#but then as i read further i finally realised that their relationship is actually of a different kind and oopsieee that was weird

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. staying at your boyfriend’s house for the first time is nerve wracking. though luckily satoru understands your situation all too well.

wc. around 870

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive implications. reader is implied to be a virgin + has no experience dating. satoru being a gentleman hehe. nicknames used ‘sugar, sweetheart’. not beta read.

“are you sure?” you ask your lover who’s making himself comfortable on the couch. satoru sits down and gives you a reassuring smile. he adjusts the blue blanket he’s covering himself with before responding.

“mhm. a hundred percent,” he nods and reaches for your hand. his thumb brushes over your knuckles in a soothing manner. his blue eyes glow with the purest form of love—pure unadulterated love for you.

it’s your first time staying over at your boyfriend’s. it’s nerve wracking for some reason. maybe because you have all kinds of ideas running through your head about how your night could possibly go.

the thought about possible intimacy is scary, because you’re not sure if you’re actually prepared. you had set your mind to it on your way to his house; you will be ready if satoru asks to take things further. for his sake. .

but, when the time had come, nothing happened. you expected at least something to happen. he’s kissed you as per usual, however more than that has not occurred. perhaps it’s your own fault for trying to predict what will happen.

though how can you not? you assumed that if a boyfriend and girlfriend spend the night together, they’ll surely do something more. at least you think that’s what happens most of the time. with other couples that is.

you should’ve known by now that satoru doesn’t compare to other men. especially not to the college boys your age—who only want to hit and move on. satoru is serious about your relationship. committed.

“what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, sugar?” satoru’s smooth voice interrupts your thoughts. you clear your throat and shake your head, dismissing your own tendencies to overthink every little thing.

his big hands cover both of yours completely. they’re warm. nice to hold. the older man lifts your hands up to his lips and kisses your palms. you sigh and finally relax after what feels like hours, “nothing, ‘toru.”

nothing, you say. little did you know that satoru has long noticed what’s wrong. you’re easy to read—your body language reveals every little thing you’re feeling.

you subconsciously had your fists clenched at your sides the second you stepped into his apartment. you’ve been avoiding eye contact more than usual and you keep nibbling on your bottom lip. those were all the signs he needed.

satoru knows you well enough to realise that you’re overly nervous. he understands why. it’s your first time staying overnight at a man’s house—your boyfriend’s house.

satoru’s sure you’re thinking that he’ll ask you to sleep with him. it’s obvious. each time he kisses you, you tense up. you normally get flustered, though today you’re more than just nervous.

he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable. he doesn’t want you to think that he’ll do anything you’re not ready for. the last thing satoru would do is take advantage of this precious moment. of his precious girl.

it’s also why he suggested to sleep on the couch. he figured that you’ll be less nervous if you have the bed to yourself. all he wants is for you to relax around him.

“may i?” satoru whispers. his warm breath caresses your hands and you instantly give your consent to whatever he wishes to do. the older man thanks you quietly before putting his forehead against yours.

you look into each other’s eyes and you’re once again stunned by the beauty of his blue orbs. satoru brushes his knuckles over your cheek, adoring just how adorable you look from up close, “it’s okay, yeah? i won’t ask you to do anything. i promise.”

you blink. it’s only then that the realisation dawns upon you. no wonder satoru has immediately noticed your nervous demeanour. he’s always so perceptive of how you feel. it’s quite heartwarming.

those comforting words are all you need. you smile brightly and hug satoru out of reflex. you hear a giggle escape his lips before he returns the gesture. his strong arms wrap around your form and he squeezes you to his chest.

“aww, there’s my baby,” satoru coos. he’s happy that he’s finally succeeded at calming you down. he’s also happy that he got your usual self back. he tenderly kisses the top of your head.

you lift your head up to get some air. satoru’s tight embrace and familiar scent nearly suffocated you—not that you would mind going out like that. you kiss his cheek, “thank you for being so. . err, patient and understanding.”

your boyfriend shakes his head with a soft smile playing across his lips. satoru leaves a trail of ticklish pecks down your face until he reaches your lips. after waiting for your usual sign - a faint nod - he captures them in a gentle kiss.

he pulls away after a few seconds, though stays close to your face. you’re filled with an incredible feeling of warmth because of satoru’s obvious adoration for you. pure content.

he lets out a breathy laugh at your cute, flustered expression. he pulls you in for a hug again and presses your head against his chest, “heh, no, i should thank you for trusting me. i love you s’much.”

[ursemma]

So long, London. -LN4

Ꮚ Lando Norris × fem!reader.

Summary: Dating F1 driver isn't really easy, especially when you are blue.

(loosely based on some real life events.)

Warnings: angst

Let me know what you want to read next.

You should've known this was going to happen. You and Lando, were polar opposites of eachother in every aspect of life. From upbringing, to personality, likes, dislikes, name one thing, and you'll have different opinions. But that's not the thing that tore you both apart, the real thing that did was your life.

Ꮚლ•

You moved to London to complete your further studies, and you were shocked to find Lando Norris being your neighbour. You weren't much of a cars go vroom's fan, but you knew about him through your friends.

He helped you move in, welcomed you, and was the best neighbour anyone could wish for.

Slowly this turned into a bond which was unbreakable.

But since he joined McLaren, he had to travel across the world, every now and then, and soon your family moved in, because of which the two of you never got personal time to share.

First few years into the relationship were great, but as the time passed, every thing started to fall apart.

You saw the comments under his posts regarding his girlfriend, your family starting throwing tantrums regarding your grades and career and soon became financially unstable, your brother started struggling to get a job, your bestfriend moved to a different city.

Due to these things loneliness crept in and everything became unbearable. Every day you woke up to fighting, tauntings and yellings, and as the days passed by the comments kept circling back and forth through your head.

Oh my god, even tho magui and him are doing an ad they look soo good together.

He should totally date her.

She's so pretty and matches his vibe, and aesthetic.

And due to the increasing distance you both never really spoke on such topics, also you did not want to bother him with your stupid problems.

And one day it suddenly hit you, you can't do this anymore. You can't pretend to happy, bcoz the entire 'fake it till you make it' is not working. Your family was a shit hole, a mess, a tangled knot that couldn't be solve anymore. You weren't doing fine, you needed someone.

You called Lando hoping to finally tell him everything, you called once, you called twice, but no one answered the phone, and then you decided it was the last time you'll call, the minute you were going to loose the hope he answered

LN: hello?

You: I wanted to talk to you

LN: um I'm actually quite busy, can I call you back later?

You heard the loud music, and yelling in the background, and frowned.

You: you're at the club?

LN: yeah, how about we talk later on?

You: But we haven't spoken since a week Lando, I really need to speak to you

LN: I know darling, but I can't talk to you in the club you know? I'll call you back, promise.

After hearing it, you hung up and signed loudly.

You waited and waited but there were no messages, or calls. Soon you realised that talking to him was pointless. He wouldn't get it. He was raised with love being fed from silverspoon, he has a nice, loving family, money, and everything you could only dream of. Also it's not like talking to him would change anything.

The more you thought the more unbearable it became, how could you tell him about this? The situation? Your family? How could you bring him into this mess? If tomorrow you get married, what would be think of this? You don't deserve him. His love. His family. Because you both are so different, it's not working out now, and it won't in future. So you decide to let him be free, and you slept crying on you pillow.

Ꮚლ•

A week passed by, and he finally called you,

LN: hello?

You: hello

LN: you wanted to talk?

You: yes

LN: I'm free right now so yeah go ahead

You: I think we should break up

LN: what?! Why?!

You swore you could hear the shock from his voice

You: it's not working out Lando

It took alot of courage to spoke those words.

LN: is it because I didn't call you frequently? I swear I was busy with training, and media stuff, the night I went to the club only because max forced my team to let me catch a break, I swear I'll make time for you just, please let's not breakup.

You could hear his voice breaking, and felt a sudden pain in your heart, but you knew it's for his betterment. He'll find someone else.

You: No Lando, it's not because of that, I mean part of it yes, but it's on me, I can't do long distance like this. It feels horrible not being able to love you openly, or come to your matches because of my family, and school, I can't be the ideal girlfriend to you.

You didn't speak the whole truth, but didn't lie either, your heart pained as those words came out of your mouth, and you could hear him breaking apart, and crying.

LN: we can try tho? Just for the time being, once you graduate, you can be with me, we'll travel the world, I'll take you to each and every circuit, you'll be in my jersey, I'll show you off proudly, please just wait?

You: I can't Lando please.

LN: you made up your mind?

You: yes.

LN: there's no changing? I- I really can't change it?

You: yes, you can't

LN: ok- okay.

You: I'm sorry

LN: I'm sorry too, for making you feel this way, that you can't be loved openly, but trust me, you're worth everything, and there's nothing more in the world I want aside from you. If you ever changed your mind, you know I'll be waiting for you. I love you.

You: I'll keep that in mind, I love you too.

LN: maybe next time.

You: maybe next time, goodbye Lan.

LN: goodbye my love.

As you hung up, tears flooded through your eyes, and your breathing became heavier, soon you started to gasp for air, as you felt a creeper tightening it's knot around your throat, and soon enough you fainted.

Ꮚლ•

Days went by, and you were helping your family packing the stuff, and suddenly you heard a familiar voice in your front porch.

You saw him speaking to your mom.

"you're... Moving out?" You heard him ask your mom with a fallen face, and frown hoping for it to be false.

"yeah, I thought she told you?" Your mom spoke, her facial expression clearly hinting that she's suprised.

"actually it's my fault, I've been too busy you know" you heard his voice becoming heavy as he spoke those words, but he quickly concealed it by asking another question, "do you mind if I ask why?"

"oh not at all dear, it's just the family is suffering financially alot, and we can't afford to pay the rent, so we're moving out to somewhere cheaper."

"is it in London?"

"no, we're going to different city."

You heard silence, and after a pause, with a heavy voice he spoke, "oh.., well let me help you"

You saw him helping your mom moving the boxes, like it's completely natural. Soon your eyes met, and you moved away, trying to hide the redness, and swollen eyes.

He took a step towards you, but your mom called your name, and you rushed towards her avoiding him.

"why don't you talk to him, for the last time?" Your mom spoke while getting in the car, and shutting the door.

You both stood infront of each other, heavy silence clung to the air, which was soon broken by him.

"why didn't you tell me?"

"why bother? " You didn't mean to sound harsh but somehow you did.

"so you think I don't deserve to know?"

"no it's just.. look you deserve more okay? More than what I can give to you."

"have you ever thought that I want you?" He wanted to scream, shout and stop you, he wanted to tell you that don't leave, don't go away, most importantly don't give up.

"look what's done is done, we can't undo it, so let's just keep things that way, I don't want you to get tangled in my mess, and also you'll find someone."

With that you walked away. Leaving him stranded. He watched the car fading into the background, he don't know why, but he wished you would look back, turn around, giving him a hope that you two will meet in future, that you're not giving up on him, but you didn't. Instead the entire ride you were looking out of your window wondering what future holds for you, wondering how your life changed.

Reminiscing about everything thing that you've been through, you let out a heavy sigh.

So long, London.

.

.

.

.

[darkkitty1208]

Something I like to think about while chin-deep in this godforsaken serirei brainrot is the something-of-a-parallel in how both Serizawa and Reigen are both actually very lonely people.

One of the things I love about ONE's storytelling and style -- especially in mp100 -- is the way the sad stuff is deliberately concealed under humour/comedy while still managing to sprinkle a tasteful amount of seriousness in the mix. The show balances the Funny and the Plot really, really well.

But if you step back and peel off the slapstick for a moment you'll realise that a good amount of characters in the show are the kind that, if you think about them a little too hard or for a little too long, will just be devastating. Seri and reigen fit into that a lot -- while unlike reigen, serizawa isn't much of a comic relief/joke character that hides behind his flashy ways to obscure the raw existential terror of being fundamentally flawed inside, the way his character is being laid out in the story and how he subsequently grows and develops as a person is still very subtle. And kind of depressing, if you think about it.

They're both very isolated people. Serizawa being a former shut-in forced to navigate in society independently freshly after spending years relying on the boss of a toxic workplace environment -- understatement, btw, it was literally an evil organisation -- and Reigen spending most of his life faking who he is and robbing himself of the opportunity to form meaningful bonds and relationships and connections to people as Just Himself and not the persona he for some reason staunchly puts on... it's just something that gets me real pensive these days.

They literally complement each other. Reigen, giving Serizawa that one needed push to finally let go of his dependency towards anyone who poses a higher power over him, and to become his own person, and serizawa, being reigen's first ever adult friend besides a couple middle schoolers and a green cloud -- and the thing is!!!!!! The thing is. Serizawa admires reigen not for his psychic powers (or lack thereof). Somewhat-of-a-parallel aside, there's a contrast to how serizawa and reigen are about vulnerability; seri's the kind of person who'd dump his entire life story to anyone who's willing to listen (case in point: his literal first meeting with mob) but reigen would rather rub salt on his own underwear than share a single piece of his personal life or just about anything pertaining to his full, honest, human self. It literally took mob plowing through half the city to get him to admit that he isn't psychic. The only way he knows to form connections or befriend people is the indirect way -- giving personal advice without revealing any personal experience, giving encouragement and reassurance while acting like he himself knows how to handle a situation even when he's cornered himself/struggling not to let things go to (further) shit, being sincere but not exactly being honest.

Which is why seri probably wouldn't think twice about reigen's social 'adeptness' and 'wiseness'. Spending most of his life not exactly being taught social norms or how to read into social cues, it's not a wonder someone like reigen is somebody that seri canonically admires and looks up to a lot.

But that's the thing. Serizawa admires reigen for him, and his skills, and his good heart that pushed seri to choose what he wants in life and to make decisions of his own, instead of reigen's facade of being a great and powerful psychic. I firmly, firmly believe serizawa knows reigen isn't psychic at all, and while i think he might've been conflicted about it at first, i do think he eventually grows to accept it because reigen doesn't need to be a psychic for serizawa to connect with him or to admire him, unlike toichirou.

And that really enforces the whole "psychic powers are still a human trait/don't make you any different from others" message that the show time and time again delivers real, real well.

I just. Ugh. I love them a lot.

[little-diable]

There's just something about you – Professor!Austin Butler (smut)

Well well well, ofc I {as somebody who has a massive prof!crush} had to give in and write this. I think this has potential for a part 2, so please tell me how you feel about that. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader works as Professor Butler's teaching assistant. The two are about to take a trip with his class when she gets sick. While staying with him for the weekend the two finally give in to the pull keeping them chained together.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), professor x TA relationship, quite fluffy

Pairing: prof!Austin Butler x fem!TA!reader (3k words)

picture credit to the original owner

“Alright, listen up!“ Professor Butler’s voice echoed through the room. His words were followed by instant silence, forcing all eyes towards the handsome professor. She stood close to him, not enough to feel his body heat clashing against her, though just enough to hyperfocus on the scent of his expensive cologne – a scent she’d always pick up on, no matter where she was at.

“As you all know, we’re leaving for our trip next week. (Y/n) was kind enough to take over the bookings, but we need you to find one or two people to share a room with. Please send (y/n) an email til Monday, so we can avoid any confusion when we check in. If you have any further questions about the trip or concerns, feel free to reach out to one of us.”

She had joined the faculty as Professor Butler’s PhD candidate and teaching assistant a while ago, slowly having to adjust to being around a man like him. At first, (y/n) had struggled to focus, fighting against the urge to stare at him at any given chance, but slowly she had gotten more and more relaxed around him, actually getting to enjoy her interactions with the young professor. 

“Please don’t forget your homework, alright? I’ll see you all next week.” The room was filled with loud noises as he ended the class, forcing the students to their feet and out into the hallway. (Y/n) busied herself with his notes, rechecking them before she allowed her gaze to find his bright eyes. “You did good today, (y/n), if you feel comfortable enough you can gladly do next week’s class on your own.” 

“I don’t think I feel ready to do this without you yet.” His big hand found her shoulder, leaving her torn between focusing on the feeling of his thumb softly stroking the fabric of her blouse, and the intense eye contact he now held with her. For a second, neither of them spoke, leaving (y/n) to wonder what he was thinking about. 

“Alright, but you’re by far better than me at catching their attention, I hope one day you’ll realise that.” Professor Butler’s raspy chuckle had an addicting effect to it, leaving her to avert her gaze as he took a step away from her. “Chinese takeout while we grade the essays?” 

……

She woke with a pained whine as her hand reached for her phone, trying to read the time. It was Saturday morning, two days before they’d go on their short trip, but her body was clearly fighting against all plans, making her suffer from a sore throat and a blocked nose. Curses wanted to claw through her, cursing fate for pushing her into her misery. 

