor go talk w the boys and Hector start showing her his interest for her. (sorry for my bad english😭)

Only angel — Héctor Fort.

Pairing: Héctor Fort x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Héctor first saw you, he swore you looked just like an angel.

Word count: 980+

Disclaimer/s: fluff , reader is a sports photographer intern + the supervisor is made a up person (oc sort of) !

A/N: haven’t written for Héctor in a while so hi!! this was lame and bummy asf but whatever..

Walking through the quiet halls that lead around Ciutat Esportiva building, you take a peak into one of the open doors. Luckily for you, it held just the person you were searching for.

“María?” You call out, pressing a hand onto the wooden door and pushing it open further. “It’s me.”

The dark haired woman glances up from her desk, smiling at the sight of you. “Oh! Good! You found me, I was beginning to wonder wear you were.”

María was a friend of your aunts, so when she found out about your interest in sports and photography, she offered you an internship. It’d made your year, and today was your first official day.

“Yeah, I got a little… lost.” You chuckle, closing the door behind you. Finding a seat in front of her desk, you clasp your hands together. “Where do we start?”

María’s eyebrow lifts, amusement flashing across her face. “Eager, aren’t we?”

“Very.” You nod vigorously, “and a little nervous.”

Standing up, she grabs her camera and another, “this one’s for you.” She beckons for you to grab it, which you do with wide eyes.

“Oh wow.” You exhale, “this is.. thank you.”

“You’re welcome, now, let’s go meet the team, shall we?”

The walk up to the field was, well—it took a lot of breathing. The stairs had nearly winded you. Brushing a few pieces of hair from your face and straightening your shirt, you take a look around. Your eyes landed on a lot of different people.

It was hard not to be in awe seeing the players of your favorite team only feet away from you, live in action. María, beside you, watched you with a smile. “Impressed?”

“Very.” You laugh.

Twenty feet away from you stood Héctor Fort, his eyes trained on you curiously. Leaning to his left, he nudged Pau. “Who’s that?” He asks, pointing in your direction.

Pau followed his line of sight, shrugging when he didn’t recognize you. “No clue. But if she’s with María, i’m assuming family or maybe an assistant.” He glances at his friend, who was still staring. He smirks, “chill out, you don’t know how old she is.”

“Why would you say that?” Héctor gasps, swatting the back of Pau’s head. His friend laughs, jogging away from him.

Héctor’s eyes look back to you, his heart skipping a beat as you laughed at something María said. You looked like an angel with the sun shining down on you as your smile brightened.

When it came time for their water break, María leads you to the group. You followed her, nervously fidgeting with the straps that held her camera securely around her neck. “Boy’s!” The woman called out, waving to get their attention.

Hansi Flick, their coach, turned to face you first. He says something to the team, which you couldn’t hear, but it has their rowdiness turning into calm behavior.

“I’d like you to meet my new intern,” María introduces you, and in turn, the guys all say their ‘hello’s’. “She’ll be working alongside me and when i’m gone, she’ll take my place. Please be kind to her.”

Your lips had formed a pursed lipped smile while nerves wracked your body. It was awkward having so many eyes, much less all men’s eyes, on you.

Once that humiliation ritual was over, you found a seat on the sidelines where María suggested you sat while she ran back to her office to grab a few more supplies.

You snapped pictures here and there, not realizing you’d focus on one person in specific. Héctor Fort. He was your age, your friend’s favorite player, and he was cute—very photogenic.

You were clicking through the photos you’d taken, deleting the bad ones and smiling proudly at the good ones. You failed to notice when a shadow came over you, too enthralled in your camera.

“Hello?” A deep voice spoke above you, nearly scaring you. Nearly.

Snapping your head up, you come face to face with the man who belong to the picture you were just looking at. “Oh! Hey! Sorry, I didn’t notice you! Do you need something?”

Héctor shrugs, “just wanted to introduce myself. I’m—“

“Héctor.” You force a quick smile, “I know.”

A faint flush spreads across his cheeks. “Right. I suppose you would.” His eyes drift down to your camera, “is that me?”

Now it’s your turn to blush. “Uhm, yeah. I was taking individual pictures while I wait for María.” There’s a beat of silence, in which you realize he’s waiting to see it in full. “Oh! Here.” You take the strap off around your neck and diligently hand the camera to him.

Heart spreads across your hands when his fingers graze yours. He examines the picture, an impressed look passing over his expression. “Wow, this is.. really good.”

You laugh, “it’s really not that impressive. But, thank you anyways.” A sense of pride swells in your chest, his approval meaning more to you than he might have known.

“Could you send it to me?”

Blinking at him stupidly, you don’t catch onto the fact that he wanted you to send it to his number. “Sure! I can have María email it to you.”

Héctor suppressed a smirk, your obliviousness only made you all the cuter. “I meant send it to me, personally. As in, my number.”

Oh! Oh, right. Because he definitely wasn’t lowkey asking for your number.

“For sure, yeah. Like, me? Or, María..” You trail off. You sounded silly stumbling over your words so hard.

“After practice, find me. I’ll give you my number.” He smiles, “it was nice meeting you,” he says your name, and the way it rolled off his tongue so smoothly had your heartbeat stuttering.

“You too.” You force out, waving goodbye to him as he walks away. You were really starting to love this internship.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future héctor posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @sakashq @hrts4havertz @spidybaby !

[euphorix-moon]

Love Maze

Vi x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Helping Vi realize that she can break out of this loop that's she's in

Warning: Slightly Angsty and slightly out of character

A/n: Arcane season 2 just came out and i'm still reeling from everything, just had to make this cause i was inspired by episode 3 it broke my CaitVi heart

It was just one of those days,

There weren't many days where you would get the house all to yourself to enjoy so you didn't waste the chance to relax when your roommate said she was going out to run some errands.

You were currently enjoying your day re-reading through your favorite book series until you were disturbed by a sudden knock at the door.

You skeptical and slightly annoyed you went to go answer the door. Opening the door is when you came face to face with the pink-haired woman you came to know as Vi. She almost looked slightly surprised to see you at the door but kept her composure

"Is she here ? " Vi asked worriedly

"Hi nice to see you too, but unfortunately your girlfriend isn't here, she went out to do some stuff" you replied

She lightly sighs before saying, "Well if that's the case then I guess I'll wait for her till she gets back. That's fine with you, right ?" She says walking through the door before you can get a response out. You sigh closing the door behind you knowing she would stay and wait either way.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you guys so you took it upon yourself to try and get a conversation going.

"So....what brings you here ?..Is it the same issue again ?"

Vi glares at you but after some time does lightly nods her head to confirm your suspicions. You kept quiet lightly sighing to yourself.

The cycle had become almost predictable at this point: a fight would ignite, Caitlyn would storm off ghosting Vi, and then, a few days later, Vi would return, offering half-hearted apologies that seemed to smooth things over just enough to delay the inevitable crash. Caitlyn never seemed to learn, and neither did Vi. But the truth was, they both were just playing the same tired game, and you wanted all this nonsense to come to an end once and for all.

Here,” you said, slipping behind the counter to make a couple of drinks. “Let’s take the edge off. I’m sure you could use something stronger than water right now.”

Vi didn't argue. She sank down onto the couch, taking a deep breath, clearly exhausted from everything. As you handed her the glass, you kept your tone light, almost casual. "So, how's work? How’s your family? Anything to distract you from… well, everything?"

She gave a weak laugh, taking a sip of her drink. "Work’s fine. Same as usual. Nothing exciting," she muttered, looking down at her hands, clearly distracted. "Family’s... okay. You know how it is, always got something goin on"

You nodded, pretending to listen, but your mind was already working. "Yeah, I get that. But seriously, when’s the last time you actually did something for you, Vi? Like, something that made you feel alive? Not just for Cait, or for your job, but for yourself?"

That was a hook. Vi wasn’t even aware of it. She leaned forward, a little too eager to talk about herself, to talk about anything that didn’t involve the draining mess she was in. She starts going into detail about the many things she's been interested in but never got the chance to due to feeling like she's alway has to balance a thousand things in her life.

"Well if I'm gonna be real honest with you Violet, it sounds like this relationship is just another thing holding you back" you say with sincerity.

"It’s just... it’s not that simple, okay? Violet shot back.

me and her have history. We’ve been through a lot together. And—" she paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "Yeah, things have been tough lately. But we love each other. I know she has her issues, but I really think we can fix this. I don’t want to just... give up on everything we’ve built."

You almost rolled your eyes at the word history—as if that was supposed to make everything else okay.

"Vi," ."You’ve been ‘fixing’ things for months now. You keep telling yourself it’s just a phase, that Cait’s going to change, that things will get better. But they never do. You are stuck in a loop and you can’t keep pretending like nothing’s wrong."

"So, what? You want me to just leave her? After everything? You’re not even trying to help me,You’re supposed to be my friend. You should be supporting me in making this work, not... pushing me away from her!"Vi’s jaw clenched, her chest rising and falling with each breath as if she was holding back.

Her words stung just a little bit but you knew how to respond back. "I am doing this because i care enough to tell you the truth Vi, you deserve so much better than this. Don't let Caitlyn stress you out so much, especially when there's already a lot on your plate".

"You just don't get it. You don’t know what she's like when we’re together,” she says, still feeling obligated to defend her relationship.

"Maybe i don't and i might be wrong about all of this, but all I'm saying is that if you were my girlfriend id be the one coming to apologize and id try to find every possible way to make it up to you." You say leaning closer towards Vi

She sputters trying to find the words to defend herself, every single word unfortunately dying in her throat.

"I’d be the one begging you for another chance after acting like a dumbass. I'd spoil you and not let you do anything till you forgave me" You continued.

The silence that fell between you and Vi after your last words was thick with unspoken things. Vi feels as if her heart is beating out her chest as you continue to close the distance between the two of you guys.

"You do deserve better, Vi," you said, your voice soft but certain. "And when you’re ready, I’ll be here for you. Not just as your friend, but... more than that, if you want. You don’t need Cait to feel loved. I’m not going anywhere."

Vi looked at you, her eyes wide, and in that moment, it was like everything clicked for her

You wanted to kiss her. You wanted to show her that everything she needed wasn’t in Cait. That there was more for her. That she didn’t have to settle.

Just as you leaned forward, your lips barely inches from hers, the door to the room creaked open, and the sudden sound of keys jingling at the front door broke the fragile bubble that had formed between the two of you.

You two quickly back away from each other, moving to the opposite sides of the couch, averting eyes as Caitlyn walks into the room

A/n: Sorry for the cliffhanger and sorry to all the caitvi shippers, i love them too...i just can't pretend that i wouldn't want vi if they broke up fr.

[dinsbeskar]

Subjugate the Devil (Sauron/F!Reader)

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

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

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

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

Playlist!

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 4.2k (!!)

Sauron does not sleep. Ordinarily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm yours. Make me yours."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He is only too happy to oblige.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ishomieokay]

ALONE TOGETHER — homelander ♡ 18+

HOMELANDER x CLEANER READER

you're homelander's cleaner, but he's found a different use for you

✰ tags // warnings: cleaner!reader, non-con, dubious consent, objectification, forced relationship, naked/clothed, vaginal sex, power imbalance, cockwarming, references to gangbang/oral/anal (not between h/r, just in a tacky porn video).

✰ summary: homelander uses you as a fleshlight while watching porn on his big tv wall. you're not into it, but you kinda are. inspired by this post.

✰ author's notes: not for the faint hearted. seriously guys, this is foul. re-uploaded/edited to be more inclusive. find the original here.

✰ taglist: @welikeimagines-andfandoms

"So, whataya wanna watch?" he asks as he runs a hand down your naked back. You stifle a sound, feeling a shiver run through you. After all this time, you still haven’t gotten used to it—the feeling of his leather gloves against your exposed skin. 

“I don’t know, Sir,” you reply, hoping he will drop it. “I don’t watch porn.”

He's not hard. Sometimes it takes him some time to get there. You never comment on it, of course, afraid that he will lash out, that he will blame you. Still, he’s a warm, unsettling presence inside you. You can feel yourself dripping around him, aching for movement, for stimulation of any kind. You hate it.

“Yeah, yeah, all women say that. I wonder what I would find if I searched your browser history, though. Bet there’s some freaky stuff there.” Homelander takes the remote from the coffee table and turns on the TV. It’s obnoxious looking, large enough to cover the entire wall. The type of purchase men only make to flex and show off wealth. You had never seen him use it before. You’re not surprised to learn he bought it with the exclusive purpose of watching porn. 

Homelander paused, then, as if something had just occurred to him. “You ever starred in a sex tape, Becky?”

You clench your teeth, struggling not to snap at him. He keeps calling you that, no matter how many times you remind him that’s not your name. “No, Sir,” you reply curtly.

“Aren’t you a dream? ‘Sir, this,’ ‘Sir, that.’ They sure trained you well when you first got hired.” Homelander said, placing a hand around your hips, as if to keep you in place. You bite into your lip, struggling not to grind against him, not to search for contact. “You called me something else the other time, though. You haven’t forgotten, right? When I was fucking your ass raw against the dinner table?”

No more, master. Please, no more.

Just the memory has tears of shame and anger flooding your eyes. You refuse to let them spill. Over time you’ve come to learn that only arouses him more. “Master?” you repeat with a frown. You don't even know where that came from. You'd just been trying to appeal to his ego, to get him to stop hurting you.

“That’s the one! Love the sound of it, you say it so prettily,” he states, and you know he’s mocking you, that he doesn’t mean a word. If there’s something you’ve learned in your time working at Vought is that there’s always a double-meaning in Homelander’s praise. “You’re gonna call me that from now on.”

