#but they always change a little every time I draw them because I rarely do

[ifindus]

Some more of my Norwegian Regions based on a conversation I had with two of my friends.

(Trøndelag/Central Norway, Nord-Norge/Northern Norway, Østlandet/Eastern Norway)

[lymtw]

Soft and Slow

Thinking of a soft and slow, but heated make out session with Toji, where he's got you beneath him, brushing his lips against yours with the intention of not stopping until both his lips and yours feel raw.

One of his hands is on your waist, squeezing tenderly, while the other is in your panties, thick fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. You're humming little whimpers into your kisses, pushing at his chest every once in a while and breaking the ongoing kiss.

"What, ma?" Toji asks, his voice deepened with restrained lust. His eyes are so dark, you can barely see the green that naturally brightens them. "Why're you pushing me away, hm?" He asks, kissing the corner of your lips.

"Please... slow down," you say, breathily. "I don't want this to end so soon."

"Baby, that was slow," he says, with an amused grin on his face. "Was being gentle and barely moved my fingers."

You sigh, embarrassment coursing through you and showing itself in your face through a bright shade of red that smothers your cheeks.

"Come on," he says, softly, leaning in again to continue where things were left off. Toji's lips lock with yours, the gentle synchronization egging on the pleasure he draws from you. He wasn't lying when he said he was barely moving his fingers. He just knows you've always been a sensitive little thing for him, and because of that, he loves testing your sensitivity in moments like these. Moments where even just the kissing part would have you squirming, and his weight on your body makes you need him so bad that you feel filthy for letting your thoughts of the situation evolve into something sinful.

"Kiss me back, princess," he murmurs, noticing the way you're heavily slowing down, not fully reciprocating his kisses like before.

"W-Wait-" you gasp, slapping a hand on Toji's wrist. "I'm gonna-"

"Then cum, sweetheart. We can do it again and again if that's what you're stressing over."

"Mm-mm." You shake your head to emphasize your response. "The first one is always the strongest. Please, Toji. Pretty please, not yet," you beg.

Toji has a look of strange disbelief painted on his features. How could you not want this? It's been going on for the better part of half an hour, now. The edging must be driving you crazy.

You pull his hand out of your underwear and the other one off your waist, bringing them both up to your lips. "Please, baby..." you murmur into his palms, kissing them both repeatedly. "...not yet. Just a little longer." You change the position of your hands and hold his hands tight, bringing his knuckles up to your lips this time.

Toji clicks his tongue, making it clear that he's the one who's being impatient. He just wants to see and hear the side effects of your pleasure. You're teasing him with those little whimpers and gasps between kisses. The reason it's so hard to bear is because he's so used to you giving him what he wants, when he wants it. This is one of the rare times where you're trying to stand your ground against him. You always hope you have enough willpower to keep up your defense because Toji knows every way to sneak through it or tear it down. Your love for him is a severe disadvantage, and because of it, all it takes is a few words and it's as if your defense was made of flimsy paper.

"Alright, alright, little masochist. I'll slow down even more, for you."

You giggle at the nickname, welcoming Toji's weight on you again. He makes a brief detour and directs himself towards your ear to whisper some much needed information.

"I'm not going any slower than this, you understand?" He mutters, into your ear.

"But-"

"Princess," he says, cutting you off. "It's yes or no. Do you understand or not?" he asks, stomping all over your wants because for once his needs outshine them. You nod, silently, in response. "Good." He pecks your cheek, leaning back to look at you. You look... not all there, or at least not like you did just seconds ago. It's not what he wanted. He sighs, knowing what it's gonna have to come down to as he cups your cheeks in his warm hands. He knows there has to be a different approach. One that doesn't involve him making you feel like you were in the wrong for wanting him in a specific way.

"Wanna cum? For me, mama?"

There he went, tearing down your defenses like they're party streamers. For me. Those two simple words were all he needed. He knew exactly how to catch you in his trap. Redirection was key. If he made it seem like a favor to him, you would do it with zero hesitation. It's one of the many pros that came with you and your constant need for his praise... He just knew you too well. Well enough to know that it worked the second the twinkle in your eyes returned.

"I'll take it slow, just like you wanted," he promises. "but, you can't push me away. Even if I bring you to the edge with that same pace you begged for." He knows he'll bring you to orgasm even with the limited movement you allow him.

There was a beam of tranquility in your eyes, a twitch in the corners of your lips, where the key to unlock the two words you strived to hear as many times as you could in a day, rested. It was only a matter of seconds before you would give in. You were right there, centimeters away from his clutches.