(Y/n) had been looking forward to the trip for a while, excited about spending some more time with Professor Butler outside of his office and the room he was teaching in. Secretly she had hoped for some more calmer moments where they could go back to sharing information about one another that had nothing to do with their research or their university work. Hopes that were now evaporating into nothing but cold air. 

For a moment, (y/n) pondered over her choices, but her fingers had already started to move before her mind could protest, opening the email app. With a few quick words she sent her professor a small warning, telling him that she was sick and would most likely not be able to join on Monday. She felt pathetic for the wave of hurt and exhaustion flushing through her, leaving her trembling body to search the warmth of her bed. 

It didn’t take long for her phone to go off, forcing her glassy eyes to read his reply. Simple words told her to give him a call with his added number to the email. Perhaps it was the fault of her cold, perhaps it was the fault of her hazy thoughts, whatever it was, it stopped (y/n) from overthinking, clicking on the number before her anxiety could get the best of her. 

“Morning, (y/n).” His raspy voice shot shudders down her spine, momentarily letting her eyes flutter close. She repeated the greeting while internally cringing at the raspy sound of her voice. “Oh sweetheart, you sound horrible.”

Heat rose to her face at the pet name, having to forcefully stop herself from gasping. She could only let go of a hum, not trusting herself to speak coherent words he could easily pick up on. 

“Are you still living alone?” A while ago (y/n) had told him about her struggles to find a roommate, unsure who to pick as she had high priorities she didn’t want to let go of. Once again she hummed, wondering where he was taking this conversation. “Alright, I want you to pack a bag. I’ll pick you up in a few, you’re spending the weekend with me, I can’t go on that trip without you. We’ll get you back to your healthy self in no time.”

“Professor,” she sat up as she tried to protest, having to drown out the sinful thoughts instantly flushing through her mind. “I don’t want to take up any of your space, and you could also get sick. I’ll be alright here, don’t worry.”

“No, you’re staying with me. I won’t accept any protests, (y/n). What’s your address?”

It hadn’t taken long for them to end the call, for her to take a quick shower and to pack a bag. Her heart kept racing in her chest, urging her to move, to be smart about the things she packed. She barely got any time to overthink as he had arrived at her place rather quickly, but now as she was sitting on his couch, wrapped in a blanket, (y/n)’s thoughts finally caught up with her. 

Austin – as he had asked her to call him – was all too gentle with her, tending to her every need with worry tugging on his features. (Y/n) could only guess that she looked as horrible as she felt, tired eyes barely managing to stay open, and yet she didn’t want to miss a thing, cherishing the chance to be so close to him. 

“How about we watch a movie before I make some soup, huh?” Austin plopped down next to her, tugging on her legs to place them in his lap. (Y/n) allowed herself to study him for a few seconds, his blonde hair had that slightly unruly touch to it, blue eyes focusing on his TV. He wore a simple white shirt that perfectly stuck to his muscles, paired with blue jeans that gave him a different touch to the version of him who always wore suits in class. 

“Sure, I’m good with whatever.” He shot her a quick smile that left her trembling, having to calm her racing heart with her grasp on the blanket growing stronger. She barely managed to pay the opening sequence of the movie any attention, getting lost in her thoughts as his thumb stroked the soft skin of her ankle, holding onto her as if he was scared she could slip right through his fingers. 

For the first time in years, she felt an unfamiliar kind of safety wrapping itself around her, clinging to her like a second skin made to protect her, to cherish her, to perhaps even love her. 

……

Quiet steps carried her towards the big kitchen, engulfed in darkness as (y/n) started the kettle, hoping that another cup of tea could finally lull her to sleep. She was too deep in thought to notice his approaching figure, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of his naked chest. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” (Y/n) jumped at the sound of his raspy voice, pressing her hand to her chest as she turned towards him. A laugh clawed through Austin, guiding him closer to her with slow steps. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.” 

(Y/n) had to turn from him, trying to focus on the almost boiling water as he came to a halt behind her, reaching for another cup. His naked upper body was pressed against her back, one of his arms found its way around her waist to keep her close to him. Goosebumps covered her limbs, silently whispering to her, guiding her hand to find his. 

No words were spoken between the two as she poured the hot water into the big cups while Austin reached for the teabags. He loosened his hold on her as if he was begging her to turn around, to get lost in the bright eyes that reminded her of warm summer mornings spent at the beach, getting lost in daydreams that felt more real than memories of things she had lived through. Her body urged her to move, to lean against the counter with her eyes finding his features, wandering over his handsome face. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, (y/n)?” She didn’t trust her voice, knowing that she’d most likely make a fool of herself, but the two hands finding her waist, keeping her caged between his tall frame and the counter, encouraged her to part her lips. (Y/n)’s eyes focused on his neck, on the golden necklace he wore, dangling from his neck like a pendulum about to give her a glimpse into her future. 

“I,” a shaky exhale left (y/n), trusting her mind and heart to guide her. “I keep thinking about how comfortable I feel here. Thank you for letting me stay with you, Austin.” 

She expected him to shoot her his signature smile, to pull away from her to reach for his cup. But he kept close to her, hand slowly moving up to her face, cupping her cold cheek. He forced her to look up at him, making her breath hitch in her chest as she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her lips. 

“I tried to stay away from you, but you’re not making it easy for me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) got no chance to reply, silenced by the feeling of his lips finding hers. Ever since she had joined his team, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, wondering how his lips would feel pressed against hers, how he’d hold onto her as they got lost in their kiss. But this was so very different to all these daydreams, more intense, more exciting even. With his hands finding the back of her thighs, he helped her onto the counter, allowing himself to stand between her thighs as they kept kissing. 

“Now you’re definitely getting sick for sure,” (y/n) mumbled the words against his lips as they parted to catch their breaths. Austin’s raspy laugh echoed through the kitchen, bright eyes burning her skin as if she was caught in a wildfire, about to burn to the ground. 

“For you I’ll gladly take on the struggles of being sick.” His words left her heart roaring, lips finding his once again. Their tongues met in a teeth clashing kiss, wordlessly managing to communicate their longing, the desperate need they had fought against these past months. “I need you to be honest with me, do you want this? I don’t want to pressure you, sweetheart.”

“Take me to bed, professor.” (Y/n)’s smirk grew wider as his pupils dilated, picking her up without another warning. She had her legs wrapped around him, face buried in the crook of his neck. Within seconds they found themselves in Austin’s bedroom, he didn’t give her much time to take in the big room, the pictures gracing the walls, fully focused on him as he pressed her down on the mattress. 

Austin kissed his way down her throat as if he was following the trail of a treasure hunt, high on the adrenaline of the search. (Y/n) trembled beneath him while her fingers tugged on the hairs at the nape of his neck before moving down to his muscular shoulders. Somehow it felt as if they had done this numerous times before, knowing exactly how and where to touch one another. 

He parted from her to pull her shirt over her head, focus instantly drawn to her naked chest. The way Austin was staring at her made (y/n) feel as if he was marvelling at a masterpiece, a creation of old times the human mind barely managed to understand. Carefully he cupped her breasts, groaning at the feeling of her soft skin pressing against his. They held eye contact as he brought his lips back to her skin, sucking on both nipples before kissing his way down her stomach. 

“Austin,” (y/n) choked on his name, begging him to keep on moving, to touch her where she needed him the most. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart, what do you want?” His voice grew lower with every spoken syllable, pushing heat down to her core. She felt her walls clench around nothing, begging him to finally fuck her. 

“You, all of you. Please, I need you so badly.” Without speaking another word, he ripped her panties from her hips, letting his fingers explore her arousal-covered folds. His name rolled off her tongue, she arched her back at the careful touches, trying to shuffle even closer. Austin could do whatever he wanted to her at that very moment, she was putty in his hands, his to toy with, his to use for his own pleasure. Whatever he wanted, she’d do it, if he kept on touching her like this. 

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” (Y/n) could only nod her head, letting go of a breathless gasp the second his rough tongue brushed through her folds. Austin moaned at her taste, he wrapped one arm around her thigh, keeping her pressed to him while the other hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with his fingers. Within the first seconds of him touching her, (y/n) had known that she wouldn’t be able to hold on for long, overstimulated by his touches. 

No longer could she spare her hurting throat any attention, no longer did she struggle to breathe on, all she could do was focus on him, on the way he dipped his tongue into her tightness, how he added more speed to his movements, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“You taste so sweet, I could stay like that forever, if you’ll let me.” She moaned at his praise, fingernails scratching at his skin to try and hold on. Her legs were trembling from the strength she used to curl her toes, unsure how much longer she could stop herself from giving in to an intense orgasm. 

“It’s alright, cum for me, show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.” Austin’s words pushed her into the open arms of her orgasm, calling out his name as he kept circling her clit with a smirk glued to his lips. He watched her every move, every micro-expression he could pick up on, fully mesmerised by the beautiful woman he had wanted to pull closer for months. 

“Oh god,” (y/n) panted the words, drawing gleeful chuckles from Austin as he let go of her. Her glassy eyes watched him undress, gaze wandering down his muscular upper body, past his six-pack to his sweatpants. His cock sprang free as he stepped out of his clothes, a sight that pushed heat straight down to her cunt, needing to feel him buried inside of her. “I need you to fuck me now, I can’t wait any longer, Austin.”

“Mhm, such a desperate girl, we should teach you some patience one day.” He reached for a condom, rolled it down his cock and positioned himself between her thighs. With her hand finding the back of his neck, (y/n) pulled him back down for a kiss, distracting herself from the slight pain as he pushed into her, having to adjust to his size. For a second, they held still, clinging to one another to let go of a few deep exhales, fingers interlaced to try and keep themselves grounded. 

“Move, please, professor.” Austin let go of a growl at the use of the title, building a comfortable rhythm that allowed one another to get used to the sensation. He was careful with her, not daring to hurt her when she was still sick, not fully able to guide her body. But the blissful expression tugging on her features was enough to calm his racing heart, finding enjoyment in the way she clung to him, how she seemingly felt the same pull he did.

They were a mess of tangled limbs, of moans blurring together, of hearts beating in sync, a match so perfect neither of them wanted to break out of their very own bubble. Their bodies met with every thrust, bringing them closer and closer together, while their eyes found back together. 

“My pretty girl, I don’t want to let you go again.” He murmured the words against her lips, luring a soft chuckle out of (y/n). 

“Don’t let me go, don’t you dare.” Her head rolled back as his cock nudged her swollen spot, leaving him grinning in success. Austin kept staring down at her, trying to burn every passing second into his mind, praying that he won’t ever forget about this night. 

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock, sweetheart.” With a gasp leaving her, her fingers found her pulsing clit, moving quickly to give her the needed push. He fucked her through her second orgasm, letting go himself as she relaxed beneath him. 

Austin clung to her as they both tried to catch their breaths, only parting as they managed to break through the hazy fog wrapping itself around the two lovers. He threw away the condom before he returned to her, cupping her now warm cheek to pull her in for another kiss. 

“How about a bath?” She could only nod as he picked her up and carried her into his bathroom, while making the silent promise to cherish her for as long as she’ll let him.

[mrghostrat]

Haven’t been on tumblr in a long time.. I remember your streamer au, but nothing more. Id appreciate a small recap! :3

HII! for anyone who hasn't read it, it's a very slice-of-life collection of scenes for the most part, so there's loads of lil scenes i'll leave out of this. but here's a look back at the overall friends-to-lovers plot!

and they were streamers (10/16) (unfinished wip)

aziraphale and crowley are full time twitch streamers who live together in a london townhouse. crowley streams whatever he wants, usually toxic pvp games and "just chatting" hanging out and drinking. aziraphale streams all kinds of wholesome crafty content, such as cooking, baking, reading, and book binding.

crowley has been in love with aziraphale since... god, far too long. he'll never say anything because he knows aziraphale only sees him as a friend

aziraphale is bombarded with a hate raid during pride month, and is severely ill-equipped to moderate it himself. crowley jumps in to shut it down and fix his security settings to protect him further.

aziraphale brings crowley a cup of tea one stream (standing off-camera) when he's heavily focused on a game. he startles at the sudden presence, shouting "angel" accidentally for everyone to hear. aziraphale doesn't mind, but the chat go nuts speculating over the pet name and his relationship with his roommate

furfur, a sub-par streamer and tea-spill investigator, notes a connection on twitter between this "angel" and and old stream clip where crowley is caught ranting and rambling (very smittenly) about an "angel" in his life.

aziraphale's chat starts to wonder about the fondness between him and his elusive off-screen roommate

crowley posts in aziraphale's chat asking if he can have a bite of what he's cooking. he goes to the kitchen to try some, but the chat is too distracted freaking out that the notorious crowley is watching an aziraphale stream to realise aziraphale has actually handed a plate off camera. aziraphale seems troubled when he notices the chat is so beserk, so crowley makes a secret side account to send him a donation and tell him to keep up the good work

aziraphale comes home to find crowley in a discord call, playing party games with anathema, newt, and nina. he settles in beside him on the couch to join in.

crowley surprises aziraphale by raiding him at the end of his stream. he uses his 3,000 viewers to ask if aziraphale plans on going to a twitch meet-up in edinburgh. when crowley finally asks himself, aziraphale says yes.

the dark council, a huge and popular UK twitch team, tweets their curiosity about crowley's elusive roommate, wanting anyone with sleuthing abilities to spill the tea for them.

shaxx encourages furfur to investigate his theory that aziraphale and crowley live together, wanting him to impress the dark council twitch team to grow both their streams.

aziraphale and crowley drive to edinburgh together, playing games in the car, answering questions on twitter, and have a tense conversation on what to do if you harbour a secret crush. aziraphale thinks you should go for grand gestures, but crowley thinks it's best to bottle things up.

they attend the meet-up at a packed pub. crowley introduces aziraphale to beelzebub and promises to stick by his side, but as the drinks start flowing, they both get more comfortable to mill around and socialise on their own.

furfur, hired as the photographer for the event, arrives only after crowley and aziraphale separate from one another. but at the end of the night, gets a photo of them leaving the pub together in a drunken giggle fit, looking like smitten lovers. shaxx and furfur speculate they might be more than just roommates.

back in london, aziraphale makes plans for his holiday fundraiser stream. his viewers suggest a "roommate reveal" for £5,000. both he and crowley are flabbergasted that anyone is even slightly interested. furfur rushes to compile a tea spill twitlonger before the fundraiser.

while planning for his christmas events, aziraphale bakes a practise batch of angel cake on stream, crowley's favourite. he jumps up from the couch to eat a slice, accidentally wandering straight onto camera-- spoiling the fundraising surprise, and ruining furfur's tea spill. they're trending on twitter the next day.

aziraphale is hate raided again, but this time the raiders hack into his chat bot. crowley rushes in to reset the bot's data before they can export years of chat logs and sensitive viewer information. when the raid is halted, aziraphale is relieved, then devastated to realise everything has been wiped, until crowley assures him he made a backup of the logs, a la saving his books.

aziraphale finally realises he loves crowley. he's so overcome with affection for him, it starts to freak crowley out. crowley thinks he's getting swept up in the christmas season and is reading into affection that isn't actually there, and aziraphale thinks he's making crowley uncomfortable by upsetting the status quo

aziraphale becoems downtrodden by how closed-off crowley is being, and crowley panics when he realises he hasn't been subtle at all. he promises aziraphale hasn't done anything wrong and that he's just in his own head about their upcoming christmas party with their mods. aziraphale tries to believe him.

[lnqr]

Heart In the Wrong Hands - Chapter 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: Few quick notices

should I name the chapters? if so leave name suggestions in the comments.

Finally - I made a Wattpad account and book so if you all prefer to read it on there, here is the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/388934453-heart-in-the-wrong-hands I'll be updating it at the same time as I post to Tumblr

you guys get to meet Y/n this chapter! yay!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Previous Part - Prologue

Next Part - Master post

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: 

Time period accurate racism

Time period accurate sexism

Swearing

Domestic Violence 

Please be careful with what you read. You are responsible for your own media consumption

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before you read!! -- while yes this is chapter 1, this story won't make much sense unless you read the prologue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay enjoy!!

~ Alastor’s POV ~ 

Alastor got out of his car and straightened his black bowtie. He didn't often get dressed up further than his usual attire but when he did he made sure he looked pristine. He wanted to piss off Virgil, that was his goal for the night. Showing him that a ‘street rat like him’ owned such nice clothes and was able to look so divine would surely annoy him. 

So he was dressed to the max. He wore a blood red formal shirt, a black waistcoat with red buttons and stripes, black bowtie and white gloves. Additionally he’d spent time washing and straightening all of the curls out his hair. He put on his fanciest pair of glasses and wiped every blood stain off them till they were spotless. 