“Yes, master,” you say, cringing. There’s really no end to the humiliations this twisted pervert can come up with.

“Now, I won’t ask again. What are we watching?” he asks, pushing the remote into your hand. There’s no point in fighting him and you know it. You turn your head towards the TV Screen, quietly examining the adult website he’s chosen. It’s a catalog of his favorite videos. You struggle not to roll your eyes. What kind of loser catalogs his porn? God, he’s fucking pathetic. 

As you scroll down the list, heat builds in your lower stomach. You don’t like what you’re seeing. Porn is violent and demeaning and you’ve never liked it. You’ve been aroused for some time now, though, and you can feel your judgment slipping. It’s been over an hour since Homelander ordered you into his bedroom, forcing you to abandon your domestic chores to attend to more pressing matters. An hour since he had you undress and sit on his lap, warming his limp cock while he lounged about on his leather armchair. You know he’s teasing you, leaving you aroused, wet and unfulfilled on purpose. It’s a game he likes to play.

“I like this one,” you say, opening a random video. Homelander huffs out a laugh.

“Ohhh, would you look at that? Girl on girl action? I knew you were into weird stuff,” Homelander says, and he sounds amused, almost gleeful, but there’s an edge to his voice—an underlying irritation that lets you know you’ve committed a mistake. He grabs you by the throat, then, fast, roughly and without warning. “You’re not a lesbian, are you, Becky?”

“No, master,” you say, trying to stay calm, to not let your fear show. That only makes things worse. “I like men.”

I like you, it’s what he wants to hear, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. 

“Good. Didn’t feel like watching that, anyway,” he says, taking the remote from you. You struggle not to make a face. Of course he asks you to choose, only to have the chance to say no to you. He’s such a manchild. “Oooh, this one’s better. Girl gets gangbanged at local billiard. That will get us in the mood.”

You can feel heat rising up your throat, and force yourself to take a deep breath. It abates the nausea, to an extent. It’s not a stretch to say that vomiting right now could very well be the death of you. He skips the video forward, seemingly too impatient to power through the foreplay. He stops at a frame of the woman laying on a pool table, surrounded by at least 15 men, her legs spread and completely naked. You swallow hard. She looks like you.

He doesn’t strike you as the type who likes sharing, and he’s much too fixated on power to be a cuck. Still, you hope he’s not getting any ideas. The video starts rolling. The woman moans, loud and shamelessly, those fake high-pitched sounds only porn actresses make. A man is fucking her on the front, another in the ass, and a third one is using her throat like a fleshlight, unbothered by the spit and the gagging sounds. The other men are masturbating to the sight, waiting for their turn, ready to cum all over her. It’s disgusting, and you have to look away. 

Homelander is pulling you by the air in a second, forcing you to look. You don’t fight him. You stare towards the screen, unblinking, unseeing. He’s finally getting hard. That’s a good thing. The sooner this torture ends, the better. 

When he’s done, he comes inside you. That’s a given with him, although he never bothers to use a condom. You fish some wet wipes from your purse and clean yourself up as best as you can. His eyes are on you as you put your mandatory pink uniform back on, along with the tag with your name on it. You don’t stare back. Not until he addresses you first.

“What do you say?” he asks, a twinkle in his eyes. 

You swallow your pride, as you’ve done so many times in the past. “Thank you, master. I’m always glad to assist you.”

Homelander smiles at you, wide and unsettling. “You’re a good girl. Now, go finish with the living room, will ya,” he says, spanking you as you finally make your way out of his bedroom, “this place’s a fucking mess.” 

[aftgtandn]

We're at a real risk of sounding like a broken record at this point but you guys are AMAZING!

We still can't believe how much support you all have shown the fest. From reblogs and retweets, to comments and joining in all the fun games, it's truly been a blast.

We really, really can't thank you enough! Our hearts are so full to see T&N fest be so fun for the second year in a row — and it's all your doing! Every fic, every piece of art, every work adopted, every meme, every comment left, every full bingo card, every rec. IT WAS ALL YOU.

To our creators in particular: we owe you THE WORLD. Thank you for being brilliant. Please make sure to tag us in all your claim posts so we can reblog them!

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO... here's the full list of works AND THEIR INCREDIBLY TALENTED CREATORS:

Are you Real? by Whyreme Rated Mature | 6052 words Andrew comes back from Easthaven but Neil isn't at Palmetto, where he promised he would be. If you ever wondered what it would be like if Andrew was present for the immediate aftermath of Christmas at the Nest, this one is for you.

[art] don't flinch. by ghostheroes Rated Gen | Art There's not that much space from the cheek to the eye. In the art piece we have for you today, Lola aims the lighter barely an inch higher.

echoes by doodleishere Rated Teen | 100 words What if Kevin didn't leave the next alone? In this flash fic, Jean gets out too when Riko's anger finally snaps.

Bite the hand by Ateiluj Rated Mature | 4515 words We all have asked the question: what was going through Andrew's mind during The Choking Incident? A question we might have not asked, however, is: what would happen if no one stopped him? Well, this fic answers both of those!

duck duck goose by glittersinnin Rated Gen | 2329 words When Andrew goes through Neil's duffel, Neil holds his tongue. It will take some patience for him to get adequate revenge. Patience... and some experience handling the local water foul.

Let Down by maydaykevin Rated Gen | 4132 words How would it affect Kevin and Andrew's deal if Kevin hit Andrew back when Andrew chokes him? How is their relationship impacted by this unexpected bout of violence between them? Find out in this fic!

If You're Throwing Me to the Lions by orionauriga Rated Teen | 3763 words It's not easy when your boyfriend comes with a whole lot of baggage, especially twin-brother-who-hates-you shaped baggage. It's not easy but it's worth it, for Aaron, and Katelyn knows how to stand her ground.

If I was easy to kill you would have done it already by lazarusthefirst Rated Mature | 9196 words They were always meant to be partners, now it's Jean's job to make sure Neil behaves. Neil isn't great at being a partner, but he knows partners don't leave each other behind. In this fic, Neil doesn't come back to Palmetto alone.

Butterfly Effect! Read More on Page 12 by animediac Rated Gen | 5194 words How much can the death of one character affect the narrative? Through newspaper and blog articles, emails and social media posts, that's exactly what this fic explores. How many lives can the butterfly effect of one unfortunate 'accident' change?

Nathaniel by nyaar0n Rated Gen | Art Neil Josten is a Fox, but what if he never got the chance to be? Nathaniel Wesninski is a Raven through and through, and in this art piece, he snatches the spotlight both on the court and with his partner.

Now it's Time to Live (and Turn to Dust) by Witheredcarnelians Rated Mature | 4573 words Renee makes it just in time to save Jean ... or does she? This fic explores the crushing guilt of leaving behind a loved one, and being unable to save them in the end.

caught up in you by rooftopkisses Rated Mature | 5463 words "What are you hoping for, coordinates?" Neil doesn't lock the door, and Nicky walks in on Neil and Andrew kissing. Nicky can be trusted — mostly because he fears Andrew's knife — but Andrew's tendency toward quiet implosion is a different story.

but i've walked this far by rwnjun Rated Teen | 14556 words When the countdown ends, Neil gets taken. His dad is dead, but manages to make substantial damage before he gets shot. Now Nathaniel gets to be Neil Josten, but who is Neil Josten if he can't play Exy?

i've been feeling smaller by neiljokesten (vykio) Rated Teen | 2433 words Over worrying and wound-tending, Aaron and Neil get caught on a never-ending loop of the pot calling the kettle black over sacrificing themselves to protect a loved one

a familiar face by Shinobimoon Rated Gen | 4184 words How would things have gone if Kevin had recognized Neil right away? Would Neil have run, or still signed with the Foxes? Read more in this fic!

Better Luck Next Time by AllAngstNoComfort Rated Mature | 7812 words What if Riko had gone for Aaron instead of Seth, that night? In this fic, we learn exactly that and how that affects the Foxes.

the most unkindest cut of all by deadangelo Rated Mature | 2550 words Riko Moriyama has been many things to Kevin Day: a friend, a brother, a partner, a monster. The die has been cast. Riko is going to die. This time around, Ichirou has a spectator seat saved for Kevin.

we want the young blood by undermoonwalker Rated Teen | Art What if Elodie was sold to the Ravens? What if Jean had a predetermined partner through all that darkness? This art looks at the possibilities of the Moreau Ravens!

you'll be alright (no one can hurt you now) by wesawbears Rated Teen | 1757 words Jeremy Knox can't figure out their newest recruit. But having some secrets of his own means that he can tell when something isn't right, and if there's one thing about the Trojans is that they protect their own.

as soft as feathers by delossanctuary Rated Mature | 4714 words What's a T&N fest without a devastating Abby fic? This year, ponder on this: what if Neil's finger slipped when he needed an airport pickup?

TKO by justadreamfox Rated Mature | 4733 words Remember that busboy Neil paid to knock him out? In today's T&N fic, Neil doesn't get left on the floor of the club afterwards. Not everyone is out to get him.

i know that i did you wrong (but will you trust me when i say that i'll make it up to you somehow) by evenfallwriter Rated Mature | 7076 words Neil gets something different for his 19th birthday: his father's death.

depraved heart by decaflondonfog Rated Mature | 7000 words There is a horrible scene at the Hemmick house. There is a dead man on the ground. There is Andrew, laughing. And then there is Kevin, standing with a bloody knife in hand and something far more potent than fear clawing at his rib cage.

kintsugi by gus_47 Rated Explicit | 4728 words Riko's violence knows no bounds; what if he didn't stop at Kevin's hand? This fic follows Jean as he weathers and grieves the aftermath of the Raven's ugliest secret.

The Mallard's Lullaby by Random2002 Rated Mature | 6313 words The Moreau family are good at business; why sell one child to an Exy empire when you can sell two? Good thing Elodie's got a stuffed duck, a pieced together first aid kit, and her brother. What more do you need?

Light in a prism by sassy_pen_sassy Rated Teen | 1030 words There's a life outside of the walls of the EAU Raven's nest; Jean learns what that's like with Renee by his side in this sweet fic.

not dead (yet) by ashestoashes7 Rated Mature | 13593 words When Andrew is released from Easthaven, only three of his charges are there to pick him up. He always knew Neil was a pipedream. If Andrew cared more, Neil could become a nightmare.

Digits by twolipsliterature Rated Teen | 2700 words A cheerleader and a Exy player on the run from his hitman father walk into a bar. This time, Neil gives Marissa his number instead of being an asshole for once.

shots fired by liaisun Rated Mature | Art Neil threw out the guns when his mother died, but today we take a look at how things might have gone if he hadn't.

Timing by HereBeChickens Rated Teen | 1116 words Kevin scores. Neil falls to his knees. ""You've always known what it's like to be second."" Riko swings. Andrew still gets there in time. But this is where we diverge.

presumably dead arm by kevjean Rated Mature | 15518 words What if someone else had found Kevin first after Riko broke his hand? What if that someone was special in a way that was never allowed before? In this fic, Kevin finds a slightly different way out of the Nest, and discovers something on the way.

and this is just my luck by starwarned Rated Teen | 2107 words Kevin Day is a star. He won't let a gay crisis get in his way. At least, that's the plan -- it becomes difficult for Kevin to maintain that dissonance after he overhears Andrew offering to blow Neil.

n'oublie pas de vivre by FireHeartAW Rated Teen | 5028 words What is left of Jean Moreau without Exy? Can he find a new place for himself without the Ravens even if his injuries prevent him from ever playing again? And what does he need to make that happen?

i am not scared of death, i've got dreams again by liliacskiess Rated Explicit | 5566 words Eden's back alleyway is not the place to be on a Friday night; Nicky learns that the hard way in today's fic which asks 'What if Andrew didn't arrive in time to fight Nicky's attackers'?

Back to the Old House by TearsOfATrickster Rated Teen | 6664 words Neil's not the only one willing to protect Andrew when he's at Easthaven. What if Kevin went back to EAU for Christmas?

Only Human by aquared46 Rated Mature | 2677 words “Shouldn’t I feel different? Powerful?” Neil survives his father, but the encounter leaves him with nightmares that seem like they should be good dreams. Andrew is there to listen as Neil tries to process.

Baltimore Basement by ConventionalExy Rated Mature | Art The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. In this art, Neil is taken to Baltimore by his father's people, but he knows his way around a cleaver.

The Graveyard Shift by KweenDay Rated Mature | 7100 words What if Andrew noticed there was something wrong in the locker room? What if Andrew stayed at Neil’s side? What if Andrew was brought to Baltimore too? In this fic we find out exactly what goes down behind the walls of the Wesninski manor.

the ongoing effects of growing a backbone by favbitchcharlie Rated Teen | 10641 words What if instead of giving Neil the plane ticket to EAU, Kevin tore it up? What if Neil let a bit of Nathaniel slip through? In this fic, Kevin and Neil go to break Andrew out of Easthaven in their own non-Coach-approved way.

The Prince and The Pauper by CherriPips Rated Mature | 8695 words After Riko broke his hand, Kevin went running to Wymack, but what if he saw Andrew first? In this fic, we find exactly how that interaction goes down.

Tear away at the Mask by Moondal Rated Teen | 2779 words What if more than one Fox had crossed paths with Neil in his past life? And what if this one particular Fox immediately recognized him, too? This is a fic about Natalie Shields, Nathaniel Wesninski, and about reinventing yourself.

scavenger's hunt by kiwiaok Rated Mature | 10341 words In a world where Lola survives her gunshot wounds in Baltimore, Neil has to face her once more during her trial, and things come to light that he would rather had stayed hidden.