"Mama..." he says, pushing for you to answer him while leaning towards your lips again. "Let me make you cum," he says against the corner of your lips, a devilish smirk on his face.

"Fuck- Fine, okay," you say, waving your imaginary white flag.

"Mhm... that's my good girl."

And there they were, those two words you forever longed to hear from Toji. If he wanted you to be on the edge again, he did a great job of getting you there without having to do much.

Toji centered his lips on yours again, starting out with that same slow rhythm, as to not rile you up so quickly. He incorporated his touch a couple minutes later, his hands returning to the previous positions they held on your body—one on your bare waist, the other slipped into your underwear. You jolted at the reintroduced stimulation his fingers offered your clit, a sharp gasp breaking the passionate kissing.

"Shh... It's okay, doll," he murmured, quickly directing your attention back to his lips. He was feeding off your breathy moans and whimpers. If he hadn't pressed you so hard before with the promise of pacing himself with you, he would have gone back on his word and quickly made you cum so that he could work you up to the next orgasm, already.

Truly, you were heaven in his ears, on his lips, and in his hands. Despite not looking at you, he knew the sight to be insane, as well.

Your hands went to the sheets, the material balling up messily in your fists as Toji brought you closer to your peak. You did your best to keep up with his lips, but nothing was as clear as the strokes being drawn between your legs.

By the four minute mark, you were a panting mess, shamelessly chasing more friction from his whole hand. That's where the hand he had resting on your waist came into play. It lowered down to your hip, immobilizing you enough to stop you from taking more than what he was offering until he gave you permission.

"Be good," he mutters, cutting through the soft sounds of your whimpers. He knew you were close. So, so close. Your moans were getting higher in pitch and you were trembling beneath him. He just kept rubbing his fingertips against your clit, over and over, bringing a lingering—echoing sensation throughout your entire cunt. You completely fell apart after a few more strokes, each more pressurized than the other until you snapped. You lost the ability to kiss Toji back when he used the entirety of his hand on you, cupping your cunt to draw out as much of your pleasure as he could. Your head was thrown back into the pillow, waterfalls of lewd moans and cries filling the room. "There you go, mama," he coos, allowing you some freedom to roll your hips against his hand. He presses quick kisses into your jaw and the column of your neck as your face is aimed towards the ceiling.

You surpassed the zenith of your pleasure and in time treaded towards more than you could handle. You nonverbally begged Toji to stop, wrapping your much smaller hands around his forearm. A couple whimpers and squeaks of overstimulation were required for him to slow down to a halt, even after your quivering thighs trapped his hand between them.

Your eyes fell shut and you sighed, contentedly. Toji observed your state of bliss, a shade of pink dusting lightly over his cheeks. You looked so pretty, lying there on the pillow for him. He can see you clearly, despite the curtains being shut to keep your little world safe inside. This allows nothing and no one to peek in, not even the moon and its guiding light. You're more brilliant than the moon, anyway. Much prettier, as well. It doesn't take a genius to establish this, especially when you look at Toji with all the stars in your eyes.

"Let's go again."

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The fathers of Rome

Marcus/Geta/Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : fluff, comfort, crying, kissing a bit emotional, birth, family issues, written before the movie came out characters may be different

Summary : Two Emperors and the general of the army all had important duties and responsibilities but by the grace of the gods and with devotion of love the three most influential men find themselves with the news of a pregnant wife. Each of them has a slightly different approach to taking care of his pregnant wife and the birth, because a birth could always go wrong and the gods were rarely merciful.

info : I wanted to write something sweet for the three of them and I know that they could be good fathers (if you romanticize a little bit) now have fun reading and have a nice day.

masterlist

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

Marcus Acacius

It was thought that the battlefield was his home and the sword was his wife but few knew that in a vast field of olive trees and wheat fields stood a large villa in which a woman lived with a small household and prayed between her altars to the gods that her beloved husband would return home safely.

A story of a leader of the army of Rome and his wife a former oracle who met him, foretold him his future yet his eyes, his voice and his being would not depart from her own prophecies.

An initial love of safety in times of peace, she appreciated his protective nature in a world that belonged almost entirely to Rome, danger still lurked everywhere. He, in turn, was captured by her grace and care, this devotion to those in need or to himself when she waited on him to heal his wounds and the two felt safe and complete together.