(A/N: This picture is how I envisioned him in this scene. This is not my art)

Alastor stared up at the large white mansion he couldn’t help but scoff. Of course Virgil lived in a house like this. He rolled his eyes and followed the other guests in, his long legs carrying him easily up the stairs. 

He took in his surroundings carefully. He was in a large room which was decorated way over the top with all sorts of decorations in gold and white. He spotted Virgil chatting to a few important looking people but what caught his eye was someone else. 

Standing there with Virgil's arm wrapped around her shoulders, was a woman. She was wearing an extravagant white dress which matched Virgil’s white suit. It didn't take a genius to realise they clearly shared some form of romantic relationship. 

~ Y/n’s POV ~

How long did you have to keep up the act? Virgil’s hand was gripped tight around your shoulder and you had to force your body to relax. And these damn shoes, your feet ached.

 Virgil was chatting away with a few guests who you didn't know and you kept zoning out. Occasionally you’d nod in agreement, having no idea what you were agreeing with. 

That was until you noticed a man enter. He was tan skinned, a few shades darker than accepted by society. you had no problem with that but you knew Virgil did. So what was he doing here? 

The man turned his head and looked directly at you. It felt like he was staring into your soul and you immediately tore your eyes away from him and back to the floor at your feet. 

You could feel his stares and you were hyperaware of the footsteps approaching you. Why was he coming closer.. 

“Oh… Alastor. You actually came?” You felt Virgil’s arm grip tighter as he spoke. 

“But of course I did. Thee Virgil Callahan has graced me with an invite, I’d be a fool to deny it” The man spoke and you looked up to see him place his hand on his chest. 

“And who is this lovely lady you have here?” Lovely lady? Was he talking to you? Shit, he was staring at you again.

“I-I’m Y/n.. Nice to meet you… Alastor was it?”

“Yes indeed! You may have heard of me from my radio sh-”

“Alright that's enough. Y/n, we don't speak to filth like him.”  Virgil interrupted, pushing you behind him and out of Alastor’s reach 

This whole situation made you feel uneasy. What the hell was happening? And why? Why did you want to keep talking to this man? There was something familiar about him. What was he saying before? Something about radio? Alastor… radio… 

You peaked over Virgil’s shoulder. “Oh! You're the man from the radio! Alastor Hartfelt! I used to listen to your show daily before-” 

“Enough! I told you not to speak to him!” Virgil turned around staring daggers down at you. But you weren't focused on him. No. How could you when you could still see Alastor behind him. Alastor basically towered over Virgil and was also staring at you. But it felt different. Virgil's stare was cold but possessive. And Alastor’s? His was also cold… but there was something else you couldn’t quite place. 

“Hello! Earth to Y/n! God what are you women good for if you can’t even focus on men for two seconds.” Virgil was waving his hand in your face. 

“Huh?” 

“God, useless woman. Listen to me when I speak.” he spat in your face.

“Right… Sorry Virgil.” you weakly replied and from your peripheral vision saw alastor walk off behind you. 

You were actually relieved by this. Something about his presence was off but you had no idea why. Maybe it was the fact Virgil had actually invited him? Your finance? Inviting a man of colour to one of his prestigious parties? Surely that wasn't right. But that's what Alastor said, no? ‘Thee Virgil Callahan has graced me with an invite, I’d be a fool to deny it’

Maybe you were the fool for over thinking it. 

You picked up a glass of wine. The finest selection there was to offer. That's what Virgil had said. ‘This party has to go perfectly.’ 

As you raised the glass to your lips you felt something bump you from behind. To your horror the wineglass slipped from your hand and flew in slow motion through the air. You watched helplessly as the red wine spilled out all over your finances white suit. 

You heard a snicker from behind you and you briefly saw Alastor walking away with a grin on his face. 

Did he push you? 

“Y/N! What the hell!” Virgil yelled and gave you a hard slap as you turned back to face him. 

The room went silent for a moment as you fell to the floor before everyone turned back to their conversations. 

“Stupid women. You ruined my brand new suit! Do you know how much this thing cost?” Virgil spat down at you. “More than your entire existence is worth!” He pulled you sharply by the arm up to your feet and you had to hold back tears. 

“V-Virgil it was an accident I-“ 

“I don’t want to hear it!” He interrupted and pulled you out of the conference room and down a hallway. 

Virgil pushed you into a room, your shared room. He slammed the door behind him and threw you to the floor. Pain shot through your back as it hit the hard wood floor. Your eyes shut as you let out a cry of pain, tears now flowing freely. 

You felt his foot press against your stomach and you gasped for air as it was all forced out of your body. 

“Come on, apologise bitch. And then after the party your cleaning it. I want every stain out by tomorrow night.” 

“Y-Yes Virgil, I’ll clean it. Good as new…” Your voice shook 

Virgil reached down and grabbed your hair, pulling your head back to look at him. 

“And next time, dont spill your drink on me.” 

You nodded frantically and sighed with relief when he finally let go of your hair. He took off his suit jacket and threw it on you with a disapproving glare before turning and leaving, slamming the door behind him. 

With a shaky breath you forced your body up into a seated position. Your back ached and your face stung from his slap. 

You looked down at the white suit now stained with red wine in your lap. It was barely even a drop, why was he freaking out? You sighed and pushed your self to your feet. It would do you no good to think about what’s already happened, may as well move on and get this cleaned. 

[sc0tters]

Second Chance | Jamie Drysdale

summary: jamie might still have your mind but does he really have your heart?

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, mild choking, mild degradation, jealous jamie, swearing.

word count: 3.68k

authors note: for how long this took me I’m embarrassed to admit to how short it is… this part two was also so freaking weird to write so I’m hoping it’s a bit better to read.

pt 1

You had grown to hate Anaheim.

The city was a shell of its former self with where the shadows of Jamie seemed to haunt your mind. Everywhere you looked you swore he was there and you hated being met with the reality that he wasn’t. But most of all you hated the fact that you couldn’t seem to hate him.

Trevor noticed the decline in your mood but he just assumed that it was some kind of seasonal depression. And as he focused on building his new relationship with his girlfriend, he simply didn’t notice how far you had fallen. Trying to grapple with life as a twenty year old was always going to be tough and still feeling the pain of a broken heart that was dealt to you by the man who you couldn’t ever call yours.

It was this weird sense of grief you felt. You couldn’t say that you missed him because then what was it that you missed? He wasn’t your boyfriend, and at best Jamie was the guy you slept with from time to time. To top it all off you were a barely keeping it all together whilst Jamie seemed to be unscathed from the unfortunate emotions, only furthering your pain.

Your friends put you on enough dating sites to last anyone a lifetime as you were the only one single. And as you finally stopped turning them down, they wouldn’t give you a chance to change your mind. With each guy you could only find his downfalls or how he wasn’t like Jamie and how your heart and your brain just wanted the man who clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

So after almost three months of struggling with all of these men that clearly weren’t enough to pull your mind from the grasps of Jamie; you finally found someone who made you feel alive and funnily enough he had been right in front of you all along. Alex started hanging out more with you when Trevor started spending more time with Dixie.

Alex had actually shown up at the Zegras siblings apartment one night looking for Trevor “hey Al.” You smiled as you saw the boy stand over you “is Trev in?”Aled asked as he cocked his head shoving his hands into his shorts pockets.

Your lips pursed together as you shook your head “he’s out on a date.” Your words made him wriggle his eyebrows as he laughed “I got that man dinner for nothing?” Every Wednesday the duo would go for dinner if they didn’t have a game and now it seemed that your brother forgot of that tradition.

You frowned sending him a sigh “if you’re up for an episode of the bachelor I could eat?” You offered opening the door further as you smiled tilting your head inwards “since you asked so nicely.” Alex didn’t hesitate to nod as he walked in making himself comfortable on the couch.

That’s how your weeks ended, with Alex on the couch and he was no longer just your brothers best friend but instead a friend of yours. You had to say that you found yourself falling for him. With Alex it was no longer tough to not think about Jamie, instead now it was tough to not let your body feel like it was on fire with nerves.

All the way in Philly sat Jamie as he frowned staring at his phone in his empty apartment. The sound of a notification pulled him from his daze when he realised that he had a voicemail from you. It surprised him when he saw your name but after months of letting his thumb hover over the call button only stopping when the fear of hearing you upset got to him. But instead he was met with the sounds of you in bed with someone else.

The sounds of your breathe shaking echoed in the phones speaker “fuck Al!” You moaned letting your legs shake “you are such a pretty fucking girl.” Alex mumbled as he ran his finger over your clit. It made Jamie freeze listening to you having sex. Was he meant to hang up? Because this clearly wasn’t meant for him.

You grabbed the boy by the back of his neck as you pulled him forward “gonna come.” You announced kissing his lips “go make a mess on my fingers and I’ll make you feel real good with my cock.” As the offer left Alex’s lips a flurry of jumbled sounds and noises left your mouth signalling that you had reached your high.

The sounds made Jamie recoil in disgust as he didn’t know what to do about it. Most of all though he missed being the one who made you sound like that. Jamie didn’t know what to do as he felt his cock hardening in his pants. The season had ended and he was meant to be heading home to his parents but all he could think about was you. There were no rumours on twitter about you and this Al that Jamie swore was Turcotte.

And he knew that Twitter would have found something as they even had scraps of you and Jamie together swirling around the rumour mill. So as he was met with nothing but random pictures of you and Trevor, Jamie knew what he had to do.

You groaned when you were woken up to the incessant pounding on your door when you realised that Trevor was still out “alright I’m coming!” You complained rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Before you could even properly open the door it was pushed into you as the raven haired boy that you knew so well walked in “where is he?” Jamie grunted looking around the pristinely clean apartment “where is who?” You yawned wondering if you were dreaming of Jamie being there.

The boy stopped planting his feet where he was as he sent you a harsh glare “the man you fucked last night y/n!” His words made you freeze as you began to wonder how he knew about what you had done the night before.

A laugh echoed through your ears “you gonna tell me you don’t remember giving me that front row seat to listen in?” your eyes went wide as you realised what had gone on.

You couldn’t help but bring your hand to your mouth as you held back a laugh “you came back because you heard me have sex?” You knew it wasn’t the time to bring it up but that clearly seemed to be his entire reason for being there and you were a fool to think that it could have been something else.

Jamie rolled his eyes as he felt himself grow angry “I leave for Philly and all of a sudden you’re deciding that your type simply has to be friends with your brother.” The flyer spat as he sent you a glare “you don’t get to go there!” The embarrassment you once held had left your chest as it had been replaced by anger.

He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms “why not?” Jamie spoke rhetorically as he cocked his head “because that’s the only thing we have in common.” He pointed out reminding you of how different the boys were.

You chewed at the inside of your cheek “you left me and came back to judge me for moving on?” Your voice was barely a whisper as the boy stepped closer to you.

Part of you was grateful for the fact that Alex left earlier that morning needing to catch a flight back to Michigan but the other part just wanted him to walk into the living room to stop whatever was going to come from this “you didn’t really move on though, did ya?” Jamie’s fingers were rough against your cheek as he towered over you.

A shaky breath left your lips “you’re being mean.” You pointed out trying your best to ignore his question “tell me to leave and I will.” Jamie announced pressing a cold and hard gaze against your weakening one.

The oxygen around the room was struggling to get into your lungs as you shook your head “you know I can’t.” It came with this defeated sigh that even made Jamie pity you “then why’d you go for him?” The question was like the one you had asked yourself so many times and could never find the answers to.

You shrugged as no answer really made the most sense “you enjoyed playing him is that it?” The hockey player was pushing your buttons in search of a particular answer “he’s good to me J.” You shook your head almost offended that the boy in front of you thought that lowly of you.

Yet it gave him the chance to laugh at you once more “better than I was?” It seemed like that was the first question you could actually shake off as you shook your head but this time to really say no “does he have you coming for rounds on end?” Especially once Jamie moved into out from the Zegras sibling’s apartment; it meant that you were over at his more often than not and up until the sun would rise.

Tears welled in your waterline “only you do that.” It was as though his cock left an imprint on your cunt that only he knew how to make feel full “I know my sweet girl.” You really thought that you had moved on from Jamie but as he stood in front of you with his hand caressing your cheek, you knew that you couldn’t have been more wrong.

Jamie put you out of your misery as his free hand gripped at your hip “how about I make you feel real fucking good?” He offered letting his lips hover over yours “please.” Was all the hockey player needed to hear as he picked you up letting your legs wrap around his waist as his lips locked with yours.

All of the lust and anger that both of you felt about the situation -about each other- was oozing out of your systems as your hands tugged through his hair pulling at the roots as his tongue slid into your lips “should fuck you out here like the real slut that you are.” He proposed letting a smirk form across his lips as he watched your eyes go wide.

Trevor had told you he was coming home, you just didn’t know when “Jim.” You whined shaking your head as you motioned your bedroom trying to tell him that today wasn’t the time for it “you worried that your little boy toy is gonna come back to see where you really belong?” Jamie nipped at your neck as he walked you both into your room making sure that the door was shut.

He watched in awe as your eyes scanned his face “his name is Alex, Jamie.” You reminded the boy as you felt guilty thinking about how sweet Alex was to you “and I’m gonna make sure you forget it.” Jamie’s announcement didn’t have you thinking otherwise as he placed you onto your bed settling into his place between your legs.

You had seen Jamie jealous before after you chugged a beer that Mason had given you. But this was a whole new level as if Jamie had something to prove “now rest that pretty little head of yours on that pillow f’me.” The hockey player reached behind you to grab your pillow as he pulled it closer to you.

One thing you always knew how to do was listen to him and today you didn’t disappoint. Your body nestled against your sheets as you looked at him with anticipation “god you’re soaked.” Jamie grunted seeing your soaked cunt as he trailed his fingers against your slit watching in awe as your wetness stuck to fingers.

He swore that the sight would truly never get old as he would watch you like this forever “please.” Your voice waivered as you forced your hips into the air “been thinking about having a taste of this all the fucking time.” Jamie confessed making you meet him with a whimper.

His lips pressed against your knee “Jamie.” You groaned feeling his breath go down your legs as he made sure to spread his love equally “yeah baby.” The hockey player turned his head up to look at you as you chewed at your lower lip.

A mewl left your lips “please fuck me.” You begged feeling desperate to feel him between your thighs again “don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands.” Jamie clicked his tongue as he blew a cool air against your cunt “not after you were fucking him on our bed.” He didn’t even give you a chance to respond as his tongue latched onto your clit.

Your hands gripped at your sheets in an attempt to stop your body from curling into itself “‘m sorry.” You croaked out as your body melted into his touch

Jamie might as well have been a starved man as he treated you like you were his last meal “can’t believe you let him see my sweet tight pussy.” The boy raised his lips only far enough to bring his hand between you both so that he could hit your cunt.

It made you moan as your body shook “he would let me come.” You knew you were playing with fire as the hockey player sent you a glare “that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna get you in so much trouble.” Jamie warned edging dangerously close to you as he smirked.

You used the last bits of power and strength that you had left to smile “you used to deal with that by putting your cock in my mouth.” You swore that in that moment Jamie was seeing the devil as his pupils darkened “that’s before I had to treat you like somebody else’s whore.” He spat letting his fingers grip onto your hips as he turned you over resulting in a yelp leaving your lips.

Your didn’t often deceive you but in that moment you swore you heard Jamie grunt into your ear “you just had to go and give this pretty little cunt to someone who didn’t even deserve it.” Jamie clicked his tongue as he undid his belt.

You gripped at your sheets as you felt your shirt come off of your back as it was lifted up “see he isn’t a fan of you back here.” The hockey player mumbled to himself as your back looked untouched “at least I know your ass is still mine then.” He squeezed your ass in his fingers causing a breathy moan to leave your lips.

You couldn’t help but shake your ass pushing yourself into him “god I need to fuck you.” Jamie groaned feeling his cock throb as he felt your bare cunt grind against him “what are you waiting for then?” The question taunted him practically egging him on as you push his buttons further.

The swollen tip of his cock oozed precum as he wrapped his hand around his shaft “you’re lucky that I can’t get this cunt out of my head.” He grumbled pumping himself once then twice before he dragged the mushroom head over your slit.

It made your body tense as you curled your toes “fuck!” Your moan was swallowed by your pillow as Jamie smirked to himself “seems like you been missing me too.” The hockey player gripped at your hips as he let himself bottom you out.

Both of you stayed there for a moment as your walls hugged his length “like I never even left ya.” Jamie gritted his teeth as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts feeling his eyes flutter “was worried he would have ruined my pretty fucking pussy.” The boy spat oozing with jealousy as it made you whimper.

Tears formed in your waterline when your ass was met with a smack “no!” You cried as you shook your head “don’t worry doll.” Jamie kissed the back of your neck as his hands slid under you to cup your breasts.