Neil Josten Is Not Fine by the_greater_grief Rated Teen | 3362 words "In Neil’s dreams, Aaron never shows up to save the day." Neil's nightmares have become a problem even he can't ignore. When his sleeplessness begins to mess with his performance on the court, he gives in. Maybe Dobson isn't so bad, after all.

damage control by seasy33 Rated Mature | 11656 words When Andrew witnesses Nicky kissing Neil, his confidence in his plan to break Neil wavers. What can he stomach in his mission to keep his family safe? And what will it actually take to learn Neil's secrets?

patient violence by Mercey Rated Mature | 6981 words An orderly catches Dr. Proust and Andrew ends up escaping Easthaven early. Where to next? Well, Neil’s in the Nest and Andrew’s looking into a jailbreak. In this fic we find out what happens when Andrew goes to get Neil out of the Nest.

Deadliest Piece by LynxDoesArt Rated Explicit | Art When Neil realizes that something is wrong at the Hemmick's house, he rushes upstairs to find Andrew with the rest of the monsters close behind. What if Kevin got a hand on Neil's racquet before Aaron?

it lives in the throat by timeloops (kunimi) Rated Teen | 14440 words Switching places with your twin is fun, until… technically, Aaron Minyard dies in a car crash with his mother. But the dead body isn’t Aaron and now he must deal with the fallout of it all.

With all the love and appreciation in the world,

Your T&N'24 mods and helpers 💚

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |10|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Fighting, Attempted Murder, Stabbing, Strangling

Word Count: 4k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

You sat on the back of an ambulance as one of the medics checked you out. You didn’t get hurt in the fight, but you didn’t realize you had ripped open your stitches until a medic was running over to you, asking if you were okay and pointing at the drops of blood. You denied them when they asked if you wanted to go to the hospital, you didn’t have time for all that, so they just stitched you up there and gave you a disapproving look.

“Gone up against Ghostface twice and game come out on top both times,” someone said. You looked up to see Kirby walking over to you. “Not many can say they’ve done that.”

“Seems like plenty have survived Ghostface,” you mumbled. Your eyes moved to focus on the figures behind Kirby. Sam was next to Tara as they were checked out by a medic and gave their statement to an officer. You took notice that the detective who was apparently on the case was the one person yet to be on the scene.

Kirby bobbed her head back and forth. “Not usually on their first encounter, unless they were running away or someone else showed up.”

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” Bailey shouted as he stormed up to you and Kirby. “You had a gun?”

“It’s licensed,” you snapped. “And it came in handy, would you like me to not have a weapon when a psycho is attacking us?”

Bailey scoffed and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe you dared argue with him. “Lot of good that did, he got away,” he gestured to the store.

“I got him, it’s not my fault you didn’t arrive in time.”

“Well, you didn’t finish the job,” Bailey snapped, as if it were your fault Ghostface got away. “Thought you were supposed to be special forces,” he scoffed.

You slowly rose from the ambulance until you were standing tall, staring Bailey down. “I’m a soldier, not an executioner,” you kept your voice steady but there was an edge to your tone, one daring Bailey to cross the invisible line.

Bailey let out a chuckle, as if he were truly amused you said that. “Your file isn’t even legible with how much is redacted,” Bailey stepped forward, puffing out his chest. “How many missions have you had involved you getting your hands dirty?” You clenched your jaw, he was trying to compare your missions to Ghostface, they were completely different, as a cop he should know that. “How many people have you executed without them even knowing you were there?”

“It’s different,” you said, your tone quiet as you tried to contain the rage underneath. You were aware of Sam’s eyes on you from where she still stood next to Tara, though she moved forward a few steps, as if she were going to come intervene between you and Bailey.

“Why?” Bailey chuckled. “Because those were your orders?”

You stepped forward, ready to give Bailey a piece of your mind when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked to the side to see Kirby, silently asking you to let it go. “Let’s all just take a breath,” she said, looking between you and Bailey.

“I got civilians dead because-”

“Because we haven’t got this guy,” Kirby snapped. She positioned herself in front of you, so she was now standing between you and Bailey. “So, why don’t we stop placing blame and catch this fucker.”

Bailey gave a little snarl but finally backed away. “I have a crime scene to work,” he mumbled as he turned and walked towards the store.

“When did you get the call?” You asked, your eyes tracking Bailey as he crouched down at the body of the store owner just inside the door.

“A thank you would suffice,” Kirby said when she turned around. The amused smirk on her face told you she wasn’t actually mad at you.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely anyway. “When did the call come in?”

“About twenty minutes ago. Someone saw Ghostface chasing after some people down the street,” Kirby looked back at the bodega. “Then several calls about shots fired came in a minute later.”

“Response was quick,” your eyes scanned all the cops working the scene. There was more than what would usually be considered necessary, but most of the officers were being used to hold back random people trying to get a look and the media.

“I was at the station.” Your eyes instantly snapped to Kirby. “I actually thought we might get here in time,” she let out a humorless chuckle. When she looked back at you, she furrowed her brow. “What?”

“Where was Bailey?” If Kirby was at the station, then there was no reason for Bailey to arrive as late as he did. All the other cops and Kirby arrived well before the detective who was supposed to be working the case, who claimed to care so much about the innocent lives being lost.

“I’m not sure,” Kirby shook her head. “Wait, you don’t actually think…” her voice got quieter with each word. “But you hit Ghostface.”

“Only in the chest,” your tone dropped to barely above a whisper. You didn’t know who to trust, you couldn’t risk anyone over hearing you. On top of that, just because you had your suspicions you didn’t have proof, you couldn’t be spreading rumors about Bailey if he wasn’t actually guilty, it could ruin his career. As much as you hated the guy you weren’t about to destroy a man’s career without evidence that he was dirty. “Whoever it was, was wearing Kevlar.”

Kirby followed your gaze and watched Bailey with the same kind of gaze as you. “They could have just seen the movies, learned to always wear a vest.” You nodded, that was likely, based on what little you heard it seemed like these psychos studied each other, trying to learn where the previous incarnation went wrong.

“Everything in me is telling me not to trust him,” you said.

“Better safe than sorry if you trust no one.” You looked at Kirby, watching as her eyes scanned the crowd, memorizing every face, just in case someone stood out or someone popped up again.

“Even you?” You raised an eyebrow.

You liked Kirby a lot more than Bailey. She’d done nothing but treat you with respect so far and you’d return the courtesy. At the end of the day though, you didn’t know her, you didn’t know any of them. Kirby hadn’t given you a reason to be suspicious of her but that didn’t mean she couldn’t possibly be involved. It was hell of a coincidence for Kirby to show up right after Ghostface attacked Sam, but she said she investigated Ghostface attacks, she knew Sam, they had a shared history, it was clear Kirby had a history with at least one of the previous Ghostface’s, like Sam and her friends did.

Kirby turned her head and looked at you, her eyes seemed to analyze you. She gave a little shrug. “Can never be too careful,” she said, nodding her head. “How much do you know about Ghostface, the attacks?”

You shrugged. “Not much,” you said. Of course, you knew the stories, everyone did, but you didn’t know the details. “I know the rumors whispered about Sam,” you looked across the way where Sam still stood with Tara.

“Well, I won’t say anything about Sam, that’s her story to tell.” You gave a ghost of a smile at that, you didn’t believe the rumors, you wanted to hear Sam’s story from herself. “But Ghostface is usually connected to the group of friends he’s going after. The first attacks were done by Billy Loomis and his best friend Stu Macher all to get back at Sidney Prescott, who Billy was dating.” You nodded, you were aware of that much of the story. “Me and my friends were attacked in 2011.” You furrowed your brow, you had been a freshman in high school, you probably heard people talking about the attacks in school but didn’t know any details.

You looked at Kirby when she didn’t immediately continue. She was clearly trying to remain composed but there were tears in her eyes, and rage underneath. “My best friend and the guy I liked were the ones behind the attacks. All because Jill wanted to be famous,” she shook her head and let out a humorless chuckle. “Of my friends, I was the only one to survive.”

You looked at Kirby in a new light, you understood now where all her pain and motivation came from. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. Those words wouldn’t do anything, but they were the only thing you could offer. It wasn’t easy being the only survivor, it was lonely, no one could quite understand it, you knew that all too well.

Kirby gave you a thankful smile. “I know why you didn’t finish the job,” she whispered. “But this kind of thing,” she shook her head. “It only ends in two ways, kill or be killed.”

You looked down, taking in Kirby’s words. You had done a lot of terrible things, things you never talked about. You did all of them for the greater good though, at least that’s what you told yourself, you were following orders, trying to stop someone bad from doing something worse. Killing Ghostface in self-defense was one thing but executing him when he was already down was another. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done it before, but those were always terrible people, terrorists, crime lords, people who did unspeakable things. You knew Ghostface wasn’t good but in your head, there was a separation, that being in New York, being home, it made things different, war was one thing, this was another altogether.

“Are you okay?” Kirby asked, bringing you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Sam and Tara had approached.

“Now that we’re done with the endless questioning,” Sam grumbled.

“It’s just protocol,” Kirby gave her an apologetic smile.

“Are we free to go?”

“Of course.” Kirby looked back at you, “I just need your gun.” You let out a displeased sigh. “Protocol.”

“I know,” you said, still clearly displeased. You pulled out your gun, releasing the magazine and making sure there wasn’t one in the chamber before dropping it into the evidence bag Kirby held out.

You fired your gun, it was an active crime scene, and that meant your gun was evidence. Even though you didn’t kill anyone they still needed your gun to at least know which bullets were from you and which ones were from Ghostface, even though your 9mm was completely different than the shotgun Ghostface was using.

“Don’t worry, I will personally make sure the lab gets this,” Kirby said.

You watched her walk off. “Are you okay?” Sam asked, making you look at her. “Things with Bailey seemed tense.”

You rolled your eyes and looked around until you found Bailey across the way talking to one of the other officers. “Apparently he wasn’t satisfied with the way I handled things,” you said, glaring at Bailey.

“You saved our lives,” Sam said softly, you stopped glaring at Bailey to give Sam a grateful smile.

“Did you have a gun this whole time?” Tara asked, speaking for the first time since the attack happened. She was looking at you suspiciously, trying to appear strong with her arms crossed, but you could see the fear behind her eyes.

“Yes,” you answered honestly, you knew it would do no good to lie to Tara.

“Did you know?” she looked at her sister.

“Yes,” Sam said. Tara’s face morphed into one of hurt. “I thought it was better if no one knew, we don’t know who to trust.”

Tara clenched her jaw as she wordlessly nodded. “You could have told me.” Sam guiltily looked down as Tara stormed off.

You gently tapped Sam’s shoulder and offered her a small smile. She returned your smile and the two of you followed after Tara. You understood why Tara was upset, if the roles were reversed, you’d probably feel the same. On the other hand, the only reason you were able to get the upper hand on Ghostface was because no one else knew you had the gun on you.

The three of you walked back to the apartment without another incident. You noticed how Sam shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket as you passed people, keeping her head down, probably hoping none of them recognized her. Three of you trekked up the various sets of stairs until you finally got back to the sister’s apartment.

“Where is everyone?” Sam asked as soon as she stepped through the door.

You came up behind her, peeking around her to see Ethan and Quinn were nowhere in sight. “Quinn is with a gentleman caller,” Mindy said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Ethan left a little bit after you,” Chad said, not even bothering to look up as he mindless flipped through channels on the TV. “Said he had Econ.”

Sam rolled her eyes as she walked towards the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water. Tara flopped down in the chair next to the couch and you made your way to the far end of the couch, taking a seat next to Chad. A moment later Chad furrowed his brow and sat up straighter. You looked up to see he had stopped flipping through the channels and had stopped on the news. You furrowed your brow as well when you saw a picture of Sam pop up on the screen. Mindy plucked the remote out of Chad’s hand and turned up the volume.

“Ghostface is taking on New York,” the report said. “And the prime suspect seems to be Samantha Carpenter, daughter of the original Ghostface killer, Billy Loomis.” You looked to the side to see Sam standing in the doorway, her eyes filled with tears as she stared at the TV, trying to remain strong. “She is rumored to have setup her boyfriend, Richie Kirsch, in the killings last year.” Your ears instantly perked up at the name, it was the same name that popped up on Sam’s phone before the recent attack. “Right before killing him herself. Now-”

“Bullshit!” Chad snapped, aggressively pressing the power button. “They don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about.” He slammed down the remote on the coffee table.

Chad jumped up from the couch and stormed over to the dining table where Tara was sitting next to Sam, Mindy following close behind. You watched as Sam curled in on herself, trying to make herself as small as possible as Tara tried to comfort her. You couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, and you didn’t feel right about eavesdropping, they deserved their privacy. You decided to focus on your feet, as Sam’s friends tried to comfort her. You tried not to let what the reporter said invade your mind, you learned a little more about Sam, but you didn’t want to take the media’s word for it. Sam wasn’t a suspect, they already got that wrong, she was the victim.

You heard loud banging coming from Quinn’s room but didn’t think much of it as everyone laughed it off, seeming to go on as if this was regular occurrence. Everyone’s phones, besides yours, went off, shifting the energy in the room. You slid next to Anika, looking over her shoulder as she opened a message on her phone, showing a picture of Quinn being stabbed by Ghostface.

Everyone shot to their feet, the yelling from Quinn’s room got louder then suddenly stopped. Everyone gathered in the middle of the living room as they stared at Quinn’s door, waiting to for what would happen next. Before you knew it the door flung open and Ghostface tossed Quinn’s body out, which landed on Anakin, sending her to the ground.

“Go!” you shouted, pointing at the front door.