A husband who rushed home on horseback so fast he rode to her from the support posts when the emperors called him back the sleep was won she saw the shadow on the horizon from the balcony and even mounted her horse to meet him, ,,My heart" he embraced her each time still seeing the dirt and emaciation on him after being away for months sometimes years.

His hands closed around her, an embrace, a heartfelt kiss, tears in her eyes when she finally saw him again before they rode back to the villa together, she helped him bathe and wash her before he pulled her into the water himself, not wanting to leave her side and unable to do so for too long, he had missed her, not only her lovely eyes, her voice that he loved to listen to, her hair that he ran through and her hands that he clasped every time he wanted to be close to her but couldn't in public.

But with such intimacy comes love and with love comes desire, desire for each other, desire for each other's bodies and this desire was pursued many nights and on some bright days they were also close until he had to leave again, for the next raid not knowing that only two months after he was gone he received a letter with scrawled writing full of excitement.

A letter that moved him to tears when he read it for the first time, ,,I'm going…to be a father" he mumbled to himself in his tent above and above he realized that love for each other would grow into a life, a little baby that would look like both of them and a big smile stayed on his lips as he hurriedly wrote back to her expressing his joy and his heart, how excited he was himself, how proud he was of her and how much he loved her and praying to the gods that the battle would be won quickly.

The letters changed from weekly to daily as her pregnancy progressed and he received drawings of what she looked like, along with dried flowers she was growing that were made into tea and tinctures to help her body.

The couple were happy with words, kisses seemed to spread across the infinity and she was sent a piece of clothing by Marcus and remembered that he would return to her and their child.

Everything went well until he received the letter that she would go into labor in the next few days, the war took longer than expected, but it was the first and only time he gave his sergeant the lead and started the journey back on his own responsibility, which would take several days, but he had to go to her the fear and worry that something could go wrong that he would lose her or that the child was not healthy.

Fear and worry clutched at his heart as he drove his horse faster and faster as fast as he could back home where he burst through the front door and heard the screams of pain that scared him to death calling her name, he hurried up the stairs to the shared bedroom where he found her crouching by the bed, apparently lying down would lead to complications.

,,Love I'm-I'm here everything will be fine" he murmured hastily pressing kisses on her hand which she immediately grasped painfully and screamed again as she tried to get their child out of her, he could still see the love for him in her tear-stained eyes on her sweat-smeared body they were both covered in blood from the death of the battlefield and the birth of new life as she continued to push and the midwife helped her too.

She screamed out his name her pain and Marcus became more and more afraid of losing her with every pain she had as she continued to hold her giving her courage and hope when his own hands trembled as he heard the ,,I can see the head my lady keep pushing" from the midwife who did everything she could to make the birth as easy as possible.

,,You can do it my heart I'm here push again" he whispered to her as she looked at him in pain he saw the fear and yet the deniability that he was with her before she let out one last scream and he heard a bright scream next to blood splattering on the floor, a bright scream that echoed and seemed never to stop.

,,Congratulations, a healthy baby boy!" the older woman announced, dabbing the newborn baby lightly before wrapping him in linen so he could be held better, while Marcus helped his wife back onto the bed, covering her lightly and giving her a long kiss, ,,I am so very proud my darling," he whispered placing a kiss on her head, before taking his son in his arms, those light, dark hairs on the delicate head belonging to him but the pretty eyes were hers.

His eyes filled with tears of pride and reassurance as he stroked his son and gave her the little bundle she clutched, ,,A piece of love from both of us," she uttered, crying with happiness as she looked into her son's curious face and he chuckled at her as the two parents spent the next few hours together on the bed with pure happiness as the little baby went from laughing with gurgling laughter, to crying and finally falling asleep exhausted in the equally exhausted arms of his parents.

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

Emperor Geta

The younger but stronger emperor of Rome, the warrior and leader who did not subordinate himself and enjoyed the Coloseum. A young man whose golden lure was not the only thing that seemed to be gold, he bought and made whatever he wanted, be it new armor, a sword, an army or even slaves that he could kill or do anything else with.

But in his life, his only blood besides his older brother Caracalla, there was only one marriage predestined by his father that he should marry her.

Pretty, coming from wealth and power but not a woman he had chosen, it was like fate, his father had decided like a god on the life of his son but it had been like that for some time now and as much as the couple was celebrated in public, the false smiles and hand-holding of the inner circle was seen through, they were both torn.