The sounds of his thrusts echoed in your ears “could never ruin something that wasn’t his.” Your cunt clenched around Jamie as you were aroused by his possessiveness “you like hearing me say that you’re all mine huh?” You could feel his smirk like the Cheshire Cat as you nodded.

Jamie’s knees dipped into the mattress as he got the best angle into you “all yours.” You moaned as you turned your head up to see him looking back down at you “knew you still had a brain in that pretty head of yours.” The hockey player kissed your cheek as his cock throbbed from within you.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust of his cock “don’t stop J.” You begged feeling a coil snap in your stomach “you feel you haven’t had a good fuck in months.” Jamie wasn’t lying when he said that, your cunt stretched to his cock and it was as though he hadn’t been with you before.

Cries let your lips as you babbled a steady stream of incoherent nonsense “make me feel so full.” Tears streamed down your cheeks as your legs began to shake “you feel me in here?” Jamie asked pressing his hand against your lower stomach where he felt his cock hit your gspot that left you yelping out in pleasure.

His fingers slid lower to rub your clit “fuck I’m gonna come.” You announced not thinking that you would be able to last much longer “gonna hold it until you ask nicely.” Jamie clicked his tongue as his free hand was quick to move to your neck as he pulled you closer to him as he held you upright.

Sweat stuck your both of you as his thrusts began to grow unstable and inconsistent “please let me come.” You called out not caring who could hear you “just want to be all yours.” You nodded feeling your vision get blurry as you didn’t think you were going to last much longer.

Jamie let his teeth sink into your shoulder as he stopped himself from coming in that moment “you never gonna let him get close to your pretty cunt ever again?” Jamie spat pressing his fingertips over the sides of your throat.

You swore your throat was raw as you kept on begging to have him let you come “I’m only yours Jamie.” You mumbled nodding as your ears began to ring “you fucking own me.” That was enough to let Jamie go feral as he used the little energy he had left to practically fuck you into oblivion “just go make a mess on my cock doll.” The order wasn’t something he needed to say twice.

As your cunt clenched around him it triggered the hockey players orgasm on as he spurted his warm load in sticky strings against your cunts walls “fuck J.” You whined writhing against him as you practically forgot how to breathe when the oxygen to your brain began to slow.

It took him a few more thrusts until you both landed on your mattress and his hand left your neck “wow.” Jamie mumbled sliding his cock out from your cunt to see your release mix either his as it oozed out “you okay?” He added flipping you over onto your back as you finally got the chance to look at him.

The way his eyes scanned you deep of concern made you laugh “that was the hottest thing I think you’ve ever done.” You confessed making him match your laugh as he leaned down to kiss you “think I can make it a little hotter then.” Jamie proposed running his hand down your slit before he scooped up whatever release that had oozed from your cunt as he now let it go back into your core as he pushed his fingers through your hole.

That day left an imprint on your mind as four weeks had gone by and Jamie had become nothing more than one of Trevor’s friends. Confessions seemed to way less than your brothers tears as he drunkenly sobbed into your arms one night begging you to end whatever it was after he found you in Jamie’s shirt.

Thankfully Trevor seemed to have no recollection of the conversation as he invited Jamie along to the family house on the lake a little over a month from now. Sure it was going to be weird for you but after a long call with Jamie you both agreed that it was going to be best for things to end for the sakes of Trevor.

He tried to put up a fight but when you brought up distance amongst other factors, Jamie knew he had lost the battle. You and Alex were merely enjoying things the way they were.

It was the perfect balance that truly didn’t need a label to have you feeling secure. Yet as you stood in the bathroom waiting for your timer to go off part of you began to curse your big brother for having to come to you, and for you having to be a good person.

Your period had been late and as it was bikini season you never complained but when you did the math backwards you realised that something was off. Even if you had shared your bed with two different guys, only one had you without any kind of protection between you both was Jamie.

And as you flipped the test over to see the thick bold letters spelling out the word PREGNANT you knew you were in all sense of the word fucked. No amount of tears was ever going to help make this situation better as you began to panic. Your head pressed against your knees as you wanted to wake up from this dream.

Al 🖤: just booked my flight see you next month x

[starlostlix]

Daughterhood in Bungo Stray Dogs - Part 1 - Kyouka

So in light of me finally reading Another Story and my recent obsession with Arcane and its focus on daughters and their relations with their parents (which I love) I wanted to do something like that for BSD. I have 4 main examples (Kyouka, Tsujimura, Aya and Elise) I'll talk about in depth and save some mentions of others for the end part.

Adding the links here to the other posts when they're all out!!

This part is about Kyouka (main timeline, not including Beast!Kyouka) and her relationships with her parental figures. Next part will be Tsujimura.

So Kyouka is really interesting as a character especially in her relationship with her parents (and by extension her ability, Demon Snow). If we remember the events that played out, Kyouka's parents were attacked by a body possession that causes her father to try and k!ll her. In order to protect her, Kyouka's mother, also beginning to be possessed, transferred her skill over to Kyouka and ordered it to protect her. Because of the sudden nature of the transfer, the control of the ability was transferred to the phone rather than herself. However, since she was quite young, for a long while Kyouka thinks that Demon Snow k!lled her parents of its own will and despises it for that.

I think it's fascinating that she has this idyllic view of her mother (at points when she remembers her) but hates her ability which came from her. Because she doesn't know that it was given to her as protection, she thinks Demon Snow is a force for slaughter and nothing more at first, being ingrained into her by the Port Mafia and specifically Kouyou and Akutagawa as her mentors/superiors. But when she learns the truth, she finally sees Demon Snow for what it truly is - a manifestation of her parents love and her mother's protection. Almost as if part of her mother lives on with her in the form of her ability. This is especially important when we notice that Demon Snow somewhat resembles her mother - the long hair in a bun with a hair stick, traditional kimono, similar face shape etc. (I had to use anime images I couldn't find the manga ones in a google search)

Kyouka since has grown an appreciation for Demon Snow, and I think her arc of disliking her ability then coming round to appreciate it once she realises how much it protects her is probably a reason she gets on with Atsushi so well (among other reasons). He began disliking his ability but Byakko has done a lot to protect him and bring him strength, and if the theory that the 'dazai' he's been talking to in his head is in fact Byakko it adds to how much protection she gives him and furthers the comparison between Atsushi and Kyouka's view of their abilities.

Kyouka's mother's main way of protecting her daughter was giving Kyouka her ability - a symbol for her own strength and skill - and so giving her daughter strength. This can be directly contrasted with how Kouyou attempts to protect Kyouka (it can be debated whether Kouyou can be considered a parental figure but hear me out for this point). Kouyou has a very negative outlook on life and is quite cynical, due to her failed mafia escape in her youth that lead to the d3ath of someone she cared dearly about. She feels that people born in the 'dark' are never able to escape to the 'light' - an aspect of how she views herself that she pushes on to Kyouka. Her own fears, frustrations and experiences lead her to try and mould Kyouka to have a similar mindset - her way of 'protecting' Kyouka is trying to make sure she doesn't do what Kouyou had previously attempted in escaping the mafia. However, her way of 'protecting' her is actually harmful in a number of ways and stems from a focus on her own feelings and not the well-being of Kyouka herself - especially since she was the one to tell her Demon Snow murdered her parents.

However, after Kyouka has left the mafia she is still somewhat attached to her but in a more traditionally protective way. Her leaking of documents to Kyouka about the actual reason for her parents' d3ath can be interpreted as her trying to undo the damage she caused, and her ruling against hurting Kyouka shows that she still wants to protect her in some way. But the self centred 'protection' she gave Kyouka in her youth may not be outweighed by these acts even though Kyouka's mindset has somewhat healed.

In essence, whereas Kyouka's mother's protection for her daughter was by giving her strength out of her own love, Kouyou's idea of protection was fuelled by her own internal issues and involved demoralising her so she wouldn't follow in her footsteps. It's really fascinating how different they are in their decisions placed in a similar role in Kyouka's life (although I don't think Kyouka ever thought of Kouyou to be like her mother).

In all daughterhood, for Kyouka, is associated with protection, only differing in its motivations or impact.

[The 2nd part of this will be posted pretty soon after this as I've already written it! Originally this was going to be one long post but I decided to split it up since it was getting really long. I loved talking about Kyouka here as well as her view of her mother, her ability and also Kouyou's logic behind her actions as a mentor, although my explanations may not be the best. Hope you enjoy this series since I am just getting started (and I still need to write the rest of Aya's part and the whole of Elise's part haha). Don't know how long it will be until part 3 tho there's a lot to do for that.]

[topherwrites]

FIC RECS: OUTER RANGE, OUTER BANKS, STRANGER THINGS

If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each. This is split into two parts, TGM fics and everything else.

I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! If I missed you, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!

SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!

RHETT ABBOTT

Yellow Soul by @creatchie8

Trapped in a relationship with your high school sweetheart Perry is like a never ending nightmare of always stepping on eggshells. One winter break changes everything as you are reintroduced to his younger brother, Rhett. Looking for an escape, Rhett provides the perfect shelter you crave.

right where i want you by @sushiwriterhere

Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett.

Odds are Stacked by @sunlightmurdock

In which Rhett loses a bet and you lose your virginity.

Wayfaring Stranger by @/sunlightmurdock

Betrayal sends Rhett veering further West, searching for answers and searching for himself. Instead, he finds you.

Much Love by @southpawbitch

you & rhett have found yourselves in a little fwb situation despite the fact that you have a fiancé.

About Last Night by @delopsia

A self-indulgent take on Rhett's best friend coming back to Wabang and surprising him after his final rodeo.

Dancing Beneath the Moon by @/delopsia

How is it that your heart only longs for the ghost of a cowboy? And why do you get the feeling that his heart utters the same for you?

Closing Time by @youvebeenlivingfictional

“You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. “S’that supposed to mean?” “You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.”

RAFE CAMERON

Untouchable by @boneblushed

It is crucial that the head boy and girl of Kildare Academy work together. Too bad the head girl is you and the head boy is Rafe Cameron.

Glitch by @/boneblushed

Rafe has a bad fall on the ski slopes. A temporary amnesiac, he falls in love with you all over again.

So Gorgeous It Actually Hurts by @/folkloreslovechild (deactivated)

childhood enemies to lovers, the slowest of burns, an unbearable amount of pining, both parties in heavy denial for like 90% of the fic, Rafe’s a total douchebag but he can’t help it (you’re gorgeous).

Euro Trip by @/folkloreslovechild (deactivated)

europe summer trip au!

new light by @outerbankies

you come home from college to spend your last summer before senior year in your hometown of the outer banks. an old friend hits you up wanting something more, and you begin to see what’s really been there all along.

You Belong With Me by @forevermoreharrington

Rafe’s fallen helplessly for his dream girl but she just doesn't see it yet.

tis the damn season by @atlabeth

When your roommate Rafe lies to his family that the two of you are dating, you agree to go home with him for the holidays to help sell it as his fake girlfriend after a generous bribe. It's just three weeks in the Outer Banks with one of your best friends -- what could go wrong?

Armour by @probably-writing-x

Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.

So We Won't Forget by @netegf

you meet rafe cameron at a grief support group while he struggles with the loss of his father. he's trying to be a better man, and you can't help but love him for it.

Hate It When You Leave by @/netegf

you are trying to cope with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with your best friend. He's trying to cope with the fact that you don't go after the things you want… including him.

I Know I Am by @bookofbonbon

For Rafe, it's always been you. He's just waiting for you to realise it too.

STEVE HARRINGTON

redamancy by @sanguineterrain

redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.

dancing with our hands tied part i | part ii by @taintedcigs

in which steve is in love with his best friend's ex.

EDDIE MUNSON

Pearl by @cacoetheswriting

a story about two kids trying to navigate through love and loss, inevitable goodbyes, various reunions, friendships and hardships, joy, heartbreak, plus surviving the upside down - all to the sound of Janis Joplin's Pearl.

[velvet-vox]

Revisiting what Epic Mickey 2 tried to say about trust, second chances, and daddy issues.

In celebration of the recent release of Epic Mickey Rebrushed, and with the possibility of a remake of the second chapter of the franchise on the horizon (one that's most likely going to overhaul the original game's narrative by a lot, like, a complete and utter do-over of the story), I think it's finally time to take a second look at the story that Epic Mickey 2 was trying to tell, the elements that were put in place, and the noticeable shortcomings that it ultimately faced.

Despite how undercooked the story of EM2 turned out to be, I genuinely believe that the writers were actually taking the franchise into the right direction, as a lot of the creative decisions taken in the final game are things that, upon closer inspection, are actually really interesting and build upon what was introduced in the first game pretty naturally.

I have a lot of nostalgia for this game, so much so that even if I grew up and I've realised that the story stinks, I'm not gonna lie: I still feel very impacted when I watch its animated cut scenes; I guess it has to do with how much confidence this game has for itself, it transmits said confidence to me, the viewer, and gets me invested; even if the plot is rather mediocre, you can tell by Oswald's anime-shaped eyes in the final 2d cutscene of the game that the writers were fully confident in what they were trying to say.

I had in mind various ideas on how to add depth to my findings, such as thinking about introducing the character of Mortimer Mouse into the mix, but in the end, I thought it was best to simply analyse the ultimate game for what it became, not for what it could have been.

One important thing that I wanted to highlight immediately before I start, is this post made by user @emoevanafton , who goes into greater detail about the relationship of the Gremlin characters, even if he/she/they kind of over justifies Prescott's actions, making him slightly come off as if he never did anything wrong when that's not the case.

I'm sure there are many other analysis posts made on the Gremlin's family (some of which I actually have right beside me as I write), but I particularly enjoyed reading this one, so I wanted to highlight it some more.

I will also only be talking about the story, because while the gameplay is something that I care about immensely, it's not something that I actually want to talk about, plus, everything that I have to say about it is just "Make it better" and that's it.

So, the very first thing we need to do in order to see if there's anything worth keeping from the story of Epic Mickey 2 is ask this question:

What was Epic Mickey 2 actually all about?

Daddy issues (WHAT?!?) everywhere.

For starters, I'm actually going to jump directly into the less obvious stuff, and discuss how EM2 further expands on the distant father/forgotten son relationship dynamics introduced in EM.

For a brief reminder, one of the sticking points of Oswald's rivalry with Mickey was that he felt that Walt Disney, their father, abandoned him in favour of Mickey; in other words, Mickey is the so called "Golden Child", the younger sibling, the one who gets all of the attention, while Oswald is the independent firstborn, the eldest son (Julius the cat is irrelevant to the story as of now), the one who has to be responsible for himself and for others.

While the actual truth behind Walt's abandonment of Oswald is far more complicated than what the two brothers eventually realize, it's the effects left by these sequence of events that shaped their family dynamic in this way, and the entire emotional core of the first game is about Oswald letting go of his grudge against Mickey and Mickey making up for his mistakes by unleashing the Thinner Disaster upon Wasteland.

In the sequel, Epic Mickey 2, Mickey and Oswald have already resolved some of their family problems, so the story attempts to expand upon these themes with the introduction of a second complicated family dynamic in the story, whose members are meant to act as foils to Mickey, Oswald and Walt Disney.

Who am I talking about? I'm talking about the family of Gus, our favourite gremlin grandpa, Gremlin Jamface, a new character who was originally meant to have Markus' role in EM, and Gremlin Prescott, a previously minor side character in the first game who has now been promoted to the role of major side antagonist in this installment.

These three Gremlins and their relationship are meant to neatly parallel the messy family dynamic of our playable characters, so that the story can better showcase Mickey and Oswald's view of trust and need for approval.

It can come off as pretty subtle due to the lack of a climactic resolution for our Gremlins' involvement within the story, but the parallels between the characters are clearly there, and are exactly between:

Walt Disney and Gremlin Gus:

For those of you who are unaware, Gus is, indeed, a father figure to both Prescott and Jamface. Whatever the two of them are actually his biological children is still a point of debate amongst the fanbase; however it's rather irrelevant to our current discussion, as neither Mickey nor Oswald are technically Walt's biological children either.

Gus is also a father figure to all of the Gremlins in Wasteland, who we could use as parallels for the other cartoons that Walt as worked to, such as Snowhite and Sleeping Beauty, but it's admittedly a far-fetched strech.

The thing that we need to keep in mind when talking about the parallels between Walt and Gus is the impact that they had on their kids, as Walt doesn't really have an in-universe personality or explanation for his actions; we, the audience, may know from a meta perspective why Oswald was abandoned for the sake of Mickey, but inside this franchise, as far as the characters are concerned, Walt Disney might have just been an awful dad who abandoned his first kid because he felt like it, I'm not going to use real life history to construct my argument because it feels unfair and rather... out of touch, to say the least?