Chad grabbed Tara and yanked her out the front door. When Mindy tried to follow Ghostface slashed her across the arm and sent her to the ground.

Anika pushed Quinn’s body off herself and pulled herself to her feet. Ghostface was right there though, grabbing her by the neck and slamming her into the wall. He raised his knife, twirling it back and forth as he got ready to stab Anika. Without thinking you rushed forward and tackled him to the ground before he could stab Anika.

You punched Ghostface in the face, ignoring the pain that radiated through your knuckles with each hit to the mask. You grabbed his hand that was holding the knife and slammed it on the ground until he dropped it. You pushed the knife away before trying to stand up. As soon as you started to get off Ghostface he swung his legs around, tripping you and sending you back to the floor. He scrambled away from you as he grabbed his knife again.

He jumped back to his feet and stood over you, tilting his head as he waved the knife back and forth. You smirked when you saw Sam come up from behind him and hit him on the back of the head with a wood block of some sort. When Ghostface stumbled forward you kicked out your foot, tripping him and sending him tumbling to the floor.

Sam held out a hand to you and as soon as you took it, she yanked you up. While Sam was helping you, Anika helped Mindy up, then Sam ushered the three of you into the bedroom. She ran across the room and into the bathroom to lock a door while you slammed the door closed as soon as you got inside. Everyone rushed around the room, knocking over furniture and using anything to try and barricade the doors.

“Danny?” Sam asked, furrowing her brow as she looked out the window. You followed her gaze to see her neighbor waving his arms out his window as he tried to get someone’s attention.

Sam opened the window. “Are you crazy?” she called out. You made your way next to her to see Danny pushing a ladder out of his window. You helped Sam grab the ladder and stabilize it so everyone could crawl across.

“Go,” you said, nodding at Sam.

Sam looked back at Mindy and Anika as they tried to hold the door closed as Ghostface attempted to shove his way in. “But-” she looked back at you.

“Go,” you ordered, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Sam reluctantly got on the ladder and began making her way across. You ran to Mindy and Anakin, falling into place right beside them as you helped hold the door. “Your turn,” you nodded at Anika.

Anika shook her head, there were tears streaming down her face. You looked at Mindy for a little help and when she looked back at the door you assured her you had it. Mindy grabbed Anika and dragged her over to the window. Anika’s crying only got louder as she convinced Mindy to go first. Once Mindy was out the window and making her way across Anika turned back to you.

“Go!” you ordered again. “Go,” you gestured with your hand. “I’ll be fine.”

With shaky hands Anika lifted herself out of the window and began making her way across the ladder. Almost as soon as you loosened your hold on the door Ghostface plowed through, sending you falling to the ground. You recovered almost instantly and jumped across the bed when you saw he was making his way for the window, to Anika.

You grabbed the curtains and wrapped them around Ghostface’s neck before he could get his hands on the ladder. You pulled the curtain tighter, feeling his body spasm and kicked as he clawed at the fabric, but you were stronger than him. You caught a glance out the window, seeing Anika be pulled to safety. It wasn’t until you had him so close that you were confident this Ghostface was one of the ones from the gym, not the one from the bodega.

Ghostface stopped pulling at the cloth, but a second later you felt a sharp pain in your thigh. You gritted your teeth, suppressing a scream as best as you could. You looked down to see a knife sticking out of your leg before Ghostface ripped it out. You let go of the curtain, releasing Ghostface as you brought a hand to the wound.

You tried to stand up as straight as you could, but blood was gushing between your fingers. Ghostface recovered quicker as he whipped around and swung his knife down. You raised your hand, making sure the knife only sliced your forearm.

Your hand shot out, catching Ghostface’s arm before he could bring the knife down again. You ignored the blood running down your arm, you didn’t have time to worry about stopping the bleeding. While your other hand was still pressing against the wound on your thigh, Ghostface took his free hand and punched you in the side, right where your stitches were.

You let go of his hand as you brought your hand to your side, surely having ripped your stitches again. You ignored the others yelling for you as Ghostface brought down his knife again, this time when you blocked his arm with yours and brought your knee up, nailing him in the stomach. While he was doubled over you brought your good leg up and kicked him square in the chest, sending him tumbling over the side of the bed.

As much as you wanted to finish the fight you knew you were in no condition to do so. You limped over to the window and climbed out onto the ladder. When you looked ahead you could see Sam and Danny gesturing at you to hurry. You crawled as best as you could with one good leg and one good arm, ignoring the way the blood dripped down your hand, making the ladder and your hand slippery with each movement.

“Hurry!” Sam yelled; her voice strained. You looked up to see her eyes wide and not focused on you but something behind you. You glanced over your shoulder to see Ghostface standing at the window. He impaled the knife in the windowsill before using both hands to grab the end of the ladder.

You gritted your teeth; you were really starting to hate this guy. You continued to crawl, your grip tightening as Ghostface lifted the ladder, jostling it back and forth to try and get you to fall. You nearly lost your grip once, having to wrap your arm under the rungs and keep your body low so you didn’t go over the side.

You looked up, judging the distance from where you were to the window. You let out a shaky breath as you slowly loosened your grip, despite Ghostface still shaking the ladder with all his strength. You got into a crouch position and kicked off, ungracefully launching yourself off the ladder and at the window. You reached out, catching on the windowsill with one hand. You brought up your bloody hand, which instantly found the home of someone else’s. You looked up to see Sam holding onto you as Danny held your other hand and began to pull you up.

You made it through the window, instantly collapsing on the ground next to Danny. You looked back at him as he moved out from underneath you, his hands instantly going to your wounds to try and stop the bleeding. You couldn’t help but groan at the pressure. Sam helped drag you against the wall to prop you up. You let your head flop against the wall, you strained to stay conscious, focusing on Mindy’s voice as she called for an ambulance, and on Sam’s hands as they wrapped a scratchy cloth around your arm, trying to stop the bleeding.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess @luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee @bella423

[dsireland86]

Hii! :)

Can you do imagine request "Nap dates"? I had inspiration when i was listening Angus & Julia Stone's song Nothing Else. Y/n is working for Sumerian Records and is interested tour management. Sumerian sent her with Matt to work with the production so Matt can focus more on audio things. Y/n is first shy and trying to focus 120% only working but Noah is trying to get Y/n in every way. She is almost thirty years old and single, for the first time in a completely foreign environment. She is a native Finnish speaker and still looking for a little communication in English. She's a little shy, slow to ignite, but she's also been eyeing Noah, but scared that everything will go wrong. Her motto has been that you don't eat from the load. She talks a lot about how she misses skin to skin touching, but is too afraid of having relationships or sex with strangers and Noah suggests nap dates. She has a rule: no sex, no kissing, only cuddles and naps. Y/n is gemini ja Noah is Scorpio so they are not compatible and they try their best to fight off their interest in the other, but they still end up trying nap dates. Eventually they become romantically interested in each other and they end up kissing and having sensual, but mind blowing sex.

Nap Dates

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey@rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12@sister-sebastian

The flight from Finland was almost thirteen hours. I check the time once I land then make a quick call to the record label once I'm out of the terminal, following the signs to ground transpiration. Even though this is my first time on any foreign soil, thanks to the help of the internet and the amount of English I know, I'm able to maneuver my way through the airport well enough to get to where I need to be. Still on the phone, my boss tells me there's an Uber waiting for me outside that will take me to the hotel where I'll be staying. In the morning, one will pick me up and drive me to the studio to meet with the man I was sent here to work with. 

A while back I mentioned to the label that I was interested in learning more about tour management in America, so they set me up with a guy named Matt with a strange last name I couldn’t pronounce, and arranged a meeting with him via video call. I liked him instantly. He was easy to talk to and had a really nice personality. I knew we were going to be a good match Upon exiting the airport, I see the Uber waiting for me. I climb in and we head to the hotel where I check in, find my room, then showering, and finally sleep. The drive to the studio the next morning is a quick one. I'm nothing but a messy bundle of nerves the minute I walk inside, wondering why I ever agreed to take this job. Turning the corner, I see two men standing in the hall and they both smile the moment they see me. My cheeks redden instantly. 

"Hey, can we help you?" a man, wearing a black ball cap asks. He has dirty blond hair down to his shoulders, a pointed nose and a very cute smile. He looks at me as if he recognizes me, and I admit to myself that he, too, looks very familiar. "I, uh, yes. Maybe? I don't know actually."

My English comes out slower than I want it to, but at least they can understand me. The other guy, tall with long brown hair pulled up in a messy bun, smiles at me too and proceeds to speak to me in Swedish. I sigh in perfect joy. We carry on a brief conversation where I explain who I am and why I’m here, learning that his name is Joakim, but his friends call him "Jolly", and that he is part of the band that I'll be working with.

"And this," he says, clamping a hand down on the shoulder of the man with the ball cap, "is Matt, our tour manager." "Oh my gosh, I'm an idiot," I cringe, slapping my forehead with my hand. I look back up at Matt only to see him grinning at me. "You knew who I was the whole time, didn't you?" Matt slowly nods, unable to hide his smile. I nod, too, feeling completely embarrassed. "Hey, don't worry about it," Matt encourages me. "You've had a long couple of days. I'm sure you're beat." "Yeah, just a little. Jet lag is kicking my ass.” "Come," Jolly says, I'll introduce you to the other guys." I nod and follow them down the hall to a room on the right.

Nicholas, Nick who goes by Folio, and Noah; the three remaining band members. I shake each of their hands, smiling shyly at them, but stop and stare hard the moment I get to Noah. He stares at me, his expression is cool and relaxed and his disarming smile penetrates my entire body. Noah seems to be a laid back sort of person and it helps me to relax a bit. Matt takes me over to the sound equipment, asking me questions about what I know and what I'm able to bring to the table as far as tour production, and I'm honest and thorough, telling him what I know and can do. He's impressed and says I'll be a great fit. Glancing over at Noah, I catch the way he's staring at me. His brown almond eyes are deep and entrancing, making it extremely hard to look away. I take a deep breath and exhale it through my nose quickly, trying my best to refocus my attention back to Matt.

It's been three weeks of work and I love my job. Matt is the best. Very easy going and easy to work with. His personality and intelligence match mine when it comes to work and pretty soon, the two of us, along with Noah, have a whole idea planned out for the upcoming tour. Noah is growing on me and I’d like to think I'm growing on him too. Getting to know him more, I learn he’s a little reserved and introverted like me, but very sweet, which is surprising to me considering his stage presence. Everyday I'm around him, my feelings about him change. The fluttery, butterfly feeling that would come and go is permanently there now and it only grows whenever we're together. It's ridiculous, actually. I'm thirty years old, not a teenager. Noah shouldn't have this sort of effect on me; yet he does. And if I'm being honest, I'm beginning to really like the feeling. 

The day I met Y/N face to face was the day my world turned upside down. I was drawn to her for reasons I didn’t know or couldn’t understand. I was never known to be a guy interested in the opposite sex to the point it was all I could think about. But she was; she was all I could think about.  I couldn't concentrate on anything but her and the way she moved so gracefully and the way she spoke, softly and slowly with her moderate Swedish accent that was thicker than Jolly's and much sweeter. Her smile was simple, but so bright. Whenever she used it, my heart would skip a beat and I couldn't help but smile back. Y/N was also very easy on the eyes. She was distracting. Every time she walked into the room, I found myself staring at her a little more than I knew I should, and the fact that she was single was mind blowing.. A woman like her shouldn't be. We became easy friends. The only problem was, Y/N devoted 1000% of her time to her job, never giving herself time to do anything else. Matt tried telling her not too, that he was afraid she might burn herself out, but she refused to listen to him, telling him it was just her nature to stay so busy.

"So, there really is no man for you back home? No one that interests you?" Y/N shakes her head, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. I managed to steal her away from work for the day, taking her out for coffee, which turns out to be hot cocoa instead. We're sitting on a park bench, overlooking the ocean. A soft breeze swings in, blowing the small strands of hair out her face. I look over at her, taking a moment to soak in her delicate features that make her so pretty, and find myself feeling things for her that I probably shouldn't, yet I just can't help myself.

"What about you?" she asks, turning to face me. The soft twinkle I see makes me smile as I huff a small laugh. "Nope. No one. I mean there have been girls that I thought were pretty and nice, but in the end they just turned out to be too shallow or taken. I find it better to just not go looking for something, but instead let that something find me. I'm not in any rush." Y/N chuckles and takes a sip of her hot cocoa. "You mean to tell me all your fame and money doesn't buy you happiness like everyone says it does?" she jokes. I laugh. Laughing with her is so easy. "I'm afraid not. I don't want to be rich anyway. I just want to find my person and grow old with her." Y/N hums in approval. "How did you get to be so wise, Noah," she smiles, playfully. But I sense some seriousness. "Life wasn't always easy for me, you know. I had to learn that falling apart isn't always a bad thing. It taught me how to become someone, that's for sure." Y/N frowned. "We're all someone, are we not?" "No," I shook my head. "I don't think we are. Most people live life in a bubble, locked up in their minds, completely turned off to reality and what's passing in front of them. They spend their whole life looking for the next best thing instead of enjoying the here and now; instead of being present."

"Wow, yeah, I agree with that," she nodded. "You know, you're not like other guys, Noah. You enjoy going slow and sitting still while you come undone and allow life to pick you apart a little. I like that. It's refreshing." Y/N turns and looks at me and I can't help but trail my eyes over her face and wonder what it would be like to kiss her soft, red lips. She's the first girl I've had these sorts of thoughts about in a really long time. "Thank you," I say quietly. "You're welcome," she says, trailing her eyes over my face as well. "Can I ask you a more personal question?" She hesitates at first, but then says okay. "When was the last time you were with a guy?" Her eyes narrow. "Like? Romantically or sexually?" I feel my cheeks redden a little "Both." A small smile creeps over Y/N's lips.