As much as they tried to understand each other and she appreciated his gift of attention to Rome, as much as he thought she was pretty and appreciated her patience as a true virtue, they never seemed to be in the same mood. There never seemed to have been a thread of fate.

,,Can love ever arise from a loveless duty?" she had once asked him when he wanted to retire in the evenings, avoiding her to occupy himself with his important things that his older brother wasn't interested in and always finding an excuse to avoid her.

She saw the guilt disappear from his eyes in the blink of an eye, saw him straighten the rings on his fingers before he replied with a ,,Love comes from the heart… a duty from the words of others" before he left her room and avoided her for another night, a night that followed one after the other until one day they attended his brother's wedding, Caracalla also married a highborn woman and gave the Roman Empire its first heir, as it should be - it was all just a matter of time.

A fact that Geta also knew, even if with a smile his bright eyes wished nothing but death for his sister-in-law, a plague that she and his brother would have to endure,

,,I want to see you in my chamber after the feast and that is not a question" he murmured to his wife who looked at him with an uneasy look, she had seen the looks, knew what was going on in her husband and yet in a horrible fate she felt the duty in her heart she had to bear him an heir.

The festivities dragged on for a long time, but with wine that overwhelmed her senses she distracted herself from what was going to happen, what he was going to do just because his place in the order of precedence would be changed, she followed his words, made a simple excuse and retired to her husband's room.

She had also heard the wine on his lips as that night began with a kiss, senses dazed by wine and yet there was still a kind of tenderness in his touch despite his hatred, she still held him close to her heart, something she clung to as hope.

A hope and love a lust she would not have expected from him overcame the nights of nights she saw for the first time his jealousy coupled with love,.

,,I know you are trying my love" he told her again and again his hand placed on her tree day after day she seemed to realize if she was pregnant until the day one of the midwives and his healer confirmed she was pregnant and a few tests brought the uncertainty to an end.

She still couldn't believe it was true, she felt his arms around her body and words of praise but double-edged words coming at her as Geta looked at her with a look that told her he had never felt more love for her than now, ,,My Empress pregnant with my heir" he murmured and immediately let the news spread everywhere rubbing it straight into the face of his brother and especially his sister-in-law who was not yet pregnant.

The time after that was filled with happiness and yet paranoia, he was only more attached to her, paying attention to everything and having the room for the child decorated with her taste, choosing the furniture and the colors, ,,The room of the future emperor," he announced to her as she leaned on him and saw the room with pictures of heroic deeds and old legends showing victories.

,,A truly impressive room," she admitted and felt her hands relax on her now round belly as time passed, the moons and suns came quickly and her pregnancy increased, the closer she got to the birth the more excited Geta seemed to become, insisting on being present the whole time…an insistence she kept, only a few moons later her contractions came and the palace was filled with screams and weeping.

Geta shouted at the midwives and healers to kill them all or he would kill them personally while he supported his wife with words and did not flinch when her bloodied hand reached for him, ,,You are doing very well I am with you dear, with our son you will make it" he told her again and again kissing her forehead and giving her hopeful kisses until he shouted more death threats until the news came that it was almost done.

The last screams were full of pain and she clung to him even more, the pain increasing with the thought that had plagued her for months and her heart stopped when she heard the voice of the midwife saying ,,My emperor it's a…girl" and the room slowly fell silent, only the shrill cry of the baby could be heard, a baby without the right sex, a girl no heir.

Her heavy breathing and the tears rolling down her cheeks as he pulled away from her with a jerk, she was supported by her midwives who helped her onto the bed and took care of her as best they could while she watched Geta take her daughter in his arms and turn his back on her, not seeing how he looked with this "disappointing" birth.

,,Everyone out now!" he shouted making the little baby cry again and yet everyone complied, ,,Geta I'm-I'm sorry" she started trying to get to him when she heard a sniffle and paused, at first she thought it was the baby but it giggled and a clearing of the throat was heard before he turned to her.

Her worry vanished when she saw his expression it was pride, it was appreciation it was happiness, ,,The future of the empire an empress from the love of her parents…she will become a goddess" he murmured and came to his wife in bed put the baby in her arms and gave the little girl a kiss on the head while he held his wife's hand and gently stroked it.

He was not disappointed he had gotten something so much better, he had gotten love and a wife who was everything to him a family of his own the only imperial family of ancient Rome.

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

Emperor Caracalla

The elder son, the first emperor to rule with his younger but much more suitable brother, a pair of brothers who ruled together and brought Rome to the top of the world with its army and its strength, but above all a young man with a woman at his side.