Anyway, both Gus and Walt are older father figures who end up being mythologised by a lot of characters in the game. They both have two other characters, who are delegated as their closest children, look up to them for sustain. Unfortunately, both of them also ended up neglecting the oldest of said children, leading them to build up anger, while favouring the youngest, but while Walt can no longer make peace with his creations for the trauma they ended up going through due to being dead, Gus, is pretty much still alive, but hasn't yet made peace between his sons due to a series of reasons. Maybe he would have been able to do so in that theoretical third game, but we can only speculate.

Oswald and Gremlin Prescott:

Oswald and Prescott are the two independent older siblings, whose qualities and successes are never fully appreciated by their father figures.

In a way, Prescott is an answer to the question of "What if Oswald adhered to his original role as one of the major EVIL villains of the first game?"

Both Oswald and Prescott are the "rulers" of a forgotten land and their denizens, Oswald is the king of Wasteland and its toons, while Prescott is the lord of the Floatyard and its abandoned rides, a literal wasteland inside of Wasteland.

They are both quite temperamental, but also very intelligent: Oswald meticulously recreated Wasteland in his sanctuary, while Prescott recreated Epic Mickey 1 in the dioramas, which also showcases another trait they have in common, their hopefulness, devotion to their idols, and opposite arcs, Oswald looked up to Walt, while Prescott looked up to Gus; Oswald started out hating Mickey and grew to like him, while Prescott started out loving Mickey and grew to hate him, and eventually they both looked up to the Mad Doctor but were backstabbed by him.

Speaking of the Mad Doctor, both Oswald and Prescott have a similar relationship with him:

Oswald wants to appeal to his surrogate father figure, the Mad Doctor, as compensation for not receiving the approval of his original father, Walt Disney.

Prescott wants to appeal to his surrogate father figure, the Mad Doctor, as compensation for not receiving the approval of his original father, Gremlin Gus.

Mickey and Gremlin Jamface:

Despite Gremlin Jamface not being as noticeable as Prescott or Gus (there are no 2D images of him in the game, besides the cutout of the Mad Doctor's diary), he's still an important character to the game's story, hence why he is present in the level before the final boss fight.

Mickey and Jamface are the youngest siblings, as well as the golden child of their respective families, showering in all the attention of their older siblings.

They are the ones getting all the attention from their parents and the people around them (Jamface is well respected by the Gremlins and the denizens of Wasteland at large, and Mickey is loved by his friends and the general audience)

I could go on and on into further details, but I'd rather keep this section short and I think I've made my point.

So, these characters are clearly meant to be foils, what does this mean? Well, you see I think the reasons why said relationships were set in place was for the game to expand on them with its story; I'm not sure how the rewrites affected things, but I believe the general plan was always to further explore a messy family dynamic and how that affects all of its members.

Admittedly, Walt Disney himself should have been a bigger part of the game story if that was the case, but I'm strictly sticking to what we got.

The Second chances (redemption?) theme.

Despite what one of the brush's main mechanics of befriending the enemies through paint might actually tell you, the Epic Mickey series never started to seriously entertain the idea of "redemption" until the second game, which makes sense, since Paint and Thinner were never strict representations of good and evil in the first game.

In fact, while the Thinner Disaster was caused by, well, Thinner, the Blot himself was created and made evil not by Thinner, but by Paint.

Paint and Thinner, while in different ways, are both equally responsible for the situation Wasteland is in at the start of the series: Mickey's curiosity and lack of an understanding of their powers is what caused all of the problems at the start of the EM1, and it's only by mastering their abilities that we, the player, and by extension Mickey, manage to finally put an end to them once and for all.

Paint, much like Thinner, is portrayed more as an utilitarian tool rather than a moralistic one; painting enemies is less about redeeming them for the sake of making them good and more so about the utility that you can get out of turning them to your side.

It's also why the Clocktower battle canonically ends with the Thinner solution: you are not actually meant to use only Paint or Thinner as the answer to all of your problems.

Anyway, in Epic Mickey 2, the writers tried to tie the paint and thinner mechanic to the ideas of redemption and second chances introduced in this second chapter.

Whether or not the final implementation is something worthy of existing, I'll leave it up to you; sorry, I'm too tired.

The Thrust Theme:

Finally talking about the Mad Doctor, his similarities with the Blot makes me think that just like him, he was meant to embody the game's conflict with thrust and fatherhood.

Let me explain: what makes The Blot such a memorable villain despite having literally zero personality or speaking lines is the fact that he is the embodiment of conflict inside of the game; every single theme, every single world building element, every character drama always ties back to him somehow, making it impossible to dismiss as just a massive threat for the protagonists to overcome.

I believe the writers were trying to write the Mad Doctor into the exact same position that the Blot filled, and on top of that, he was also written as another foil for Mickey since:

- They both created an army of monsters and "technically" lost control over it: Mickey created the Splatters, and Mad Doctor created the Blot Works.

In particular, the Blot Works Dragon seems a parallel to the Blot itself. I wouldn't say the Dragon is a one for one with the Blot, but he does have similarities with him indeed (also, in the first game, the Blot's design was inspired by Maleficent's dragon form at the end of Sleeping Beauty, aka where Dark Beauty castle comes from, and the first boss of Epic Mickey 2 is a dragon, so there's enough evidence at our disposal to make said claim).

- They both want to get out of Wasteland, but Mickey was already out, was forced to go to Wasteland due to the Blot, eventually got out thanks to his selflessness, and chose to re-enter Wasteland to help his friends, even if he couldn't come out of it in the end; while Mad Doctor was originally out before ending up in Wasteland, chose to work with the Blot, betrayed and manipulated everybody who trusted him in order to exit the place, and in the end, that either leads to his demise or to a change in his worldview.

- They both have Guardians, even if the Mad Doctor stole them.

- They were both first seen as villains in the eyes of Wasteland's denizens, and it's only after they help restore the place and fix their previous mistakes that they are able to gain people's trust, even if the Mad Doctor ends up betraying said hopes.

And finally, both of these characters are connected to the theme of thrust in some way, shape or form.

Mickey gained Oswald's thrust, but he later betrayed it because he didn't reveal that he was the one behind the Thinner Disaster. Guess who else did something similar?

Anyway, sorry if this seems like a very inconclusive ramble instead of an analysis, I've lost passion for this project a while ago due to outside events. Feel free to add to what I have said, and share your opinions and observations with everybody.

[saerins]

⋆୨ chapter one ୧˚ thorns without flowers, bars with no drinks

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: prologue - all see through just like glass <> next: chapter two - a million miles away, still you connect me in your way ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 5k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, hostility on sae’s part, profanity, your marriage is not off to a very good start, both yn and sae both have other … options. | notes: ty i appreciate all of you who are reading this <3 i added everyone who asked to be tagged ^_^ lemme know if i missed you !!

The day has finally arrived. After two months of painstaking preparations, it’s your special day today. Not that your parents have given you any say on your own special day. You wonder if your future husband got the same treatment too. That is, if he was even interested in it.

Everyone has arrived, the chefs are ready, people are dressed to the nines, photographers are already snapping away. More than half the guests, most of which you barely know, have come to speak to you, to congratulate you, but it all still feels so surreal.

Is this really happening?

There’s a lot of important people in attendance today, a lot of them you don’t even know personally. Which is funny, considering that it’s your wedding. Of course, both sets of parents were in charge of the invites, and your actual friends probably only account for fifteen percent of the entire list. (With Sae’s friends, probably totaling thirty percent.) The rest are spaces filled by people in power—political, business, what have you. It’s no surprise; your parents (and you guess Sae’s as well) are great at networking, and of course these people would attend such an event—two kids of rivalling companies getting married would signify a possibly huge shift in market share, and they’d probably like to be here to witness for themselves if this is some sort of sham. If this lasts, then they’ll have to move their money around, that’s for sure.

It is kind of a sham, but you’re trying to get that out of your head. This can’t possibly be anything but a ruse to further their own gains. Parents are like that, as much as you know.

“Hey, are you sure about this? There’s still time to back out, you know?”

Beside you, your ever observant younger sister offers you a sad smile; a product of the guilt she feels because despite you not telling her, she knows you’re just trying to keep the crosshairs away from her. She must’ve realised that your feet are colder than you thought. But as far as you’re concerned, better you than her.

She has a happy relationship with one of the nicest guys she’s ever met, and the last time you’d spoken to him, he’d confessed to wanting to marry her. The only downside to it all is that your sister is way too filial—if your parents tried to force her to get married to someone of their choice, she’d give in eventually, and you don’t want that.

Besides, you don’t have anyone. No love interest, no potential suitors—what’s the worst that could happen to you? As long as Sae is decent enough of a human being, you’re sure you’ll be fine.

“I’m sure, so don’t worry about me, okay?” Your hands come up to her shoulders, squeezing slightly, offering your best and most radiant smile.

Sensing that there’s only more of your dear sister’s worry coming, you’re grateful that a timely knock comes from the doorway. You hold back a sigh of relief before turning to look at your visitor, and you stiffen up when you realise who it is.

“Is this a bad time?”

Your sister speaks up before you do. “Oh, Itoshi Sae, of course not!” There’s a sense of excitement in her voice that masks her earlier concern; it’s kind of sad that the art of faking is a necessity of living in the world you do. It’s one of the essential skills. You either fake it or face consequences. “I’m all done here, you two should talk.”

With that, she bounces out of the room, and you wonder just what kind of thoughts she’s having—her happiness is kind of infectious. Sure, Reo had said countless times that if Sae was ever a dick to you, he’d punch him in the guts for you. So far, he doesn’t have to. It’s nice that he made the time to visit you before the ceremony, it’d be nice to meet just once before after all.

“Hi, um, it’s nice to meet you.” It’s the best you can do when you’re halfway gaping at how good your future husband looks. There’s nothing that needs to be said for his face; his red-brown hair frames his face just nice, his teal eyes makes it feel like he can see right through you, and those naturally long lashes of his makes you envious. He’s wearing a simple black tux—but you know there’s nothing simple about the price tag. Not for his tux, nor for your couture wedding dress. He still looks handsome all the same, and you realise now why so many girls seem to be all over him from all those forums you’d been reading up on.

Still, as charming as he looks, he makes you slightly uncomfortable with that especially long silence, your eyes falling on his gaze, his teal eyes seeming like they’re posing you silent questions. You remain quiet, waiting for his next move. It’s almost like you submit by default.

Some foolish part of you, the hopeless romantic, is hoping you and him can hit it off right away, but even you know that’s asking for too much. Sae proves you right when he finally opens his mouth.

“I wanted to set things straight before we go through with anything.”

Just like that, with just those few words, Sae has managed to strip all the hope out of you. Nothing good can come out of those words, coupled with that monotonous tone of his. This isn’t the face of a man who’s happy to get married, and certainly not one of a man who is even willing.

Though, can you really say you are?

“I only said yes because I was forced to,” Sae tells you, not explaining more than he needs to. The line is drawn—thick with a black marker, something you can’t miss even if you wanted to. “Just play your part, act happy, and you can drop the act once we’re done with this today.”

There’s something in his bossy attitude that doesn’t sit right with you, but you’re too busy being disappointed in yourself to do anything about it. All you allow is a nod, because even without Sae saying it, you had planned to give your biggest smile later anyway, no matter how fake it is. Thing is, you had imagined that Sae was less… hostile than this. Honestly, maybe you had been hoping for him to at least put some effort into liking the situation, but from how he is now, it doesn’t look like it at all.

“Okay then, see you.”

Sae barely looks at you before he turns and walks off toward the door, right about to turn the corner when he’s stopped by your parents. Of course, they’re more than delighted to see him. They’d been convincing you hard to this arranged marriage, claiming how you’re so horrible at romance that they really are just pushing you to do this so they can have an heir early. If you ever did have a child, you can only be sure how you want to not treat them like. Your parents can be credited for that.

“You look wonderful, Sae!” Your mother is already gushing over Sae’s look as your father has his arm around him, pulling him back to the door.

“So, this is the first time you’re meeting our Y/N right? What do you think, son?” Your father has his Client Services voice switched on—after seeing him work all this time, you can distinguish it in an instant. You wonder if Sae can.

In front of your parents, you’re shocked to see that he’s already putting on an act. There’s a very subtle smile on his face—something that seems so soft and secretive, something that looks like it’s meant to be viewed by exclusive people only—and you find your own heart skipping a beat. You wonder if anyone’s ever been so lucky to be able to see that naturally.

“Your daughter is…” Sae trails off, and you find yourself swallowing the lump in your throat, inwardly asking. yourself why on earth would his opinion matter to you at all. “Pretty.”

It’s a simple word, with an even simpler meaning, and Sae doesn’t even mean it, but you find a heat creeping up your cheeks and you’re not sure why it’s so easy to appease you.

��You’re hopeless, you know that?” Reo says later on, after your parents and Sae have headed off somewhere and Reo takes their place.

Covering your head with your hands, you groan, absolutely annoyed with yourself. “Is it so wrong that I just want my future husband to remotely like me even just a little bit?”

Reo sighs, wondering what kind of luck you have to be born into a family where that isn’t even possible. Usually, people marry someone after they dated them for a while. After they can ascertain they’re good for them and that they have the capacity to put them first. Somehow, you’d been stripped of that because your parents, of all people, are the ones encouraging you to get married to someone who doesn’t love you. Hell, they even know that you and Sae don’t even know each other.

It’s pitiful, really. You’re a nice person, and Reo would shake you and convince you not to do this if he could, but it’s not like you can afford anyone to lose faith in you. If they do, how will you keep up your act? So, he’ll play his part as your best friend and just support you—he’ll deal with Sae separately if he ever dares to treat you horribly.

“Does he even know how to be nice to people?” You ponder out loud, whining, pouting as you gaze at nothing at all, the ticking of the clock making you more nervous by the second.

The wedding ceremony is half an hour away now.

Reo takes a seat beside you, leaning an elbow against your dresser. “Hmm, I heard about him from friends of friends—but all of them say he’s more of an asshole than your average person,” Reo fills you in, though you probably guessed that by yourself.

Of course, he chooses not to disclose the fact that Sae has an alleged ex he can’t get over, because what good would that do you? You’ll just get all FBI-mode and try to find her socials and find reasons you’ll never measure up and say shit like maybe that’s why Sae isn’t interested in you.

Still, you look like a hot mess and Reo has to encourage you somehow, or else you’ll end up walking up that aisle like you’re marrying Lord Farquaad. “Oi, Y/N, what I hear is he’s just a tough nut to crack.”

“I get it, Reo, I’ll probably end up talking to the wall everyday at home since my husband won’t even talk to me.”

Reo rolls his eyes, pressing his lips into a firm line and putting his hands on your shoulders, taking care not to shake you or else your hairdo will come off and he’ll have your hairdresser absolutely seething. He’s not about to try and owe her anything or else he’ll end up bald just from having to offer her a wig.

“Hey, he’s just a tough nut to crack,” he repeats, and he sighs in exasperation when you still don’t get it. “So crack him, stupid. You’re good at that, right?”

Your eyes widen at Reo’s insinuation, and even more so when you realise it’s an actual good attempt at trying to encourage you. You crack a small laugh and Reo smiles along with you—he thinks that smile looks the best on you.

“If you can crack Nagi of all people, who’s Itoshi Sae?” Reo affirms. Nagi Seishiro, the son of the dean back when all of you were in university, who wanted for nothing except laying in bed all day and playing games, somehow managed to show an interest in helping his mother with her business, and it’s all because of you. Reo still doesn’t know how you did it, but all he knows is that you’re probably magic. (No, he knows you definitely are. You were, once, his once upon a time after all.)

His words stay with you even as you walk down the aisle fifteen minutes later, arm looped around your father’s.

“Be a good wife, okay?” Your father’s words break you out of your reverie. It isn’t the normal way a father would show concern for his child. No, the way he says it is cold and sinister, like it’s a threat. He reminds you why you’ve never had a good relationship with him. “If you screw this up, we’ll all have hell to pay.”

Trust your father to drop a bomb on you right before he passes you to Sae, who receives you with a polite nod. Perhaps, his original reaction is to have no reaction at all—is that nod his form of ‘acting’?

“Dearly beloved, we are all gathered here today—”

The words are lost on you as you try to keep your head in the present. Different thoughts are invading your head from different places that you almost feel overwhelmed from the mess. You can see Sae right in front of you, staring at you, and all you can think of is how you’re going to get along with someone who looks like he doesn’t want to. Growing up with a distant father and a far-too-subservient mother gives you anxiety—what if you end up just like that? Aside from that, instead of the holy words of matrimony, all you can hear is your father’s words repeating themselves in your head.