"Um, it's been a while. I'm really backwards and shy and have zero confidence. Having a sexual relationship with strangers is hard for me because of that. And trying to get into a deep, long term relationship never works out because if I'm not willing to sleep with the guy then he loses interest. "Are you serious? Y/N you're beautiful! You should have a lot of confidence." "Yet, I don't," she laughed, turning away from me. “Also, you’re really hot yet you’re single,” she points out with a sly grin and I laugh. “Okay, point taken.” I playfully shove her in the shoulder as we remain quiet for a moment,  processing what we just learned about each other.

"I miss it though," Y/N confesses. "Miss what?" "Skin to skin contact. Not necessarily sexually or anything, but just like hand holding and soft, gentle caresses and touches. Cuddling, gosh I love cuddling," she giggles and it's the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. "Especially when it's cold or raining. Cozying up together and falling asleep, or watching old movies in the dark. Those are the best."

Y/N's description sounds like this thing I read about in one of my weird, self-help books. It's a thing called nap dates and apparently it works when someone is missing the physical touch of another human being, so I mention it to her. "What about nap dates?" She looks at me completely confused, shaking her head. "What are nap dates?" "They're dates that people who are friends or in a platonic relationship have. You hang out with each other, cuddle, watch tv, sleep, you know, boring stuff." "Boring stuff," Y/N laughs, tossing her empty cup in the trash. "Well boring for those who aren't trying to make their relationship go anywhere."

We stand up, and I stretch, working out the kink's in my neck, grimacing in pain. "Are you alright, Noah," she asks, alarmed. "Yeah. I just have this insane knot in my shoulder blade that won't go away. It's been there for days and hurts like hell." "Oh, well sit. I can rub it out for you." I do as she says, making sure she has enough access to my back. The moment she lays her hands on me I feel the instant spark rip through my body. Her touch is electrifying. I can't help but moan and groan over the feeling of the way she works and messages the knot out. It's invigorating. But it's the way she's touching me that has my body all worked up. It's gentle yet confident. Strong yet sweet. And just the thought of never feeling it again sends my mind into a spiral.

"How's that?" I move my arm around feeling immediate relief. "Oh god that feels a million times better. Thank you." Y/N grins. "You're welcome." I take her hand and hold it for a moment, thankful she doesn't pull away. Her eyes are speaking to me, yet I can't read what they're saying. "Noah," "Yeah?" "The idea of nap dates sounds fun." "It does, doesn't it?" "You really want to try it?" "Only if you do," I assure her. "Okay," she grins at me again. "Let's try it. But there's conditions." "Sure," I agree, fighting hard to control my eagerness. "No sex, no kissing. Only cuddling and sleeping." I chuckle. Her conditions seem pretty fair. "Absolutely," I agree." She grins. "Okay, good."

The rain is pouring down outside as Noah and I lay on the couch together, cuddled up under a warm, thick blanket. My leg is wrapped around his and I’m curled into him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I'm engulfed by the scent of him and it makes me lightheaded. The abnormal fluttery feeling in my stomach that always comes around whenever Noah and I are together is hitting me hard in my chest, making my heart race. I'm not sure if it's anxiety or nerves, but it makes me snuggle into him deeper and wrap one arm around his torso. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Are you okay, Y/N," Noah asks softly. I know his eyes are still glued to the tv as his favorite show plays quietly in the background. He has one arm beneath me, holding me so I won't fall off the couch, while his other one is tucked under his head. "Yup I'm fine," I say sleepily, yawning big. "Awe, you tired?" I nod slowly. "Go to sleep. We have nowhere to go or nothing to do," Noah suggests, bringing his hand down on my head and slowly caressing my hair. The warmth of Noah's arms are the very thing I need to help me drift off into a lazy, comfortable nap.

The night belonged to them. Nothing but the stars and the full moon watched them from way up above as they kissed one another. With her on her back, hands wrapped around his tattooed neck and fingers snaking through his newly trimmed brown hair, and him leaning over her, fingers tracing her cheekbones then caressing the side of her face, Y/N and Noah embraced the sensual feelings rushing through their bodies.

Night after night, day after day, their nap dates slowly began to take a different turn; they had developed strong feelings for one another. At first it started with their hands finding each other, fingers intertwining and playfully locking together. Then came the looks and slight smiles whenever they were around each other, the ones they thought they were being so secretive about. Finally, it came boiling over the night a huge storm rolled in with horrible wind, thunder, and lightning, knocking out the power for hours. It scared Y/N, making her cling to Noah as if her life depended upon it. Noah sang to her, held her while she rested her head quietly in his lap as he played with her hair. She fell asleep, only waking when she realized she was being carried to her bed. "Noah, please don't leave. Stay with me.” "Alight, I will," he promised, crawling into the bed next to her. The feeling of her body pressed so tightly against him made resisting the urge to kiss her impossible, but he did it anyway.

At first he thought Y/N would panic, freak out, or get mad at him because of their agreement when they first arranged their nap dates. But Y/N did the opposite. She turned all the way over, facing him and allowed Noah to devour her lips, her mouth, and her body, stopping only when it was about to go too far. "Not yet, not like this," Y/N whispered in the dark. The word "yet" clung to Noah's heart and mind like a magnet. He agreed, kissing her once more.

Now, here they were, tangled up in one another beneath the stars, unable to stop their hungry appetite for the other. "Noah, let's go home," Y/N mumbled against his lips. Noah smiled at her mention of the word "home". "Why? I like kissing you beneath the stars." Y/N giggled. "I know, but I'm not comfortable enough to do this out in the open. I’m sorry. I hate being the way I am sometimes.” Noah stopped kissing her and met her gaze. "I like you just the way you are," he told her, loving the way she smiled at him. He pulled her in and laid a soft kiss on her forehead. "I want to do nothing else but fall into your arms and let you have your way with me. I just can't do it here." Y/N confession had Noah's mind reeling. "You're going to let me have my way with you?" he asked. "If you'll have me," she answered quietly. Noah grabbed her and kissed her, standing up immediately after they parted. "Let's go."

Noah opened the hotel room door for Y/N and she walked in as he flipped the light switch on, locking the door behind him. His tall frame loomed over her small figure that was the picture of perfection against the black backdrop of the room behind her. She stared at him with eyes so intense he thought she could see right through him. And in that moment, Noah wanted nothing more than to just feel her naked body against him.

Leaving just the entry light on, he guided her back into the darkness of the room, thankful that the soft glow of the moonlight and the parking lot lights filled the room with enough light for them to still see one another. Noah ran his hands down her arms, feeling the instant prickle of her skin as he did so, making him shiver, too.

Without a word, he removed his shirt, then his shoes and socks, moving close to help Y/N do the same. Even though he knew she wanted to do this, she still looked alarmed. "When was the last time you were with a guy?" Y/N was quiet for a moment, unsure if she should be truthful or not. But, to do this right, she knew she had to be. "Two years ago." Noah's mouth fell open. "Why? I mean, I don't... " "There was no one worthy enough, that's all. I don't just sleep with anyone for fun, Noah. I have more respect for myself than that," she stated firmly. He closed his mouth quickly "Does this mean I'm worthy enough? Us being here together, alone, about to do the very thing you say you don't give to just anyone?" Y/N smiled up at Noah shyly, raising her arms as he lifted her shirt above her head and tossing it to the floor next to his. "Yes, Noah. You are more than worthy enough. I want to give in to you completely, mind, body, and soul. I just need to be assured that I won't regret it in the end."

He held her face in his hands when he kissed her. Noah didn't ever want her to go away again. It was as if her mouth had suddenly held all the oxygen that kept him alive. Undoing the clip of her bra, Noah gently pulled the straps down and she let it fall, revealing herself to him. He sucked in a slight breath, licking his lips instantly. "I have such a fucking weakness for you, Y/N," Noah confessed, carefully pushing her down on the bed and laying her back. "I have since the moment I saw your face on that video call. I was drawn to you, for reasons I didn't understand." He latched his fingers around the waistband of her leggings and pulled them off, leaving her only in her white cotton panties, which he quickly took off and shoved into the pocket of his joggers. "For safekeeping," he winked at her, making her giggle.

Looking down, Noah stared at the naked body before him on full display. Y/N was beyond beautiful. She was a perfect work of art, something to be worshiped and adored. Lowering his face, Noah trailed slow kisses over her stomach, feeling how it dipped from the way his lips tickled her, making him smile against her skin. Y/N ran her hands through his hair, moaning from the feeling of it running through her fingers as Noah placed kisses all over the front of her body.

From her stomach to her breasts, Noah went slow and steady tasting every single part of her. Wrapping an arm around her waist he arched her back and rolled her hardened nipple with his tongue making the noises coming out of her sound so intoxicatingly sinful. He was obsessed with her, and every touch, every sound made Noah feel more unhinged. He sucked her breast into his mouth as much as he could, nipping at her silky skin while flicking her nipple with his tongue over and over. Pulling back, Y/N cried out in protest of his absence, making him chuckle darkly. Standing to his feet, Noah slipped off his joggers and boxers at the same time, freeing his hard erection. The sight made Y/N shiver with absolute lust, and she couldn't wait to have him between her legs. "Spread your legs for me, Princess, and do as I say, alright," he whispered in her ear. Y/N obeyed, releasing a loud, content sigh over feeling him between her thighs.

"I want you in the worst way, Y/N," Noah confessed, rutting himself lightly against her soaked, throbbing core. She was already a panting mess, ready for whatever happened next. "Your taste, your scent, and I want the feeling of your skin next to mine. I want it all tonight," he whispered, staring her straight in the eye. Y/N swallowed, placing her hand on Noah's cheek. "Then take me, Noah. I'm all yours."

Without another word spoken, he reached down and guided the tip of his hard cock to her entrance and eagerly began taking her at his pleasure. Noah felt like heaven inside her. The sound of her first escaped moan as her body took him in and he spread her open wide was the best music to fuel his passion. He shivered when her nails dug into his back and his head fell into the crook of her neck as he began to pump hard and fast into her tight, wet core. The sheer ecstasy of it all threatened to tear them both apart and shatter them into a thousand pieces.

Noah grabbed Y/N's hips with purpose, aligning himself perfectly so that he could thrust hard and completely down to the very base of all he had to give her. She moaned for him, wrapping her legs tight around him and squeezing with all her might. No longer caring who could hear, Y/N cried out his name, biting his shoulder and pulling him in close to suck the warm, wet skin of his neck, Noah's own breathy moan seemed to accompany her sounds perfectly as his cock filled her entirely and hit the soft spongy spot of her cervix. Nothing could make him weaker than the feeling of her clinging to him and moaning "harder" in his ear as he bottomed out inside her, trying his best to cling to sanity.

"Oh god, you feel so good. Fuck," Noah groaned breathlessly, as he felt her writhe beneath him. "I'm a fucking mess for you, Y/N," he confessed, pounding into her a little harder and clamping his large hand around her thigh, pulling it up higher to get a better angle. She pulled his face into hers, latching her lips to his and feverishly kissing him while tugging on his hair collected between her fingers. "Fuck!" Noah growled," thrusting harder.

"Noah, I'm close," she whimpered. "I know, I can feel you. Goddamn, you're so tight, baby," he groaned. The pad of his middle finger rubbed circles along her clit, pressing down a little harder and making her squirm in delight. The way her back arched off the mattress mixed with her wetness gathering on his fingers, Noah knew she didn't have much longer. His hand took her leg and hiked it up higher against his side so that he could thrust even deeper down within her. The screams of her pleasure, echoing off the walls of the hotel room were pornographic,

"Noah," she cried, running her nails down his back, making him seethe in pain and pleasure. "That's it, cum for me, baby," Noah ordered, moaning as his head fell into her neck once again. Y/N's hands moved up his chest and around his neck and he made a sound deep in his throat that thrilled and frightened her to the point that her trembling walls shattered around his cock and she came as the hot rush of blood pulsed through her veins. Every muscle in her body tightened around Noah as he guided her through her orgasm until he felt himself tightening. He thrusted into her once, twice then pulled out and groaned deeply, spilling his warm release over her stomach

Spent, Noah's head fell against hers, his sweat mixing with her dampness, and he kissed her, long, hard, and still full of so much need. He rolled over and got up, heading for the bathroom Y/N laid there, panting, dazed over what just happened. Never in her life had she experienced sex like that before and now that she had, she only craved it more, but only if it was with Noah. He came back to bed carrying a warm and dry cloth, carefully cleaning up his mess. She watched him through sleepy eyes, sweetly caring for her until she was clean.

Noah tossed the towels to the floor and pulled back the blankets, climbing beneath them, still fully naked. Y/N narrowed her eyes at him as if to question if he was sure and he held up the blanket, motioning for her to come close. She was sleepy so she crawled over to him and snuggled deep under the blanket that Noah tossed over her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into him so that her back was pressed tightly against his chest." You have no idea how much I like you," Noah confessed quietly to her in the dark. "How much you make me smile and how much I love talking to you." Y/N smiled to herself, squeezing his arm in approval. "Yes, I do," she replied. Noah was quiet for a moment. "Then you know how much I wish you were mine." She took a breath and sighed, and because she felt so warm and safe, Y/N closed her eyes. "You have me, Noah. Until the very last star in the galaxy dies, I'm yours."

[mage-ical-character-person]

Yeah… they advertised too close to the sun on this WOTFI it didn’t live up to the promo material at all. But on its own merits it was fun.

Anyway Puzzles is like a combination of Three and Four’s worst traits and that’s a big part of why he’s so appealing to me.