A woman, the Empress of Rome, beautiful, handsome and caring, popular with the people and not underestimated in politics because of her own country of origin and family…but a young woman without children.

A woman without children from an age when she would not be empress she would take other jobs nor have a choice but an empress was not a politician, a warrior or even a farmer an empress was and should always be a mother first so it has always been but not with her.

The wedding was moons ago and even if it was a little difficult at first their hearts were close she loved her playful husband who was always loving to her and had a penchant for entertainment of any kind.

As long as Carcalla wasn't bored, he knew that his brother was concerned with everything else, including politics, for which he had little taste when it wasn't a matter of attack or execution, she could only entertain him by acting, playing or playing in the arena, and as much as they both enjoyed it, she became more unhappy.

,,Your smile is fading, don't you like it? I can hire a new actor or buy new slaves right away," the blonde immediately offered and waved the troupe out so he could talk to his wife who had been laughing all evening, her hand detached from her belly and handed him the parchment he had skimmed over in the morning.

A parchment with the emperor's seal, a message from his brother that Geta had taken a wife of his own on a state visit, ,,The betrothal and wedding, what's with that, starlet?" he asked, tossing the paper carelessly aside before rising and going to the table of fruit and helping himself to the grapes.

He didn't understand the seriousness, the worry or even what it meant for the future, not that they hadn't slept together often, the wedding night had been consummated and they had often shared the bed but it had never led to anything, she rose from her chair and went to him, taking his hand and seeking his gaze.

,,Cara. ..you're still the older one, a duty is on me and I don't know if I can ever give you…an heir" she said the lump in her throat almost cutting off her voice hoping he would understand.

She saw the humor fade from his face and he considered before he gave an almost stunned expression and grabbed both her hands hastily, squeezing them and locking them in a hasty kiss over and over until she broke away to catch her breath, ,,Please I-it may well be me…all this he may be the politician but I am the elder, the first and you do your duty every day you are with me.

,,I leave no room for doubt, do you understand?" he demanded and she found his hopefulness, confidence and euphoria truly inspiring that a small smile crept onto her lips before he took her in his arms the imperial couple found themselves together again that night, taking help from potions, tinctures and many other forbidden practices that they hardly left the bedchamber together for the next few days.

It was clear to everyone what was happening behind the closed doors but after trying and trying this hope was to pay off with her first discomfort and the first change, ,,Congratulations my Emperor you are finally pregnant" the healer announced as he listened to the results of the test and her report, her tears wetting the tunic of her husband who hugged her and twirled around and was all the more pleased.

The news also pleased the people and even when she saw the looks on Geta's face and his wife she knew she had done her duty she would give Rome an heir, she had not disappointed Caracalla, ,,You can never let me down everything will go well the gods are with us" he told her reading she put up stowage in the child's room and her own for the next moons so that she was protected and the child inside her.

The protection seemed to help Geta until a point, and everything seemed to go well until the day of the birth, when blood and tears covered the floor, ,,What's wrong with my wife?" Caracalla who was holding her hand on the bed but the dagger at his side seemed to slaughter anyone who did anything wrong.

He kissed her hands and fingers, tried to cool her forehead with cool cloths and tell her again that she was doing well, ,,It seems that the Empress is pregnant with twins," said one of the midwives who had already brought out the size of the belly and the prolonged birth.

It was news she needed to cry out and Caracalla was filled with joy which he only showed when she continued to scream and push with the help of Caracalla who got into a kneeling position and the moments of pain merged until the first child was pushed out, ,,A boy!" the midwife shouted and took care of the little creature while the younger one continued to hold on to her husband.

The blonde gave her a proud kiss on the head, ,,Do you hear that? Our son love you can do it I am here" he murmured over and over until another cry from her side and a second bright cry told them that it was done that night a boy and his sister were born, Caracalla proudly and happily held the little babies and immediately spoke to them while praising them over and over.

The little family was not only complete but was now a little conversation of their own for each other, they had brought themselves together through love and received two sweet little gifts because they believed that their love was stronger than anything else.

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

@morallyinept

@parvanovel -> I konw pregnancy is one thing but it's fluff so have fun :)

@sweetpascal

[vivwritesfics]

The Devil Dances With A Smile

Chapter Two

He can't kill you. He can't bring himself to lay a hand on you. So, he falls for you instead (its a shame his employer really wants you dead)

Hitman!Max x reader

Chapter One

The teachers lounge was rarely a good place to nap. Somebody was always yapping about something. On any day but today, that would have been Max. Yapping at Charles, who would yap back. 