Hell to pay? Why, exactly? Why did he let go of the flimsy excuse of simply wanting to be his daughter’s matchmaker? What’s he talking about when he involves you in a possible blowback? What’s going on?

“Anytime now, princess.”

Sae’s hushed voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you scramble to gather yourself. “Yes, I do.”

For some reason, Sae’s hands are now around yours, and the glimmer of the diamond on your ring finger reminds you of the gravity of what you’re doing. You’re getting married—to someone you barely know, for a reason you’re somehow not privy to. You’re signing away your life to be with someone who made it clear he’s definitely not interested, who views you as a chore before he bothers to get to know you.

It all terrifies you, if only because this was not what you ever envisioned for yourself. In the audience, you see Reo’s vibrant purple eyes looking at you, a confident smile on his face, nodding as though telling you that you’ve got this. In some ways, it’s reassuring, because once upon a time, you’d thought of Reo as your Prince Charming.

In front of you—not completely oblivious to your subtle actions: trembling fingers, eyes flicking over to that purple-haired boy in the front row, your shallow breathing—Sae puts a gentle hand on your cheek, slowly guiding you to look straight at him. For his part, he has to at least make this believable, to make his parents believe that he’ll follow through with this for years and years so that they’ll never have to bother Rin. Unfortunately for you, you’re his ticket to that end. Like it or not, both of you are in this together.

“Try to look like you’re happy, at least,” Sae breathes against your lips, a soft curve on his lips just for show, as he slowly presses his lips against your own, a satisfaction washing over him as he feels you kiss him back.

Great, step one is done. Now, for the rest of the wedding.

It’s a tough sell. During the reception, you’re acutely aware of how awkward you and Sae are around each other. He tries, occasionally tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, or offering to feed you food. It’s only because there’s a lot of eyes on both of you.

His hand on your back feels foreign, and forced, and you can’t help feeling sad that he’s not someone who cares for you. The only thing tiding you through is that it’s not necessarily that way for you too.

“You’re a horrible actress,” he whispers, low so only you can hear. He’s right, too. You really do suck at this. “If you don’t at least look happy, we’re both in trouble.”

As if you need a reminder. In some ways, his attitude is similar to your father’s, and not in a good way. It only serves to make his touch more alien.

“Hey, look who’s here,” you hear a very boisterous voice approaching.

A quick turn of your head and you can see who you assume to be Sae’s friends, because surely they’re not yours. The one approaching first looks older, dark hair with green tips, behind him another one with blonde hair and wild pink highlights.

“Hello there, beautiful,” the first one says, reaching out to grab your hand and place a kiss on the back of it.

With a click of his tongue, Sae yanks his hand off of you. “Stop playing, Oliver.”

Oliver. That name sounds oddly familiar.

“At least I wasn’t like Mr Embarrassing here who spilled the wine all over one of the bridesmaids.”

Mr Embarrassing cocks a brow, ready to challenge Oliver. But before either of them can say anything more, Sae cuts in.

“These are my friends—”

“I’m Oliver Aiku,” he introduces himself, properly reaching out his hand this time now, waiting for you to take it at your own pace. 

You stare at him dumbly for a moment before shaking it. “As in, the law firm?”

“At your service,” Oliver smirks.

Of course one of Sae’s friends is the son of the most influential law firms in the whole of Japan. Right as you’re still collecting yourself, Oliver nudges Mr Embarrassing.

Looking completely disinterested, he sighs. “Ryusei Shidou.”

“As in,” you pause for a while, afraid you might be wrong. “As in… the governor Shidou?”

Annoyed, Shidou nods anyway, and Oliver begins to tell you to excuse him because he’s in a shitty mood but you’re not really hearing any of that.

Holy crap. So that must be the infamous son of the governor, the one he keeps carefully hidden away from prying eyes. Given how he’s behaving, and how he looks completely unlike a… typical person here, you’re not that surprised. That’s probably just how tradition is, in their family. Much like how you and the Itoshis have their own as well.

The rest of the celebration goes uneasily, your anxiety forever creeping up your spine, threatening to unravel itself and have you running off to Reo for some sense of familiarity—but that won’t look well: new bride choosing to spend the entire celebration with her best friend instead of her new husband? That’ll just bode a scandal for all three of you, and with this many influential people in the room, from governors to influencers, that’s the dumbest move you can make.

“Well, you two look absolutely beautiful together!”

After your first dance, the Itoshis approach you, both of them seemingly happy on the surface, but given how Sae absentmindedly tightens his grip around your hand, you’re not so sure you should believe in the superficial. Right, because you of all people should know the complications that come with being children of such parents.

It’s like Sae realises what he’s doing before he drops your hand, acting like nothing happened at all.

“Sae. What did we discuss?” The way his father calls his name is absolutely sinister. If you didn’t know any better, you swear they feel like absolute strangers.

Fortunately for you, some other guests come by and steal their attention, both of them relegating to one of the other tables. Beside you, Sae’s jaw is clenched—he’s lost any interest in faking anything for now.

Still, you suppose, if you’re going to get along with him, you probably have to try to reach out… right? Steeling your resolve, you place your hand over his, squeezing it a little, “what was that—”

Without even letting you finish, Sae yanks his hand away, and for the first time today, you’re seeing some genuine emotion behind his eyes. 

And they’re not kind. They’re pretty, but they’re ice cold—the veins on his temple are prominent now, and he really doesn’t care if anyone sees.

“You’re my wife, only on paper,” he hisses through his teeth, still cautious in keeping his voice down. His frustration doesn’t know its boundaries, choosing to take this anger out on you. “Stop trying to poke your nose into my fucking business, we’re strangers, and that’s all we’ll ever be. Drop the act, I’m done for today.”

Just like that, he storms off, which doesn’t quite particularly cause a ruse because for a wedding held for the both of you, there’s not a lot of people here that actually care for either of you. It’s as though this wedding is just a pathetic excuse for a larger-scale networking session.

Feeling even more pathetic yourself, you make sure nobody’s looking before you slip away, retreating to the rooftop garden—you need some fresh air after being so uprightly rejected by your on-paper husband.

Back in the dressing room, Sae locks the door behind him, knowing full well you didn’t deserve to be on the other end of his temper but not being able to bring himself to just apologise. Just as well, he figures. From the looks of it, you seemed pretty hopeful for the bare minimum being a good relationship but Sae can’t see it.

He catches his reflection in the mirror, barely recognising himself. A year ago, getting married wasn’t even in his radar. He’d thought of it before, sure, but would never have guessed in his wildest dreams that he’d get married to you of all people. 

There’s always an agenda for why his parents force these things on their children. If he was a shittier brother, he’d have let them drag Rin back for all he cared. But maybe it’s the way he can’t bear for them to ruin yet another dream that he so easily gave in. Or maybe he thought that this idea wouldn’t be so bad in the first place, maybe it’ll give him the chance to want to move past certain things.

Evidently, it’s not working well.

You’re pretty, and that’s something he didn’t lie about. You really are, but that’s all he can say. He can’t say he sees anything, any hope, any reason for him to want this to work out.

Sae sits down on one corner of the bed, pulling his phone out. He scoffs upon realising he doesn’t even have your number. What kind of fucked up marriage is this? Nothing was handled for either of you, so it’s safe to say that the only thing either set of parents cared about was that this went through. 

As he looks through his phone, contemplating whether to ask Oliver or Shidou to think of an excuse to let him bail from the celebrations before it ends, a text comes in, and this time, all the anger and disappointment disappears, all that’s left is the warm feeling of nostalgia and familiarity.

The contact he hasn’t seen in his notifications for a few years now lights up his phone, and all of a sudden he feels somewhat better. Though, her message itself makes him feel complicated inside.

Sae types a couple of responses, staring at it for a few moments before rephrasing himself and sending it through.

Hours later, after the celebrations are done and both of you are forced to drive back to your new apartment together, you sit in the passenger seat, staring out the window as Sae drives, sitting in complete silence.

As much as you want to save what this marriage could be, you’re not sure where to even start after how he flared up earlier.

Sae keeps his eyes on the road, too enveloped in his own thoughts to bother even turning on the music. His eyes occasionally flick over to your figure. Your fingers are trembling. Are you scared of this all or are you just feeling cold? Either way, he can’t bring himself to care. All he cares about right now is just finding a way out of this stupid farce.

After a fifteen-minute drive, both of you arrive at the apartment building; sleek black walls on the front and twenty-storeys high. Each floor is an apartment in itself, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that only the rich and wealthy stay here. By extension, that means your neighbours are either going to be complete strangers who don’t bother each other, or annoying young kids who host parties and have to be complained against.

Both of you head up to the top floor, neither of you knowing what it’ll look like—it was a gift from both your parents, saying how they picked out the best of the best for their children, and then periodically joking about wanting grandchildren. (You and Sae had completely ignored that part of the conversation.) Sae let you carry your heavy bags on your own, choosing to avoid any sort of eye contact all the way up. He’s just busy on his phone, and you can’t help feeling a little lost.

When you reach the top floor, Sae opens up the door; it’s made of heavy mahogany, slamming right back at you after he strolls in. You take a deep breath, pushing on the door to open and barely making it in, sucking it up because the last thing you want after an entirely shitty day is to have an argument.

Sae doesn’t even stop, just keeps walking, placing his suitcase in what seems to be the master bedroom. Truthfully, you wouldn’t know; this is the first time you’re even seeing the apartment. This entire place is huge, and thanks to this being on the top floor, there’s two floors and a high ceiling. All crisp and clean, walls a bright white, full contrast to the outer walls of the apartment.

Ten seconds later, Sae comes back out, finally making eye contact as he looks at you like you’re dumb for just standing there. If he does think that, he doesn’t say it out loud.

“There’s another room at the far end down the hall, you can use that one,” he tells you, matter-of-factly, as though you wouldn’t retort. (You don’t, but it’s annoying that he takes it as a given.) “And there’s only one key, but I’ll make a copy tomorrow and pass it to you.”

How romantic. The first night of your new life together and he’s relegated you to the far end of the house to sleep alone. You’re sure it wouldn’t be past him to enforce a rule of minimum contact at this point.

“Yeah, sure.”

You’re trying not to make a big deal out of this, because what would it even amount to? It’s not like you can get out of this, or else what’ll that do? Just impact your sister. But still, it completely sucks that your husband isn’t someone you love, isn’t someone who even wants to give it a shot, isn’t someone who’s willing to make himself bearable to live with.

An exhausted sigh leaves Sae’s lips as he tosses the keys onto a tray placed carefully atop the kitchen island. “I don’t think I need to remind you, but I didn’t want this and I think neither do you,” he says, his eyebags more apparent now that some of his makeup has caked off. “So I’ll keep out of your way if you keep out of mine.”

Spoken as if he truly hates your guts.

The wariness from everything that happened earlier—the wedding, the entertaining, the scepticism, your unwilling husband. What’s supposed to be a typically happy occasion has drained the complete life out of you, though it deigns to strip your hope entirely. Some nauseatingly optimistic cell in your brain is telling you that you still have to try, that it takes longer for some people to warm up to you, that if you give up then this might really just be it for the rest of your life.

So you nod your head and force a smile, even when Sae doesn’t return it, even when you know he won’t. “Mhm, okay,” you say, obediently, even though Sae just looks on at you emotionlessly, the only sliver of human that you see in him being the slight furrow of his brows. When he turns to walk back to his room, you call a goodnight! to him. All it gets you is a grunt of acknowledgement before he slams the door once he’s in.

Trudging your bags behind you, you dump them on the floor of your bedroom. The walls are pearly white, and the dresser is huge, a top-to-bottom mirror rests on the wall next to the closet. There’s even a bathroom inside, too, though you’d bet it’s smaller than the one Sae’s room has. 

It’s all very nice. Expensive, like the suite of a five-star hotel, and decorated lavishly.

But that’s all this is.

Nice. On the surface. It’s nice only to the eyes. Yet it can’t shake the foreboding feeling inside you that nags at you, warning you that Sae is just going to get even worse as you go.

Right as you’re about to spiral into a descent, you get a text from Reo.

You smile at his offer. Maybe if this was a few years ago. Maybe if both of you had acted on it when you knew the feelings were there. It’s been too long since then, everything that could’ve been is not—but what is doesn’t seem to have any hope of working out. 

Sighing to yourself, you make a mental reminder in your head to keep trying tomorrow. After all, you’re probably the only hope this sham of a marriage has at making it.

taglist: @kimvmarvel @mxplesyrvp @yuzurins @futuristicxie @kiopanxp @k0z3me @y-sabell-a @sae1toshilover @xoxojisu @karmatiz @sagejin @minnieminnie00-got7 @hearts4heidi @shiinobu-x @n1uh @prepchuu @leeyzhuo @shidouryusm @kaiserkisser

[zahri-melitor]

Tim Drake: Robin

So as a title, I have to say I can see what Meghan Fitzmartin was trying to get at, and I don’t mind the story as is. I think I would categorise it as a flawed story with interesting ideas, where part of the issue is that MegFitz ran out of space for the stories she wanted to tell, and part of the issue is as I’ve already said, the entire run could use the writing being more explicit and explanatory. Plus, it’s definitely suffering from its second plot getting cut off abruptly by cancellation – there was clearly 2 issues just yanked out, that would have provided some much needed pacing and complexity to the story.

Also Bernard, despite the development that finally arrives in issue 7, still remains somewhat of a cipher as far as personality goes the whole way through, and there conflict and the stakes in this story are so so low. So incredibly low. Everything is just too pat.

Structurally, I did like issue 7, framing it via restaurant meal courses, and us finally getting a peep at Bernard’s perspective on matters. And what we get is at least something, though it’s still pretty minimal. Bernard has drama with his parents, who if you read in (and this is the thing about so much of Fitzmartin’s writing, you have to read into the implications and hope you’re getting the ones she’s laying down) don’t like that he’s dating a guy, and also don’t like that Bernard is studying to be a chef. There’s a fairly oblique joke in the text where Tim says “you’d think they’d be proud that their kid is majoring in physics and biology”, where a friend read it as “Bernard is studying for a double major in science PLUS studying to be a chef on top of this” and I personally read it as “Tim is joking with Bernard over the fact that his parents are mad that he’s got an apprenticeship in food services rather than going to university as he was expected to, because learning to cook involves both practical physics and practical biology”. Which is supposed to be the correct reading? I can’t tell! Because Fitzmartin doesn’t spell it out!

Bernard’s parents basically being the Fanon Drakes who are mad that Bernard is not Living Up To Their Expectations (and also his parents are basically on the verge of divorce and living in separate rooms now and his mother had a single tear and begged Bernard to come home via text message to help shore up her marriage or whatever) is mildly amusing except for the way in which I find it exhausting because it just feels like straight fanfic tropes.

Bernard’s also clearly not over whatever it was that sent him in the direction of the pain cult and the chaos monsters, and he doesn’t want to talk about it. But our problem is that this should cause some sort of drama, and yet the only result is that Bernard’s like ‘I can’t/won’t help you’, and Tim accepts this and never inquires further.

Also as other people have said, ‘Bernard knows and Tim doesn’t know Bernard knows, and they never discuss this or have this cause any tension between them’ is honestly the most boring possible beat set up. If you’re going to play with levels of who knows what you need to give it stakes! Have Tim stressing about hiding things from Bernard and how that affects his relationship! Have Tim think about why he can’t tell Bernard! Have situations that read one way to Tim and another to Bernard! Have a reason that Bernard’s just patiently waiting for Tim to get around to revealing the secret to him! I like having characters who are playing identity porn with each other and hiding things and going “Bernard knows who Tim is and Tim sort of knows that Bernard knows but Bernard doesn’t know that Tim has realised that Bernard has clued in” or whatever.

The story very occasionally starts things that could actually cause some drama or stakes to emerge (the ‘Tim is dating Robin and does this cause drama with Bernard!’ moment. Kate and Tim having conflict over the chaos monsters and whether or not this is a Religion of Crime problem and if she’s been brainwashed. Etc) but then happily glides past them without digging in to actually cause that drama.

I’m also somewhat disappointed that the outcome of ‘when did everyone have realisations that they liked boys’ is ‘both Tim and Bernard realised this in the course of the pain cult date actually’. Which…eh. It’s very very ‘I never felt this way about someone before I met you, we’re not gay we just love each other’. Tim claims he never suspected it about Bernard when he was younger and Bernard claims he always suspected, which, tbh, in the context of things we do know Tim can be somewhat oblivious about these things (see Fitzmartin’s ‘I didn’t know what I was feeling’ about Kon’s death), but really Bernard? You when you were in full ‘compulsory heterosexuality, I just love women so much, why does Tim keep having girls be friends with him and want to date him’ mode, you suspected Tim liked boys? Because while I certainly can point to a lot of things over the course of Tim’s Robin run, the closest we come to anything in Willingham’s run is Tim telling Bernard his girlfriend goes to another school. Which, in the context of Tim just transferring into a new school is not that unbelievable, even in the classic stakes of ‘oh you don’t know her, she goes to another school’ girlfriends. It’s just…the boring path.