I’ve rambled at length about the parallels but like. It’s Gotta Be Perfect. Four was already doing that before getting possessed. Mar10 day happened before he got possessed. He was only snapped out of it when SMG3 reminded him his friends would always be there for him. And guess what Puzzles doesn’t have?

Puzzles feels like bad ending SMG4 to me in that way. Puzzles on a normal day is equivalent to SMG4 at his absolute worst. That’s what makes him so narrative foils.

and I absolutely do think Four struggles with empathy. Or something along those lines. He gets too stuck in his own head and forgets that his actions affect the people around him. He loves his friends! He’s not great at taking their feelings into consideration and often needs things regarding others’ feelings pretty much spelled out for him. (Which is the root of like 70% of his conflicts with Three, who refuses to just be honest about his feelings until pushed to a breaking point. (See: almost any episode regarding Three’s Cafe, and the end of “Mario’s Spicy Day”))

My guy is oblivious. It was pretty obvious in Trash Friends that Three was not doing well at all and Four was pretty clueless. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, he absolutely does!

Just very little emotional intelligence on the meme man.

Stop that. Four no.

(There’s also “I put Mario in Danger for Views” and stuff. Puzzles is not the only one putting people through dangerous challenges for content. Four’s less extreme about it of course. But still. And “I put Mario in Danger for Views” isn’t the only example of Four doing this but it’s the most obvious)

Puzzles also cares about his “friend(s)” but has zero experience and no moral compass and very little ability to do an empathy so it ends up being unhealthy but like… he does in fact care. So much. It’s just in a VERY twisted sort of way. He’s never done this before, it’s all so new to him and he’s terrified of being alone again…

God. The way he hunches over the screen with Leggy on it. Possessively but almost, almost protectively. So close to cradling it in his self-mutilated hands…

Just… he… <3

And as for Three… SMG3 has Puzzles-redeeming potential because he’s just about the only one who can… meet Puzzles where he is, if that makes sense? As an ex-villain whose villainy was also motivated by a desire for attention/recognition Three can understand what Puzzles is going through and he IS a licensed therapist. He’s very good at it! He got Waluigi to stop causing the apocalypse and do petty theft and stuff instead in only 1 therapy. Puzzles is a more difficult case but I believe in Three!

sooo…

WOTFI

THEY DIDNT ADDRESS ANY OF THE PARALLELS AND THEN THEY

INSTITUTIONALIZED HIM

I’m so mad about this. I’m so mad. I’m so mad.

because okay. Okay remember this.

His super dramatic flinch here and there was that post going around like “I wonder what happened in Mr Puzzles’ childhood to make him flinch like that“

CHILD PUZZLES DOES THE SAME THING

EVERY TIME MEGGY/LEGGY APPROACHES HIM HE FLINCHES. HE COWERS. EVEN OUTSIDE OF THE POTENTIAL CONCLUSION HE WAS BEATEN, SOMEONE GENUINELY CARING ABOUT HIM IS SUCH A FOREIGN CONCEPT THAT HE ASSUMES THE ONLY REASON ANYONE WOULD GET CLOSE IS TO HARM HIM.

AND HE’S NOT EVEN WRONG?! THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS?

THEY INSTITUTIONALIZED HIM HE IS TIED TO A TABLE IN A PADDED ROOM. THEY APPEALED TO HIS HUMANITY AND FOUND THE GOOD IN HIM AND THEY USED IT AGAINST HIM.

YOU THINK THATLL HELP HIM? TARGETING THE MOST VULNERABLE PART OF HIMSELF AND GETTING HIM SENT TO AN ASYLUM?

AND IT SUCKS BECAUSE I WAS LEGITIMATELY ENJOYING THE EPISODE BEFORE THAT! I was having fun until that ending. That’s literally the one thing I didn’t like. The scene with Kid Puzzles was really well done. Everybody’s outfits were so cool. IGBP flesh blobs were there that was really cool

but then

I hate this. Genuinely worse than killing him off to me. It just feels wrong

[gothamite-rambler]

The only one Ivy doesn't hate in the batfamily (minus maybe Barbara)

Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn were in a botany sanctuary as Ivy worked on her latest plan to protect her plant family even if it meant death to humans, minus her girlfriend Harley. Ivy was planning to use the plants for something nefarious that she hadn’t disclosed to her girlfriend yet, but Harley didn’t mind helping her one bit.

Harley (curious): So, we just spray this stuff you made on all of them?

Ivy sprayed her favorite flower with an extra spritz of her concocted spray from a few weeks ago while nodding.

Ivy: Mm-hm, that’s all I need you for, babe. After that, I’ll just say I worked alone.

Harley (simpering): You’d really do that for me?

Ivy: You’re my girlfriend. Of course, I’d take the fall for you.

Harley grinned, her heart swelling with delight. That smile, however, quickly turned to tension as she pointed behind Ivy. Ivy sighed, already guessing who had shown up.

Ivy (not turning around): Hey, Batman.

Batman (disappointed): You were expecting me, and yet you’re still doing this? Why?

Ivy: I’m clinically insane and on a mission to protect Mother Gaia! Sorry I care about the planet!

Batman (angry father voice): We’ve been over this!

Ivy (turning around): Do not talk to me like I am a child! Also, hey, Nightwing!

Nightwing, standing behind Batman, smiled brightly, clearly pleased that Ivy noticed him.

Nightwing (waving): Hi, Pam!

Batman: What? Pam?!

Ivy: That’s my name, but only friends can call me that.

Batman (taken aback): Friends?!

Harley: Aww, that’s sweet.

Nightwing: Yeah, we're frenemies.

Ivy (smirking): Exactly. We have different ideas of being a hero and protecting the planet, but he deserves kindness. Plus, look at that handsome face! Definitely not the face of a douche canoe who stole my best friend and made her a boring good guy. I still think she’s lying about your relationship. You have minute man energy if anything.

Nightwing (raising an eyebrow): Damn, she really doesn't like you.

Ivy (crossing her arms): Hey, Nightwing, if you’re fighting with him to defeat me, you’re free to go—but I understand if you have to do his bidding.

Batman growled angrily but he quickly refocused on the mission at hand.

Nightwing sheepishly avoided eye contact from his father, who was glaring daggers at him.

Nightwing: He… he probably wants me to stay and fight.

Batman sighed in exasperation, frustrated with how well Ivy and Nightwing got along. Nightwing chuckled nervously.

Nightwing: I’m not helping her commit crimes! I just agree with a few points in her mission statement, and if there's a way to help her legally, I will talk to her. She even gave me a pamphlet.

Batman (covering his face): Every day… I feel like I’m living in an endless nightmare with you two!

Ivy (snidely): Batman, flattery will get you nowhere.

Batman (to Ivy): How come he gets to call you Pam?

Ivy: I like him! He’s a good kid!

Nightwing beamed, clearly flattered.

Nightwing: Aww, thank you.

Batman: Oh Lord, Nightwing, sit this one out. You don’t want to get hurt by your “friend” who is evil!

Nightwing: All right! Call me if you need me to jump in or talk to Pam.

Batman (irritated): Stop calling her Pam!

Nightwing (mockingly): Nope, it bothers you, so I'm gonna keep doing it.

Nightwing walked over to where Harley was standing, who waved hello to him with her usual unintentionally terrifying grin. He sidestepped a few feet away, making Harley pout.

Ivy: Good kid. Batman, don’t be pissy—I’m on decent terms with him. He gets me. And no, Batman, I didn’t hit him with my pollen or anything. He’s smart, and I respect him. He gets my mission like Harley does… He’s neat. He’s a neat man.

Nightwing smiled happily at the compliment.

Batman: All right, that’s what I call him! Don’t use that on him!

Ivy chuckled, clapping sarcastically.

Ivy: Aww, did I hurt the Man of Steel's feelings because his sidekick is nice? Guess you can't keep your temper in check!

Batman: That’s Superman! I just… I need a freakin’ minute!

Batman walked away, shaking his head and muttering questions about Nightwing being so close with a villain. The sanctuary suddenly felt a lot more chaotic than ever before.

Nightwing: Oddly enough, you're not the only crook who I'm frenemies with.

Ivy (shrugging): I believe you. A couple of Arkham inmates say they like you.

Harley stepped closer to Nightwing, nodding with a surprisingly normal smile for her.

Nightwing: That's nice! I'm glad that I don’t have Batman energy all the time.

Batman (calling back): Don't say that like it's an insult.

Ivy: It kind of is. You can be a headache ninety-nine percent of the time.

Harley: That one percent means she doesn't completely hate you. That's reserved for the Joker.

Nightwing covered his mouth, chuckling, while Batman kept his distance, counting to ten silently in his head to let go of the fact that Ivy saw him as less grating than the Joker.

Batman: I'm going to accept that as a compliment and focus on the mission.

Ivy: Okay, douche canoe.

Batman (whispering to himself): Not going to let her get to me.

[emeritusemeritus]

Hi!

Can I request a oneshot,where the weasley twins got to a arguement with you, because they were a little extra flirty and their pranks going to far to the point it upset people,then it cause you to ignore them for 5 days straight. Making sure that you didn't bump into them in the hallways,didn't sit with them at (breakfast,lunch,and dinner),if you guys have classes together (since your in the same year) you either group up with someone else,or just simply not looking at them at all. Acting like,you didn't have two boyfriends who were always staring at you, thinking of a plan to get you to atleast look their way.

Then it all just ends with smut,the rest of the story can be anything you want.

THANKIES,LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH!💝😸😍😘

Hi lovely Anon! I hope you are well. Thank you very much for your kind words and for this request, I hope you enjoy! I’m sorry there’s not much smut at the end, I’ve been writing it pretty much for two days straight so it’s more an a non-graphic, implied kind of smut! 🖤

Warnings: a bit of angst, a bit of smut. Non graphic smut, implied sexual references. The twins being unapologetically themselves. Pranks, injury, minor genital injury, no blood.

Word count: 2.9k

Actions and Consequences

It had been five days since you'd last spoken to your boyfriends after that night in the common room. You were done with their stupid antics. For too long now you'd come second place to their inventions; you could deal with the long hours spent working on their creations, the aftermath of them testing their products on themselves and the amount of time spent grifting for sales but what you absolutely wouldn't deal with was them completely ignoring you for the sake of their 'customers'. Not to mention their completely lack of morality or remorse for anyone even as people suffer and endure the consequences of their stupid pranks. Or their complete blindness to real life consequences which had really bitten them in the arse lately... not that it seemed to make a blind bit of difference.

It may have all been funny once, but this time they'd gone too far.

You'd spent your time in the library, walking the grounds, helping out Hagrid and hanging out with your other friends, finding that without the twins' constant disruptions you were so much more productive. You actually had free time again, had gotten ahead of your school work and were completely up to date with your homework. Besides the crippling heartache, you were doing okay. Or maybe you weren't, but you wouldn't allow yourself to give them the satisfaction of knowing how deeply you were pining for them, or give them even a slight clue that they occupied your mind almost 24/7.

You'd ignored every one of their attempts to communicate, wanting them to feel exactly as you had when your wants and needs had been ignored. You knew it was petty but you just couldn't be around them right now, too hurt to carry on as you were. Fred had tried first, tried to bulldoze his way through your emotional boundaries under the guise of yet another joke or prank, another chance to break the rules. He'd learnt very quickly that this method did not and would not work, throwing him off completely. George had been slightly more sensitive in his approach but had still missed the mark entirely. Neither of them had apologised, not to you and not to Neville who had been caught in the crossfire of their invention testing. They'd even sent Hermiome over to try and 'talk some sense into you' but you'd quickly shut down her feeble attempt at being an unwitting participant and had instead diverted the conversation to S.P.E.W, which had earned you an hour long lecture on Elf rights, but at least the topic of the twins was quickly forgotten.

Any further attempt to reach out to you fell on deaf ears and was met with a neutral yet disappointed expression and absolutely no enthusiasm. You'd taken to eating with Katie and your other friends, trying not to spend any time in a place where the twins would be able to find you.

Their gazes upon you were constant, their eyes almost more persistent than their words. You could feel the heat from their stares on you morning and night, in the great hall, in classes, the common room. Sometimes you just felt like you were being watched constantly, though of course you weren't.

But you couldn't deny that your days had become infinitely more boring since you had been ignoring your boyfriends and trying to teach them some consequences. Boring but peaceful, you kept reminding yourself as you felt your stubbornness starting to slip. You missed them badly by the fifth day but reasoned that they had a lesson to learn even if it made you suffer in the process. You'd walked into your dorm after classes to find some fizzing whizbees placed on your bed that you knew would be from the twins. It made your heart pang for a moment as you looked upon the gift, knowing that they were your absolute favourite chocolate and that the twins didn't have any money so they must have begged borrowed and stolen for this. But then you remembered why they didn't have any money, bloody Ludo Bagman. With regret and a growling protesting stomach, you'd given Ginny the Whizbees, telling them to give them back to her brothers, though you knew that it was a step too far for your broken heart.

"What's it going to take?" Ginny asks, looking up at you from her bed as you hand her the delicious treats.

"An apology," you reply.

-♡-

"I have an announcement. Oi gits, put down your knitting and listen here!" Fred suddenly shouts from the centre of the common room, immediately grabbing everyone's attention. It's Friday night and everyone had been sat around the common room after dinner, branching off into different activities. You hadn't seen the twins since dinner and figured they were off somewhere causing mayhem, thinking no more of it. Dean reaches out and turns down the radio as the buzz of talking and laughter fades quickly, everyone falling silent as they look towards Fred. You heave out a sigh, really not wanting to give him anymore attention and so you didn't look up to him, choosing instead to keep your eyes on your book.