And I think that sums up a lot of this run. It’s got some interesting potential hooks. But almost without exception, whenever there comes an option between a choice that would cause drama and character development potential, or there’s a pat boring noncontroversial path, the story picks the latter. And there’s only so much nicey nice ‘don’t do anything that might be controversial, two boys dating is already controversial enough’ that I can take.

I wouldn’t have minded it if the run had been given more space, but honestly what I think it needed was getting handed over to a new writer to have a go and give a different perspective. And we haven’t had that.

[cillianmurphysdimples]

DISCLAIMER - This is a fictional, fanciful, and completely non-serious fanfiction. Nothing here is based on real life at all, nor do I wish it to be. The completely made up story is entirely for fun, and not meant in any offence nor insinuation upon the lives of those 'borrowed' for this story - not in their real life or the real-world. Please do not read or engage if you are not willing or able to suspend all expectations of reality to involve yourself in the story. I fully appreciate this may not be to your tastes. I absolutely do not mind those who often read my stories completely missing this one.

WARNINGS & TAGS - for mature audiences, contains potentially offensive language and innuendo, m/m relationship, fictional ship pairing of celebrities, established m/m relationship.

Banner lovingly made by @cherrycilly

Nor Any Greater Punishment

Cillian Murphy x Christopher Nolan Fanfiction

PART TWO Cillian is lulled into a sense of security by a change in Christopher's behaviour, thinking the turmoil of their misunderstandings and words has been finally quashed. But he goes over his own concerns silently, worrying he'll see another repeat. Cillian is blindsided and embarrassed by the change of behaviour, though, when it comes.

“Okay, cut. Thank you.” Chris called out, and suddenly the stern faces of those in the scene were softened, and tightly held positions were suspended.

Cillian cleared his throat and turned to Emily with a tired but warm smile. Emily nudged him playfully against his side, “God, I actually thought you were going to laugh just then.” She chuckled, “I was poised for you to be getting into trouble with Dad!” 

Cillian rolled his eyes, shaking his head at her teasing. “Don't want that row, now.” He intoned. 

Emily's expression changed, “Was it no better off set?” She asked, though she knew well enough Cillian was not likely to give her details for the sake of conversation. She raised her eyebrows when Cillian just looked back at her wordlessly. “Sorry,” she apologised after a moment. “Not my business.” 

Cillian shook his head, “It's not that.” He insisted, glancing around him at the bodies that moved back and forth, busy with their own roles now that the cast were paused.

“I am only…checking in? The way it went yesterday, the way he spoke to you - it hit everyone, so I imagine it hit you?” Emily asked, not realising she was still pushing him to speak about his personal life by continuing to ask him. 

Cillian pushed a smile to his angular cheeks, “It's fine.” He said calmly. “He's entirely different today, isn't he? You know what it's like, and what he's like by now, Emily. Focus, don't fuck around.” He smirked. Cillian pulled up the waistband of his high-waisted grey trousers, hitching them higher over his barely there waist and hips. 

Chris' words last night were still somewhat awkwardly ambling around his mind - was he looking badly, despite this being a temporary thing? Was his image right now a problem for Chris? Was that some of the issue - that he was looking at him now and not liking the person in front of him, despite the reasons? Not to mention the entire argument regarding Robert and the workday had only really simmered down, without a genuine end or full resolution. He'd apologised, sure, but it hadn't lasted more than a few minutes before he raised his disrespectful retorts to Cillian once again. He had spent the night sleeping on the sofa - mostly because he had fallen asleep there when he'd sat down after his bath. He'd woken up to a blanket thrown over him and his phone, that had been left on the floor beside his shoes, having been plugged in. But he also woke up to the perpetuation of the atmosphere of the day before, except in the place of bad temper and aggression was the silent treatment. He was nervous and tetchy, fearful of upsetting Chris further, and desperate to fix their spat to better facilitate a happy environment all around. His texts had gone ignored - read but unanswered, he knew, as he'd seen him checking the device - and leaving the hotel room that morning had not included so much as a hand on the shoulder. 

Emily turned to Cillian with a more serious expression. “Cill, my darling, you two are on the long stretch before you are colleagues, remember that. If there's a problem that's lingering both at home and at work, then it's a problem that needs addressing. And forgive me, Cillian, but it isn't just his annoyance over a perceived lack of focus yesterday.” She raised her eyebrows, calling bullshit. “I saw your face, everyone saw it, and not one person on the cast or crew within a bloody mile could miss hearing the anger he spat. That's not a ‘Christopher Nolan being dedicated to his craft’ thing.” 

“Emily,” Cillian shook his head and his face seemed to firm up without him realising it. “I appreciate what you're trying to do, but please don't. Work is work, home is nobody's business. He knows he was wrong for yesterday, he apologised to me and to you all. So why are we dwelling on it?” 

Emily felt suitably scolded and she held out both of her hands before her, placating him. “I don't mean to intrude, Cillian. I was just trying to offer… I don't know what I was offering, I'm sorry. You're right, I shouldn't be mentioning it.” She dropped her arms and gave him a gentle and friendly smile. “But can I say one thing?” Cillian raised his eyebrows and his bother at the conversation was clear, as was him attempting to remain as charming and patient as he always endeavoured to be. “If that is the way you're spoken to in public, you'll forgive people having concerns about how you're addressed in private.” 

Cillian scoffed a sarcastic sort of laugh. “What's that supposed to mean? Our relationship is no different to yours and John's. Ups and downs, and the longer you're together the more familiar you become. He isn't verbally abusing me twenty four hours a day, and it isn't the case that I'm such a pushover, or so helpless that I wouldn't respond in kind if he did. Whatever your intentions, Emily, it doesn't matter. You're interfering and prying, and your insinuations on our relationship aren't wanted or needed.” His response was harsh, catty even, and he could see by the look on Emily's face that it had been unexpected, too. He stood for a moment and then he walked away. He knew full well it would infuriate Chris, but he walked away from the immediate set in search of the first available toilet, purely as a direction to head in, and didn't say a word to anyone as he vanished from view. 

Dumbfounded, Emily glanced around her. This sort of reaction or behaviour was definitely atypical of Cillian, and it did nothing to assuage the concerns she had been attempting to raise with him as delicately as she could. She folded her arms under her bust as Chris approached her, preparing to offer direction for what was next, and fixed her expression to as neutral as she could. “Great, so… where's…” Chris looked around, hoping to answer his own question before he'd even finished asking it. 

“Loo, I think.” Emily smiled. “He knocks back the coffee to compensate for the lack of snacks.” She joked lightly. Still looking around, Chris merely hummed in response. “What were you going to say?” She encouraged, smiling again when Chris finally stopped scanning the room and looked at her directly. 

“Better wait for him to get back,” Chris said, sounding disinterested. “Nothing worse than repeating yourself.”

“He's quiet today,” Emily said, making idle conversation and perhaps, subconsciously, ebbing away at her own concerns that weren't answered by Cillian. 

Chris frowned at her, taking her almost-question as an observation - and a blatant one at that. “When is he loud?” He countered with a little humour.

Emily smiled, “Quieter than usual.” She elaborated. “I really think it's draining him at this point, Chris, the diet he has himself on.” She didn't want to raise what she had been braver breeching with Cillian - Chris' reactions yesterday had told her that she wouldn't like the reaction she would be met with if Chris took the same offence that Cillian had. 

“Well, don't suggest he eats anything more substantial,” Chris said, eyes cast down to the battered script in his hands. “It'll only start a fire.” 

“Speaking from experience?” Emily kept a little lightness in her voice as she took the opportunity to push further, despite her reservations, seeing as Chris had volunteered some detail himself. But he didn't reply - whether that was in ignorance or not actually hearing her in his focus on the papers before him, she wasn't sure - and the moment was then lost as Cillian walked back into the set, followed by someone yelling out to Chris the inform him of Cillian's return. 

Chris looked up and turned his head to his left as Cillian approached. “Three bathroom trips in two hours is remarkable.” He said with his eyebrows raised just slightly. But he had a small smile on his lips, and part of Cillian wondered if this was him applying his own rule for the workplace. If it was, it was a good sign, but it didn't erase the silence of the night and morning. Cillian knew it needed a real resolution, and soon, because he was exhausted by it all. 

“As is one in nine hours,” Cillian mumbled his calm reply, and Chris smiled. 

And then, to Cillian's shock, Chris silently broke his own rule as he reached out his left hand and softly laid it against the small of Cillian's back. Though he melted into the touch, Cillian was overwhelmed by it - and he suspected it was his publicly displayed apology for the day before. He'd embarrassed him before all of these people, and he assumed that now this was Chris applying a salve to that in the same public way. Or was it his sorry for the unresolved end to their discussion last night? Cillian made a note in his exhausted mind that he would ask him at the end of the day - assuming that if he was spoken to to reply, it meant things were on the mend, and if he was ignored, it too would provide an answer. Or, Cillian wondered in a strange twist, was Chris now staking his claim over him in the wake of him having been talking to Emily? Was he jealous of anyone who blinked in his direction, for fear it'd turn his head? He was going to be working with Matt for the next two days, would he be next on the chopper? The thought made his stomach drop agonisingly with anxiety. Cillian looked at the side of Chris face - despite his hand against him still, he was looking at Emily and not at Cillian - and tried to work out why he couldn't work him out recently. 

“Right, anyway, happy with that…” Chris launched into mild praise before he informed them of what was happening next. He kept his hand on Cillian's back for the duration of his speech. “...okay?” He looked first at Cillian, then at Emily. “Happy with that?” 

“Grand.” Cillian replied quietly. As Cillian answered, Chris drew back his hand. It still felt significant, the gesture, and the why of it was eating hard into Cillian's mind. He didn't like the ambiguity of it - he reserved that for the work he did. 

“Okay, well, we'll call you when we go ahead.” Chris said, folding the stack of papers in his hands. “Maybe no more coffee?” He tapped the rolled papers against Cillian's shoulder as he turned and walked away. 

In Chris' absence, Cillian stood awkwardly for a few, tense moments. Then he reached out his right hand and touched into Emily's bicep. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have given out to you like that.” 

Emily gave a small smile, “I appreciate the apology, Cill, and I was really only trying to check in with you.” 

Cillian nodded earnestly as he pulled back his hand, “I know, and thank you. But everything is fine.” He wondered if he said it out loud, convincing himself of the same would be easier. 

Cillian returned to the hotel room that evening before Chris did, despite Chris having disappeared into thin air before Cillian had even left the set to get changed. He found the place in the same state it was left that morning - that is to say there was no sign that Chris had been back ahead of him. He set his shoulder bag down onto the sofa and toed off his Converse. It felt warm, even with the low blowing air conditioning, and with it being mid-evening. Cillian took his phone from his back pocket and glanced at it quickly, wondering if there was any indication about his whereabouts in a message from Chris. Alas, there was nothing from the man at all. His notification bar was littered with messages, emails, and a couple of calls he needed to return, but it was all ignorable for the time being. He drew his messages and tapped out a text.

I'm back at the hotel. Didn't see where you went. Are you meeting with Matt ahead of tomorrow? - Cill.

The reply came more swiftly than Cillian would have expected. No sooner had he pushed the phone back into his back pocket did he need to draw it out again as it vibrated fiercely. Swiping the lock screen, he opened the text.

Hotel bar with Matt now. Join us?

The message was short but, as with yesterday and with the exchanges on set today, Cillian didn't find any clipped tone within it. He considered the offer for a moment and knew that his immediate response would be no, but he wondered, too, if this was yet another olive branch. The row had been silly, it had dragged on unnecessarily, and the sofa last night was not a sleeping spot he wanted to repeat.

See you shortly. - Cill.

Cillian didn't bother to change his clothes - he'd barely even had them on all day - and he left his bag behind. He shoved his feet awkwardly back into his Converse and headed out of the door, unsure which version of Chris he would be met with. He expected the social version of him - best foot forward without falseness - who engaged with the people he worked with, similar to what he'd shown with Emily earlier that day. He only hoped that it meant it would continue once there were no others around, and they were alone inside their room again later on.

The hotel bar was respectfully quiet; more empty tables than occupied, low jazz music, lights that belonged in an art gallery with their industrial appearance, and bar staff dressed in black shirts with golden ties. Chris' shape was instantly recognisable as Cillian walked into the space, and he occupied a table with Matt in quiet conversation. Part of Cillian felt as though he were about to be stepping into an atmosphere that wasn't his, that he was intruding on their conversation, but he reminded himself that the invitation had been extended and Chris, for the best part of a decade, had been his partner in all things. He walked to the table with his fingers flicking nervously together at his sides, and paused in the space between Chris and Matt's respective chairs.

“Cillian, hi,” Matt greeted him immediately, a bright cheeky smile dragging his cheeks right beneath his eyes. “Good to see you again.” He got to his feet quickly, and extended his hand.

Cillian shook the offer hand cheerfully, “Yeah, you too.” He smiled. It hadn't been a long stretch since their last meeting, but long enough for Cillian to need to take a little time to adjust to the social changes. As Matt pulled his hand back and returned to his seat, Cillian set his hand instead down against Chris' back, between his shoulders, and was silently nervous to see whether the gesture would be dismissed. Chris' rule about their relationship had always applied only to work, but he wondered - frequently - if that meant work related meet-ups, especially now, especially with the odd dynamic of the past couple of days. But he wasn't dismissed - Chris instantly turned his head and greeted Cillian with a warm smile.

“You want a drink?” Chris offered, gesturing towards the bar.

Cillian nodded, “I'll sort it. You two okay, or can I get you anything?” Matt held out his hand, shaking his head politely, but Chris nodded, gesturing towards his near empty glass of red wine. Cillian drew his hand away from Chris' back, and moved away towards the bar.

“That weight loss is staggering.” Matt commented quietly, shaking his head. “And the hair!”

“He's immersive, you know this.” Chris replied, turning his head to look at Cillian's back as he stood at the bar. His clothes hung on his slim frame awkwardly, but Chris found himself wandering his eyes over Cillian's neck and the bend of his jaw as he turned his head slightly to talk to the bar staff, areas his lips frequently travelled.

“I know, but when you said he had taken it on well, I wasn't expecting him to look emaciated.” Matt laughed, and Chris brought his head back around to look at him. “Florence is around soon, yes?” He asked.

“In a couple of days.” Chris nodded his head and raised his glass to swallow what remained.

“I understand there's a lot of trepidation about a few things.” Matt seemed amused once again, and this time Chris smiled along with him. “On Florence's side?”

“The intimacy coordinator is experienced, as are Florence and Cill,” Chris shrugged his shoulders. “I don't anticipate any issues arising.” He frowned as he said the words, and smirked as Matt did. Grown men through they may have been, innuendo can still be fiercely entertaining. Chris would never voice that it was scenes like that, though written at his own hand, that were the worst for him despite it making a good point of his film. He had no desire to see his partner simulating sex with anyone, and it was irrelevant to him what sex they were. He did not wish to see it at all, but he knew that he would be expected - including those expectations of himself - to not allow himself to react at all. Given the turmoil of the last few days, he knew that he owed Cillian that respect, that quash of his jealousy and insecurity, even knowing that those feelings were unfounded.

Cillian rejoined the table, a glass of wine and a half pint of Guinness in hand, and seated himself in the available chair between Chris and Matt. Conversation flirted around what to expect the next day for over an hour before it turned to general chat - Matt shared stories of his family, amusing Chris and Cillian no end, and as Chris shared stories from previous sets, Matt found himself daunted by some of the tales of behaviour by notes celebrities he wouldn't have expected.

“Yeah, well,” Chris held out his empty palms as Matt shooknhis head in disbelief. “You never know a person until you're a, living with them, or b, working with them for long and arduous periods.”

“How do you two not kill each other?” Matt teased.

Cillian smirked, and raised his eyebrows in surprise when Chris actually went on to offer an answer. “Oh, we get close occasionally. But isn't that a good thing?” He asks. “If you're not arguing, that's when the problems truly exist. If you're apathetic about something, and you don't fight to make a point or fix it, then you mustn't care?” Cillian tilted his head slightly, touched by the meaning of the words and still a little taken aback that Chris had actually given, in a roundabout way, an inch into their relationship.

“Very good point,” Matt agreed quickly, “It's the lack of wanting to put that effort in, even to argue about your feelings, that points to serious problems.” he slipped at his drink, then set down the glass. “Do you though?” He asked, “Especially right now, on this project. Do you get to a point when you've had enough of one another and need some space.”

“Of course,” Chris replied, and Cillian nodded his head at the same time. “Cillian, if he's got the energy, will put in his earphones and go for a run. For me, it's getting out for a change of scenery or company. Short break, and it just resets the…I don't know, sense of autonomy, sense of self, enabling you to come back together and not want to claw the other’s eyes out.” He smirked.

Cillian nodded his agreement again, “Without working together too, though, there's less need. Rarely, when our projects are separate like they more frequently are, is there so much need to be away from one another. And I suppose, being busy with this, when we get back we do still have conversations because we're not constantly in immediate, close proximity. But there are days when I suppose we still need a break.” He shrugged and smirked as Chris raised his eyebrows in food humour. “Do you feel the same at home?” He asked Matt.

Matt nodded instantly, “Oh yeah. I mean, if we've spent days and days in one another company without breaks, then you're right you just need a bit of time, a bit of space, to then come back together and enjoy one another again.”

“It's the same with any type of relationship, I would assume?” Chris broadened the conversational line. “Colleagues, siblings, parents, close friends…” he elaborated. “Too much of a good thing is still too much.” Cillian suspected that Matt and Chris may have had a drink or two before the one he had walked in on, as Chris became more open over his short time sitting along with them. He was not opposed to an inebriated Chris, not at all, but he knew from past experiences that Chris' own rules of privacy were often abandoned during prolonged sessions of alcohol consumption, even when Cillian could drink double his level and be merely skirting around drunkenness.

“I'm not sure,” Matt raised a single eyebrow, “I've never found too much work to be too much, too much roast potatoes…” he joked, earning a laugh from Cillian.

“Too much trust is dangerous, though, isn't it?” Chris asked. “Or too much forgiveness? Or what about too much perpetuation of a behaviour you know to garner unwanted results.”

Matt frowned, “Such as?” He asked.

Chris shifted his chair. He leaned his forearms against the table and still managed to gesticulate with his hands as he spoke. “If something you did frequently bothered your wife, and it was discussed and you were aware of it bothered her, but you perpetually repeated those behaviours, that would be too much of a thing. Yes?” Cillian frowned as Chris spoke, not sure if he was actually making a point or if his assumptions from a moment ago were right and Chris was, indeed, sailing close to three sheets to the wind. “If you repeatedly addressed your wife over an issue, say, that she and you had already dealt with, but you kept reminding her of this issue and of how she should right it, should she simply allow you to perpetuate that issue despite the presumed resolution, or should she be allowed to feel like you were….too much?”

Cillian knew instantly what he was getting at - suddenly all the softness of Chris on set and upon his arrival here at the bar seemed performative and Cillian felt like he had been cast back into the mood of the night before, and of the morning, wherein Chris and he hadn't spoken because Chris couldn't stand that Cillian had mentioned something linked to their argument when Chris had deemed it over. Cillian wanted the ground to open up and swallow him as Matt frowned back at Chris, a little lost, and then looked to Cillian for a guide as to what was happening. “Chris.” Cillian said in a low tone.

Chris looked at him, brows crooked. “What?” Cillian said nothing.

Matt laughed nervously, “Well, I don't know…” he said, eyeing Cillian. “It would depend on the issue and the resolution. If the resolution wasn't enough, maybe it needs readdressing. If there was time passed between, a conversation change or something, and the issue was brought back up…” he turned down the corners of his mouth. “I suppose she would be inclined to be pissed off at me for uprooting something that was put to bed.”

Chris pointed his right index finger towards Matt, and nodded his head sharply. “Exactly, my friend. Uprooting something that was put to bed. Ergo, too much.” He smirked, and once again Matt laughed with a shred of awkwardness.

Cillian's face was firm, though, and his eyes were fixed in a fierce stare on Chris' face. He lifted his glass, drained what remained, and placed the glass back onto the table as he rose to his feet. “I'm going to…” he jerked his head to the right, towards the bar entrance. “I'll see you tomorrow, Matt. Goodnight.” He said politely.

“Cillian?” Chris reached out his hand and captured Cillian's wrist as he took a step away from the table.

“Stay,” Cillian said in a falsely calm voice. “I wouldn't want to be too much.” He raised his brows quickly, sharply, and dropped them again as he jerked his arm from Chris' hand. He walked on without another word, and he left an atmosphere behind him that he didn't have to remain in.

[crowleysgirl56]

Book Omens! A meandering journey to reading Good Omens to my son. The finale!

Well we finished it! Here are some thoughts and observations from both my son and myself (mostly myself actually).

- did I miss something or did Hastur just not do anything further once he got out of the answer-machine and ate all the telemarketers? In the show he manifests in the Bentley then gets discorporated and sent back to hell when Crowley drives through the ball of fire on the M25. But the book just has him coming through the phone line, turning into maggots, devouring the room of telemarketers and then that’s it. Also, it’s been a while since I’ve watched season 1, do they show that the telemarketers are brought back to life because the book has one of them call Newt and then gets annoyed that they’ve lost an entire day because they think it’s still Saturday (assuming this is thanks to Adam putting the world right again). Anyway, this is all to say that I find it odd that the thread of Hastur is just left hanging like that. Which makes me wonder if he was always supposed to have a major part to play in the book’s sequel (and therefore season 3). I recently read an old interview where Pratchett said the makings of the sequel are built into the book. Could this be one of those threads?

- on the subject of Hastur my son said that while he was stuck in the answer-machine Crowley should have just turned him into The Best of Queen, and HOW THE HELL HAS NO ONE THOUGHT OF THAT?! This kid is so clever sometimes he’d make Crowley proud.

- another major thing I noticed and I’m hoping I just didn’t miss something crucial here, is it’s never explained where Crowley got the holy water from. Is it implied it was Aziraphale in the book and I just completely missed it? All of this backstory was of course included in season 1 and I’m wondering if it was included specifically because it was never explained in the book. And again, because there was no explanation, would this have been included in the sequel?

- a sudden though regarding the bikers. There’s never any indication that they were restored. I don’t know if this means anything specifically, but considering there’s the short gag at the end of the book that implies the telemarketers were returned and also the delivery man, I wonder why this didn’t happen for the bikers. Again, is this another thread for the sequel?

- I’ve taken some screen shots below of more passages in the book that made me realise why I never thought Aziraphale and Crowley were romantically coded to each other the first time I read through the book (and I think I might do a deeper dive into these passages in a separate post).

Any thoughts about this is welcome. But again, it seems to be one of those “squint to see the deeper relationship” cases here.

- I will admit however the fact that they had no problem holding hands may have been what gave people pause to think about their relationship. Though could their relationship have been framed platonically, like for example Frodo and Sam in LoTR? (don’t come at me for that comparison. I get that Frodo and Sam are shipped constantly, but Tolkien very specifically said their relationship was about platonic companionship and the type of companionship that hetero men seem to be afraid to show each other in modern times.)

- the last passage involving Warlock was really interesting. Again I couldn’t remember if it’s included in the show, but there definitely did seem to be some kind of implication that there was more to Warlock than him just being the swapped child. Again, was this another thread for the sequel? Was it implied that he would now be the new antichrist? Or could he perhaps be the second coming? Will we see him in season 3?

So, overall impressions. My son liked it but I think a lot of it went over his head (I had to stop and explain a lot of religious canon to him, a lot of the satire, and most of the jokes). He liked Death and the rest of the horsemen and also the bikers. He identified with Adam but still didn’t quite understand why Adam just didn’t use his powers for good (bless him). He didn’t really feel anything in particular for Aziraphale and Crowley (sob!). He also asked me to explain what happened season 2 and why I’m sad about it. He is also now very sad for me, and is very angry with NG.

Maybe one day he’ll read the book again for himself and find the humour much more relatable. He is interested in reading Discworld again and maybe this time will stick it out.

I personally am glad I read it again for myself. And I’m also really grateful for all the fanfic that we have that expands on the story and the characters. Thank you so much to the fandom for your fabulous stories and your love for these characters. And thanks for following along with my ramblings.

[selene-moonie]

AOT: Faith in the 'Cause' and Social vs Inherent Value

NOTE: SPOILERS for the entire series. Also, I'm not saying anyone is right or wrong here. I only hate the shitty parents. Each character worked within the worldview they were raised with, and each of their decisions matter in the story.

Let's get a few definitions out of the way to start:

The 'Cause' - whatever you believe in that's bigger than you. Saving your country, ending the titans, getting a better life.

Social Value - when your worth comes from your ability to support others or your accomplishments.

Inherent Value - the idea that everyone has individual value regardless of their social accomplishments.

There are a few different types of parents. Some raised their kids to believe in a 'cause', others didn't, and some originally believed in a cause and then started valuing their kids as individuals.

Let's start with one of the original villains - Grisha Yeager. He raised his first son to believe in the 'cause' and valued him mainly for his ability to progress this cause. He will be written into history as a monster, like his brother, but it started when Grisha and Dina removed his humanity.

Zeke valued himself so little that he got his parents killed, endured years of spinal injections (and essentially became a male brood mother which is horrifying), had no close relationships other than the one with his mentor, and died for his sins right after he finally started smelling the roses. That is a fucking tragedy if I've ever read one.

His brother didn't get it any better either. Eren grew up with more love, and less of a cause than Zeke, but Eren picked up his own cause and inadvertently copied his dad. Eren's mom is a black haired woman, and Eren kept everything secret from his loved ones till it was too late. He's also dead because he valued himself more for what he could do for his friends than actually living his life.

Which is a shame because Mikasa deserved better than beheading the man she loved. I know Eren couldn't end the cycle of violence himself, he could only save the people loved, but it sucks that he had to die to do that.

I do want to say here that the parents who pushed their kids to further the cause are the ones aware of the reality of the world, like the fact that there's a war, the discrimination against the Eldians, etc. The parents who raised their kids not to believe in a cause, but instead valued them as individuals are the parents unaware of these things.

That doesn't mean they lack awareness of their immediate reality, as in the case of Artur Braus, Sasha's father. He straight up told her she could hide out in the forest and choose to not adapt, but he would change his family traditions to cope with the changing world. Her response was to rebel by joining the military but Sasha eventually came into her own and was one of the best members of the Scouts.

I think of how Sasha and her dad were key players in making sure another Eren wasn't created in Gabi. Her entire character arc was her learning that the Paradis Eldians were people just like her. The kindness, courage, and fighting skills that Sasha brought to the table years prior paid off in Gabi's interactions with her family, which is eventually what changed her mind. I just love seeing the cycle of violence end.

Jean is another one who was brought up with inherent value. He was self-absorbed and self-interested, but also ended up having one of the biggest character changes throughout the story. Jean quickly realised that his skills weren't as useful inside the walls as outside. He also chose not to kill a child soldier, in addition to saving Reiner, despite everything Reiner had done. He was one of the pettier characters, yet he grew into a really responsible man who chose to do better than continuing the cycle of violence as well.

Now the third type of parent is the one who originally valued their children for their social value, but eventually came to love them for their inherent value. These include Karina Braun and Leonhart. Karina straight up used her son to get a leg up in their society, and Leonhart adopted Annie for that purpose which is wild to me. I'm not sure how, or why they started loving their kids after they'd gotten them into the war criminal stuff, but hey, their kids eventually started making decisions that aligned with their true identities. Annie just wanted to go back home, and even though Reiner developed borderline personality disorder and suicidal ideation, he turned out ok as well.

I do wanna talk for a sec about the fact that the ones who were valued socially engaged in the most self-sacrificial behavior. Eren was in love with Mikasa since day zero or something, but he never told her. His relationships were strained and eternally kept at arm's length for his cause. Zeke didn't even have close friends, and Pieck apparently always knew he was a liar.

Meanwhile, the ones who saw inherent value in themselves ended up being the most well-adjusted of all the kids. They were also the ones to reach out and bridge the gaps between the Eldians in the end. Sasha probably never went a day wondering if her best friends loved her, and even though Niccolo hadn't proposed, she probably fantasized about marrying him as well. She lived fully, though she became a casualty of war. I don't think the ones with the causes got to do that.

The kids who eventually learned to value themselves as individuals (Rei, Annie, and Historia) had to assimilate their shadow selves, and they also learned to live life for themselves.

Each of these kids' parents had an active role in the decisions they made and how they valued themselves. The ones who were valued socially died alone and sad, while the ones who did die but were valued inherently had happier relationships. And the others just had to find ways to deal with the shadows they had collected along the way.

[purerae]

— ROOM 42

CHAPTER ONE ;; PROLOGUE

ROOM 42 MASTERLIST

SYPNOSIS ;; Y/N, surprisingly, in detention for missed homework, teams up with the school's delinquent to investigate a mysterious door. Unable too explore further, Y/N and her friends devise a plan to sneak into the classroom after school and explore the hidden space. Their curiosity leads to a sinister game of secrets and betrayal. As they and their friends go deeper, the consequences grow. How far will they go to hide their sins? How far will they go... for her? (click on master list for more details)

(keep reading for chapter one.)

??? POV

"Why is it always me?" Zion groaned, frustration etched across his face. “The teacher's pet constantly snitches on every bloody thing I do." He slammed his fist into the wall, causing more chips to fly off the already ruined surface.

For the seventh time, Eliza, the teacher's pet, had reported Zion Minh for skipping class.

"Bro, she just doesn't like you. I skip class all the time, and she never bothers me," his friend Adrien chuckled.

Zion rolled his eyes. "She just wants to suck your dick, shut up."

"I mean, who wouldn't? Just look at me~" Adrien teased.

Zion gave him a blank stare and narrowed his crimson eyes. Adrien snickered at his own joke.

Despite their banter, Zion and Adrien were actually close friends. They had known each other since they were babies due to their parents' close work relationship.

Zion, with his dark crimson red hair and matching eyes, had a reputation as a high school delinquent. He was always ready to confront anything that seemed like a threat. Everyone in school knew better than to mess with him, except for his gang and Eliza.

Adrien, with his dirty blonde hair and khaki green eyes, was also a delinquent but less intimidating than Zion. He had a reputation as the school's playboy, often flirting with the girls. Teachers liked him, but they knew he could be mischievous at times. Only Zion and his dad had seen Adrien at his worst.

"Alright babe! Enjoy your detention, I'll see you later," Adrien chuckled, running off to the main entrance and leaving the building.

Zion grimaced at the mocking pet name and muttered a quick goodbye before heading towards Room 42, the designated detention room at the back of the school. He preferred this room to avoid the other students, as he was often tempted to pick fights with them.

Upon entering, Zion noticed a tall woman with long blonde hair sitting on a desk at the front of the classroom. He rolled his eyes, recognizing her as the one who often gave him detention.

"You're here again, Mr. Minh? You really need to step up your game before you get excluded from this school. Also, surprisingly, someone else has a detention right now in this room," she sighed, looking him up and down. "Please don't annoy her. I'll be gone for half an hour to attend a meeting. You better still be here." With that, she trudged off, her footsteps gradually fading away.

"You better still be here," Zion mimicked in a high-pitched voice, raising his hands mockingly.

He made his way to the back of the classroom, his usual spot, and started playing with his pen. After a while, boredom set in, and he decided to explore the classroom. He rummaged through the books, broke some pens, and generally acted nonchalant. Finally, he went up to a tall bookshelf and grabbed a boring science book, which he despised. With a sense of rebellion, he began vandalizing it, scribbling all sorts of things and profanities.

However, he soon noticed something in his peripheral vision. A girl with her hood up and earphones in was staring straight at him. The sound of music bled through the buds.

Feeling awkward, Zion looked up and made eye contact with the girl. She quickly rushed to the front of the class and took a seat. It then dawned on Zion that this was the person he had detention with. He rolled his eyes at the realisation, 'Great, some freak i have to share the room with for a whole ass hour…’

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Y/N L/N

Y/N was ten minutes late to detention because she couldn't find the isolated classroom. 'Of course, I'm the one who has detention at the stupid creepy classroom,' she thought with a groan, tilting her head back out of frustration

This was her first detention, and she was panicking. It happened because she had failed to submit her math homework three times in a row. It wasn't entirely her fault; she lacked the motivation and struggled to understand math for fucks sake!

As Y/N entered the room, she noticed a red-headed boy crouching down, aggressively defacing a book. He already gave her an odd impression as she wondered why he was torturing the Science book meant for younger children. She stopped her music and put her hood up, hoping to avoid any attention from him.

The boy's face was visible to her, but he seemed too absorbed in his task to notice her. It dawned on her that this was Zion Minh, the scariest person in school and Eliza's one-sided enemy. At that moment, she wished she could just run out of the classroom to avoid any potential conflict.

A/N ;; The first chapter is awful I am so sorry!! Please trust me, and it will get better as the chapters go on. comments and reblogs heavily appreciated <33

purerae &lt;3