"I Fred Gideon Weasley, would like to formally apologise for my behaviour and careless actions the other night, well since birth actually," he says as he stands on top of one of the high tables near the stairs, as if he even needed the extra height to tower over everyone. Truthfully, you'd stopped reading the minute he's started talking, only feigning interest in the pages so that you wouldn't have to look at the stupidly handsome man. You could see the faint outline of him in your peripheral vision and it was enough.

"And I George Fabian Weasley would like to mirror that apology," you hear George say, pulling your attention even further, but you still don't look up. "And extend my greatest apologies to Neville Longbottom who unwillingly consumed one of our canary creams last week, turning him into a great big yellow bird. We're sorry we didn't warn you."

"Or know that you were terrified of birds," Fred adds, but you can almost hear the smirk that he's wearing.

"But to our girl," Fred adds, your heart pounding. "We want to apologise to our beautiful girl y/n y/n."

"Our long suffering girlfriend," George adds.

You look up now, completely forgetting the book in your lap as your eyes meet George's and then Fred's. They don't look remorseful per se, but you knew when they were being genuine. Your heart constricts, feeling suddenly awkward that they are doing this in public.

"We're sorry Angel, never meant to upset you or ignore you and this is our public apology to you."

"Of course we'll apologise later in private," Fred says with a smirk, earning a feel whoops and cheers from the crowd at the suggestion and you feel your cheeks heat up at the insinuation. He chuckles finding your wide eyes and flushed face in the crowd before continuing. "We never meant to embarrass anyone, even old Neville, no offence Neville." You watch as Neville raises his hand slightly in response to Fred, having been called out personally.

"So, in an attempt to show you that we are clearly reformed men who want nothing more than their future wife to forgive them, we're giving our sweet girl the chance to embarrass us, right here, in front of everyone."

You frown, thoroughly confused by their words.

"Ronald, be a dear," Fred calls out to his younger brother sat closest to you, gesturing for him to bring you up to them. He flushes bright pink, the smile slipping from his face at the audience participation section and you make it easy on him, placing your hand on his shoulder as you walk past towards the twins, your book long forgotten.

"A round of applause for our beautiful girl!" Fred says with a menacing grin, waving his arms frantically as the common room erupts with a loud roar of applause, making you want to run and hide.

"Now princess, you can do."

"Anything at all," George adds.

"To embarrass us," they say together.

"As justice for our professional negligence."

You don't have time to think of your options nor react as a deafening crack echoes around the common room as it falls silent, each person waiting in anticipation for what was going to happen. The twins shoot each other identical looks of shock and horror as the loud creak turns into a brief snapping noise, followed instantly by them tumbling to the ground with an almighty thud as the table beneath them splinters and collapses under their feet. You rush forward towards them, careful to avoid the masses of falling books, ornaments and the many many pieces of wood that had splintered around.

George appears first, completely unharmed and unfazed with a wicked smile on his face. The common room erupts in laughter and cheers but dies down slightly when you reach Fred who is doubled over, clutching his groin.

Apparently he'd landed awkwardly and had somehow managed to injure himself in the process, catching the 'family jewels' on the way down.

He stands slowly with your help, keeping a firm hold of your hand as he raises one arm, still slightly hunched over, forcing a smile onto his face as the common room cheers again. People begin to disperse after that, the show over and not wanting to be part of the cleanup. You wave your wand and begin to tidy the mess, hermione and Ginny helping levitate larger pieces and ornaments off to one side for now as Harry lifts the shell of the bookcase and flings it into the corner.

"Don't think you'll be apologising in the way you wanted Weasley," Seamus says as he walks past, a cheeky grin on his face as he wiggles his eyes at Fred.

"Shove off Finnegan," Fred shoots back, though his voice is still strained. "Git."

"Well I still can," George smirks, throwing his arm around your shoulder and giving you a smile, winking in your direction.

"Come to our dorm?" He asks into your ear, earning a little nod from you in conformation.

"Think you can make it big boy?" You ask Fred, seeing his face still scrunched up. He looks up towards you and squints in a mock glare, not caring for your apparent lack of sympathy.

"We are sorry Angel, we went too far," George says as he pulls you into his arms. You don't resist, more than happy by their attempts of apology. "We didn't really think about it and we'll try better next time. We promise that we'll never ignore you or put you second again, you're everything to us."

"I think it's been ripped off," Fred murmurs from behind you, still clutching his groin as he walks slowly into the dorm, closing the door with a flick of his wand.

Ignoring his twin completely, George smiles down at you, hand reaching up for your chin to keep your attention on him.

"Can we still call you our girl?"

You smile back up at him and nod, feeling better in his arms than you had all week.

"Don't go missing on us again," he says, "you're ours remember." He leans down to kiss you, hands simultaneously wandering and holding you tightly to his body.

"I'm never going to get hard again. It's done for, I'm ruined for life."

You realised almost as soon as their next big idea struck that long term consequences were just not a consideration for George and Fred, though this time you were neither angry nor upset. You'd realised somewhere along the way that the last thing the twins needed was someone else picking them apart, playing on their faults and trying to teach them a lesson of conformity. What they really needed was understanding and support of their future business and an occasional redirection for their more wild attempts. Though of course the main lesson had been learnt and then did now consider how their pranks and stunts would affect someone else, which was a big step (Ron didn't count in that agreement apparently).

So when the twins were mercilessly flung back from the Triwizard cup, landing on the stone floor with a great thud and immediately began spouting big white bushy beards, hair and eyebrows, you laughed along with everyone else. You were doubled over with laughter as they rolled on the floor squabbling about the consequences of the ageing potion and whose fault it was, knowing yourself that they were equally as guilty. They laughed along with the crowd who were in hysterics and when Fred caught your eye, seeing you with tears of laughter streaming down your face, he only laughed harder.

"Well, What do you think?" Fred smirks, running his hand through his white beard that could rival Dumbledore. Your vision was blurry with your tears of laughter, only made worse when he gets close to you, the ridiculousness of his appearance even more absurd up-close.

"I think you're an idiot," you say with a smile, holding back a wheeze.

"Come on baby, you're telling me this does nothing for you?" He says, trying to reach out for you and wiggling his ridiculous eyebrows at you suggestively.

"Not unless you're holding a sack and giving out presents... don't!"

He bursts with fresh laughter at your words, followed by another boom of laughter when George comes up behind you and attempts to kiss your cheek, the white bushy beard feeling awful against your cheek. You squirm out of their holds, completely disgusted at the thought of kissing them whilst they looked like that.

"I'm hurt, injured, I'll never recover, my girl swerving from my kisses!" George says dramatically, raising his hand to his forehead as if he's ready to faint from the hurt. You simply roll your eyes with a smirk on your face.

"Turn back ginger and you can have all the kisses you want," you say towards George who is still trying to cuddle up behind you despite your mocking attempts to bat him away. He chuckles in your ear and suddenly reaches out to press a wet, sloppy kiss to your cheek before running away with a boyish laugh. You grimace playfully, wiping the spit away from your cheek as you attempt to recover from the feel of his beard ghosting your skin.

"But it's like a view into the future," Fred adds, gesturing as his white hair.

"Then I want to break up."

"Can I at least keep the beard?"

"Madame Pomfrey now... then come find me later," you say suggestively, reaching and stroking his tie, making his eyes widen in excitement.

Immediately he runs off towards his twin, finding it easier than ever to spot him amongst the crowd as you try and locate someone else amongst the crowd.

"Boys!" You shout, earning their attention straight away as they pause, turning to you with curious looks on their faces just as they are about to exit the hall.

There's a blinding flash and they squint at the sudden brightness as you thank the boy beside you, gratefully accepting the Polaroid that Colin had snapped for you. Your laugh echoes around the hall as the moving picture develops, seeing their surprised faces, wide eyes and wild beards captured eternally on the film.

"One for the wedding album," you smirk, shooting them a wink as you place the photo in the pocket of your robes, still laughing as you walk away.

-♡-

"You know, I really like your hair long like this," you say to George later on that night in the privacy of their dormitory. Lee had been unceremoniously shipped off the second the twins had arrived back from the hospital wing looking 100 years younger and back to their gorgeous ginger selves.

"Why's that baby?" George mumbles as he kisses the skin of your thighs, adding to the fire that threatened to consume you. You smirked, reaching out for his soft shaggy hair, running your fingers through the long beautiful strands of fire red hair before giving a gentle tug as you move him closer to your weeping core.

"Better for steering," you smirk, biting your lip as you give him your most seductive smile. You're instantly rewarded with a chuckle from the very naked twin behind you and secondly with a deliciously arousing swipe of George's tongue through your folds, the tip of his tongue deliberately catches your aching clit making you gasp out his name and throw your head back onto Fred's shoulder behind you.

"So you don't like older men then princess?" Fred teases as his hands reach out to cup your heaving breasts, his thumbs gliding over your hardened nipples at the very same time that George's lips suck on your clit perfectly.

"Just you two," you manage to gasp out as your hips rise for George, keeping your fingers firmly embedded within his hair, thinking of how incredibly lucky you were to be in this opposition, dealing with the consequences of your actions.

[gabseyoo]

HELLO, STRANGER — HAITANI RINDŌ

content: kanto manji!rindou, female reader, smoking (or trying to), strangers to ?, both of them are young, family drama, insta love (?), a lot of dialogue, kinda proof read. wc: 2,4k.

note: i missed rindou soooooo much and i had this in my drafts for so long. hope that the rindou girlies who are still standing (like me) like this <3

“You don’t know how to smoke, do you?”

Hearing a male voice out of nowhere made you jump with alarm, causing you to throw the lighter from your hand to the ground and almost do the same with the cigarette you had between your lips. 

Your heartbeat was racing, it couldn’t be good that someone was talking to you out of the blue while you were sitting alone on a sidewalk at ten o’clock at night in a neighborhood you were unfamiliar with. 

You did a quick scan of your surroundings, a little relieved to notice that it wasn’t a completely lonely area, the convenience store where you just bought these cigarettes was a few meters ahead, illuminating the place along with the streetlamps, also, there were people walking their dogs and others in suits that maybe were returning home from their jobs.

Okay. You’re kind of safe, and if not, at least someone will hear you if you scream. 

A little more relaxed (though still wary), you took the cigarette out of your mouth before turning back to see the owner of that voice. 

It was a guy. Maybe your age, maybe a few years older, who knows. He was blond, and thanks to the streetlights you noticed that he had blue locks, he also wore glasses and was dressed completely in black. 

Well, he’s cute… BUT, you didn’t like the teasing way he was looking at you. As if you were a joke. That’s why you responded with a sharp, “I do know.”

Just to prove your point, you put the cigarette back in your mouth, and just as you were about to reach down to pick up the lighter that had fallen beside your feet, the guy beat you to it, taking it in his hand with a chuckle.

“I see…” He said, fiddling with the lighter in his hand before giving it a final glance and handing it to you. “So you smoke cigarettes backwards? First time I’ve seen that.”

The blush was quick to appear on your cheeks as you pulled the stick out of your mouth to look at it, realizing that was the stupid reason why you couldn’t light it. Shit. Will the earth be able to suck you in right now? 

But, even when that would be a great favor, you were a girl with pride, so you wouldn’t let this guy notice how embarrassed you were. Without looking at him, you rolled your eyes and brought the cigarette back to your mouth (now the right way), and tried to light it again. 

Key word, tried. Because you failed in the attempt, again.

“You want me to turn that on for you too?” You heard him say it, which made your blood start to boil. 

“I know what I’m doing.” You replied dryly, determined to light the cigarette, but now your enemy seemed to be the lighter that simply did not want to work. Did the universe have something against you at this moment? Or what the fuck is going on? You haven’t stopped embarrassing yourself in the presence of this guy. 

“I can clearly see that you don’t.”

“Can you just go away?” You blurted, angrily tossing the cigarette along with the lighter to the ground before bringing your hands to your head in frustration. 

“And let a lady alone in the middle of the night in a neighborhood where someone can hurt her? Nah.”

You rolled your eyes again. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.” 

“I know.” He said as he sat down next to you and you turned your knees to the other side so you didn’t have to make physical contact with him, he just snorted and spread his legs anyway. 

“You’re not from around. Can I ask why are you here?” He asked, leaning his arms on his legs. 

“I am from around.” You said, somewhat mimicking his posture.

“You’re not. I think I’d remember a face like yours.” What was that supposed to mean? But before you could ask, he was quick to speak again. “You ran away from home, don’t you?”

For some reason, the question made you feel sick to your stomach. Why was this boy so nosy, in fact, why hadn’t you gotten up and left already? Is it because, even though his meddling irritates you, you didn’t sense any bad intentions from him?

“You just love to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, don’t you?” You said, looking at him with narrowed eyes. 

“You’re starting to know me.” The boy said with a smirk, winking, an action you would never admit out loud that you found attractive. “So, did I get it right? Did you run away from home?”

“No!” You exclaimed, perhaps more loudly than you had planned. “What makes you think that?”

The boy let out an incredulous chuckle, looking straight ahead before looking back at you and starting to count with his fingers, “Let me list. One, you’re in a neighborhood you’re not from. Two, you’re trying to smoke and you don’t even know how. Three, I saw you reject your mother’s call like three times in a row.” 

As if it was another joke of fate, at that moment your phone started ringing, the name Mom appearing on the screen, without thinking twice, you rejected it.  

“Four now.” He said as he stretched his legs out on the pavement, leaning his arms at his sides.  “Wanna vent about it? I’m a good listener.”

Even when his offer sounded tempting and somehow you thought it was nice of him, you couldn’t help but snort and say, “I don’t even know you.”

Despite the bitterness in your voice, he didn’t shy away, on the contrary, he smiled sideways before saying, “That’s better. I won’t judge if you’re worried about that.” He shrugged, “Sometimes venting to a stranger it’s better than with someone you know. You can tell me all the embarrassing shit you want and probably never see me again, take it as a way to protect yourself.”

That sounded just as stupid as it made sense. Somehow, this handsome, annoying stranger was right. All you wanted right now was to vent, and unfortunately you didn’t have friends close enough to listen and understand you; and while the latter wasn’t completely warranted with this guy, the former certainly was. 

“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll listen.”

You wanted to laugh at yourself. Were you really considering taking it out on a stranger? 

The answer was yes. 

“I had a fight with my mom.” 

He was silent for a few seconds, perhaps waiting for you to continue on your own, but when he noticed that you wouldn't, he asked, “Why?”

You took a deep breath, searching internally for the right words to express yourself.

“She’s so… controlling.” You started, and before you knew it, you were taking everything out. “She’s just crazy. She wants me to be perfect, like, unbelievable perfect. On the outside and on the inside. Obviously under her standards of what it means to be perfect. Which means, perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect nails, impeccable clothes, extraordinary grades, being the best in any extracurricular activity you can think of to get me into. And it’s too tiring, because no matter how hard I try, it never seems to be enough. She’s never happy with anything I do, none of my accomplishments please her.”

Tears of frustration began to gather in your eyes before you knew it, but at that moment you didn’t care. 

“Today I had a bad day. I didn’t sleep at all last night because I stayed up studying for my exam, I got in a fight with my friend for some stupid reason I don’t remember, I didn’t eat because I had to stay for an extra credit activity, my ballet teacher scolded me because my pirouette was not perfect and made me repeat it a thousand times. I was too tired, so I decided to skip piano class, but I knew I couldn’t get home before 8 because I knew my mom would find out I skipped class, so I went to the library to take a nap. But when I got home, my piano instructor had already called my mom telling her that I didn’t attend the lesson.” You wiped with your hand the tears that ran down your cheeks uncontrollably. “My mom was angry, she started questioning me if I was doing bad things, like smoking or drinking and things like that. She didn’t believe me when I told her I had gone to sleep in the library.”  

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down at this point in the story. The stranger was too quiet, he had not even moved from his position. Was he still listening? But whether he was listening or lost in thought didn’t matter to you at all, all you wanted was to get your frustrations out. 

“I don’t know how, but I started to tell her to leave me alone. She clearly didn’t like that and told me I was an ungrateful brat. And I was at my limit… So I ran away from home, took a random train just thinking that I wanted to be far away from her, and ended up here in Roppongi talking to a stranger about my family life because I have no one else to talk to.” You said sarcastically, gesturing with your hands around you. Your eyes went to the cigarette and lighter lying on the floor, and an unfunny laugh escaped from your mouth. “I was walking around, thinking how my mom would hate that I was in this area of town alone, then I started to remember more things she hates, besides how tired of being perfect I am— I got angrier and thought, what would make my mom totally lose her mind? That’s when I decided to enter the convenience store to buy the cigarettes.”

At this point, you felt you talked too much. How much time had passed? Wasn’t the stranger annoyed at having to listen to you? 

From overthinking, you didn’t realize that you had been silent for who knows how long until the boy spoke, “I believe she hates smoking?”

“Like hell. She thinks it’s one of the most repulsive acts in the world, besides biting your nails.”

“I think you could have gone for nail biting instead of smoking, if you wanted to piss her off.” 

You chuckled, “Yeah, I know.”

Finally after a few minutes, you had the courage to look at the stranger with whom you were surprisingly more comfortable than with people you had known for years; he was already looking at you when you looked back, so the eye contact was immediate, you noticed he had lilac eyes. Pretty.

He held your gaze for a few more seconds before sighing and looking straight ahead again, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Damn, I guess it’s too late to say that I’m a good listener, but not good with words.” 

For some reason, his comment made you laugh. Like, a really genuine laugh in which he joined in the middle. 

“Okay, okay, let me try.” He said with a chuckle as your laughter began to cease. You watched him attentively as he settled back into place, now sitting with his body toward you, ignoring how your knees made slight contact. 

“Look, I don’t know you, or your mom, and while it seems like she only wants the best for you, maybe the way she expresses it and executes it is not the best. And I understand that having that kind of pressure always on you to be perfect can be very tiring. I just want to ask, don’t you have friends or someone that you can genuinely be you and not the perfect daughter?”

“No.” You mumbled, biting your lip. “My circle of friends all see each other as competition. I have no siblings, or close cousins, and of course no boyfriend, no boy is good enough for me, according to mom. And I... I just feel lonely all the time.” Your last words came out almost in a whisper.

You both remained silent for who knows how long, it wasn’t uncomfortable, for some reason it felt comforting. Just your breaths with the sounds of the night in the background, some birds, some cars, some voices. All together made the moment feel almost intimate. 

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he watched you. “But you know—” He began after a moment, his voice gentle, “Being lonely doesn’t have to mean being alone. Sometimes it’s about finding someone, anyone, who will just... listen.” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Look, I know I don’t know you, and this may sound weird as fuck, but maybe I can be that person for now. I mean, I might not know you, or everything you’re going through, but I can listen if that helps. Even if it’s just talking about little things that make you laugh or what makes you sad. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself, you know?"

The warmth in his eyes reflected an understanding that was rare, a feeling that wasn’t just sympathy but a real offer of connection. And in that moment, you felt something shift inside you—a small glimmer of hope that, maybe, there were people out there who genuinely wanted to be there for you, without the need for perfection.

Finding no better words to say, from your lips simply came a, “It’s okay.”

The boy smiled sideways, and you noticed that his muscles relaxed, maybe he was nervous that his words would scare you, but it was the opposite. 

“Do you like ramen?” He asked, all of a sudden. 

“Who doesn’t?”

“I guess you haven’t had dinner, and I know a good ramen place around here, if you want, we can go.”

You smiled sideways at the invitation, inevitably feeling happy that this strange encounter would not end soon. 

“Well, I think my mom will kill me anyway no matter what time I get back, so let’s go.” You said, standing up. The boy let out a chuckle and imitated your action, standing in front of you. 

“I just got that we didn’t introduce ourselves.” You said with a smile, stretching out your hand to him. “I’m Y/n.” 

The stranger took it in his, slowly, his hands were cold but still, it was the warmest handshake you’ve ever had. 

“I’m Rindou.”

[meo-eiru]

oooHHH- Meru, my dear, I was going to wait until I had time to draw something before talking about it since I normally do that. But you guys have been talking about it so l can't hold back anymore.

Spoilers ahead for anyone who hasn’t played the game~

(And talk about dark themes. 🫶✨)

Inserting my live reaction here to keep others from accidentally looking at spoilers like I do sometimes:

SO!!!

Based on what I saw in the game, yeah. Starling definitely loved Maelyn. Or at least felt an affection for her. An approximation of those feelings for her. Ultimately, Starling isn’t a human and doesn’t seem to operate quite the way that we would emotionally or mentally (wow that sounds so BAD I SWEAR I DIDN’T MEAN IT IN A BAD WAY-).

Like you said, Starling goes out of his way to dress Maelyn up and even remembers what she said about the “collar” in order to keep her while making sure it isn’t hurting her.

The whole thing didn’t feel malicious, really. Even the drowning. It just felt like he didn’t really understand the consequences of that one action. I hesitate to make the comparison, but Starling kinda feels childlike somehow. I don’t mean this in a way to infantilize the character at all, I swear. It’s just the way he reacts to things. Very dangerous baby with big pointy claws and teeth, lololol.

And you’re definitely right about him being able to make you forget that he’s very capable of violence. Because even when he does things that could be considered violent, it’s in such a way that it doesn’t come off as such. I feel that this aspect of him was reflected pretty well in the game as it is from Maelyn’s perspective and she kinda just goes “well there goes my fingers oh well-��� It was to the point that I was like “wait wait wait rewind and lemme move my bang so I can read that again- her FINGERS??? JUST??? GONE??? LIKE THAT???” But, then again, you could argue that it was partially because of her mental state as well. And I think the whole almost childlike feeling I got from Starling only plays into this whole thing about him feeling almost safe at times even with his glaringly obvious “otherness”.

It doesn’t help that he was so amicable for the most part. But that was likely because he was getting everything he wanted up until Maelyn said she would only come back after four days.

Onto a few other things… This game reminded me of things about myself that I forgot about for a while LOLOLOL-

It was funny because. I got the marriage ending first. But while playing the first time and getting to the part where we first see him open himself up… I was like “what if I just crawled in there- no I shouldn’t think that,,,” THEN LOW AND BEHOLD. WHEN I GOT THE OTHER ENDING- 😂😭

Great minds think alike. ✨

His ribcage the perfect cradle and his heart singing the best of lullabies… Or it would have been were it still beating-/j

SJDJDJ-

Honestly, when I got that ending I was like nOOOOO STARLING- WHAT HAPPENED??? I still don’t think I quite get how it happened.

Also hmMMMMmmmm let’s not talk about how my first thought when he opened himself up that one time and reacts when we touch (I chose to give in to my impulses) was to be like, “What if I… licked…? Insi-“

LOLLL-

Listen one reason I liked Beastars was because of the theming around the inherent connection between… eating (canniba-//shot) and intimacy- Like… yeah… Two carnal needs/instincts… ANYWAYS-

I love how the game turned out! You guys did great! So a belated congratulations for finishing the development and releasing it!!! 🎉✨

And of course amazing artwork as always, Meru~

Will draw something in celebration of it later when I have time. And just because I wish to draw the funny tongue-fish man. 🫶💫

Will probably also yap about this more later.

Another amazing ask I'm sure @celerifleuri will love as well

This is such a good analyses honestly, and yes you are right, Starling is quite childish. It's not that he has the mind or mental capacity of a child but it's in a bit of a "pure" state if you will. It really makes me want to talk about his backstory but that's why we are making bonus episodes.

Maelyn as a character definitely effects our perception of the events as well. Honestly if that happened to my fingers I'd pass out right then and there.

It's so funny how you mind aligned with Maelyn's, I'm sure she would love to try licking his insides (he did kiss his heart)

I'm glad you liked the art!!! And for the drawing, I can't wait to see what you'll come up with :D Good luck with all his tongues

[phantomchick]

The ending of Oshi no Ko vs The beginning (chapter 166 vs 10)

So as you can see, there's clear evidence of intentional parallels happening here. This is the aftermath of Ai's death that mirrors the aftermath of Aqua's. Aka already claimed to have the ending planned well in advance months ago so it's not a big surprise that even the ending panels of the first (not counting the prologue) and last chapters match.

And yet Oshi no Ko still falls flat despite fulfilling its promise of a revenge-tragedy.

I think the biggest problem it has is the way the last chapter tells us instead of shows us as chapter 10 did.

Yes chapter 10 also used narrative text boxes a lot, but I argue that the effect then was much more immersive.

With them being used with precision to move us through a time skip with only the most necessary information about the fall out for the characters, even the distance had the effect of doing characterisation work with Aqua describing in a narrative text box how the policemen hid the scene from Ruby but Aqua felt his mother's body going cold beneath him as they arrived - this use of the text boxes casual tone over child Aqua sitting in his dead mother's lap gave a sense of disassociation and shock to the scene.

Even the textboxes turning black to mirror Aqua's dark emotions concerning his revenge as the star in his eye turned black showed how much attention was being paid to their use.

Ruby.

Ruby felt much more real in chapter 10, her rant about the internet's callous response to Ai's murder felt real and emotionally charged. In comparison, for all she's the main subject of the last chapter, she feels like a 2d cut out of herself, barely in there for all we see her struggling through Akane's observant gaze.

She expresses her motivation to be an idol despite hardship by acknowledging that Aqua's right about idolwork being difficult and cruel but reminding him that despite the darkside of the entertainment industry, their mother 'shone' very brightly. The talk about how Ruby shines more the darker things get and how this is a good thing because it reaches out to people trapped in darkness of their own (just like her when she was a terminally ill cancer patient) is clearly meant to echo this idea.

Frankly it fails.

Ruby feels hollow.

To the point where we barely get any insight into Ruby's real feelings at all or any emotional connection with her in comparison, by 166 it's genuinely unclear whether or not she's lying even to the portrait of her dead family when she's 'alone' on her way out the door.

We don't see a conversation between her and her adoptive mother about Aqua, we don't see her talking to Akane at all. We see her grief and her success from a deified distance, just like the fans do. And it alienates us from the character.

Lies are love and she has two stars in her eyes. Just like her mother did.

I think this more than anything condemns the idol industry, she has to keep lying even to herself about her job being fun because otherwise what was all that pain and suffering and loss for?

Aqua died in a murder-suicide (shout out to Taiki for experiencing a loved one doing this twice, poor guy) to give his little sister success in a job that she has to get up at 5.30 for, devote her entire youth to and will have to quit in less than a decade. It has to matter, that she provides escapism for people who are suffering like she did, but it doesn't change the grim reality of her exploitation.

I think the lack of dialogue in the final chapter and the loss of voice for Ruby in the last few arcs mirrors the loss of agency she experiences as she becomes the ultimate idol, everyone's star.

But that doesn't change the fact that from a reader perspective it's just bad writing. Aka failed to carry his audience with him to the finish line and his messages about the idol industry were blurred by the rushed plot after the movie arc began.

If it weren't for Mengo's art hard carrying the clumsily executed story, I can honestly say that I don't think many would have read this manga all the way to the end.