Today, though, he was far too tired to yap. He laid his head down on the table, his energy drink forgotten in front of him. The teachers lounge was the only place he could enjoy his much needed energy drinks, especially if he didn't want the kids to see. 

"You look like shit," Charles muttered as he joined him, sipping his coffee. 

Max looked up only to glare. He quickly laid his head back onto the table and shut his eyes. 

"Jim and Sass keep you up again?" 

Oh, that was right. Back when he and Charles first started their jobs, Jimmy and Sassy were his excuse for everything. It was better that way, though. If Charles knew what he was really doing, he'd never look at him the same way. 

"Just let me sleep, Charlie," Max mumbled through a yawn. 

Leaning back, Charles sipped his coffee, but he said nothing more. He kept his eye fixed on Max, just watching him. When the bell went, he woke Max up. Snapped his fingers in front of his face to make him just a little more alert and sent him in the direction of his classroom. 

Mac moved through the day like a zombie. He barely got through it, his only aid being the red bull he kept hidden in his thermos. 

The thing about Max was that he hated coffee. Last night had been a charade; he hid every grimace behind what he hoped was a charming smile. When you topped him up for a second cup, he guessed that it worked. 

Still, he wouldn't be ordering another from you. But he would be going back. Research, he told himself. To find out why somebody would want you killed. Were you really that bad a person? So bad that somebody was willing to pay a lot of money to see you dead at his hands? He just couldn't see it. 

The school day came and went as it always did. Max stayed behind and tidied his classrooms. Put the text books back on the shelves and picked up paper left behind by the students. 

A drawing. He knew immediately which student had done it. A talented artist who had spent the lesson drawing him and Mr Leclerc from history locking lips. 

Chuckling to himself, Max shoved the drawing into his drawer. He grabbed his bag, the Red Bull disguised in his coffee thermos, and headed out. 

Max had never dreaded going to his second job before, not since his first day. But tonight? Tonight was different. 

For the first time ever, he hadn't completed the job. 

He moved slowly as he got himself showered and changed, making dinner for himself and feeding the cats. Jimmy and Sassy fussed around his legs, and Max took his time to give them attention, putting off the inevitable. 

Christian was gonna have his ass. 

Tying his shoelaces took longer than normal, but that was because he was stopping every few seconds to give his cats kisses. “I love you both,” he assured them, running his hand along Jimmy's back and up his tail. “If daddy doesn't make it home, uncle Charles is gonna take care of you, okay?” 

He swallowed the lump in his throat and headed out the door. 

Never before had Max wished for traffic. Never before had he wished for his commute to his second job to take longer than the usual twenty minutes. 

But it felt all too soon that he pulled into his parking space. He sat there for several minutes, making sure he had everything that he needed. Keys, wallet, phone. All already in his pocket. Convenient. 

He forced his brain to think up the worst that Christian could say and do as he walked towards his office. Shoot him dead was the worst he could do, tell him he's fired was the worst he could say. 

Max sucked in a breath. He pushed down the handle and opened the door, letting himself into the office. If he was a weaker man, his legs would have been buckling as he approached the desk. 

"Your target is still alive."

Max nodded as he sucked in a breath. "I know," he said. "But she's tricky," he finished. 

Christian blinked at him. "She's a waitress," he replied. "Can't you shoot her dead when she's behind the counter?" 

A sigh left his lips. "Just trust me, Christian, it's not that simple. She's got colleagues and customers, people  that care about her. I can't just kill her there; I've got to gain her trust first." 

Christian levelled him with a look. Unimpressed, but accepting. "Fine. Just get it done," he said and sent Max on his way. 

He couldn't keep putting it off, he thought as he drove towards the café. He immediately spotted you, clearing the tables by the window. He watched you pause and look out across the lamp lit street. 

Climbing out of the car, Max started towards the café. His mouth was dry as the bell above the door rang, signalling his arrival. 

You looked up as the bell rang, a smile splitting across your face. "Well hey, stranger," you said, your grin widening. Any more and your face would have hurt. 

"Nice to see you again," Max said as he slipped into the nearest seat. 

You leaned against the table. It wasn't like you were trying to flirt, trying so hard to appeal to him. But it was working. Your pretty eyes, your pretty smile. He could have stayed here all day staring at you. 

You took his order, just a coffee. But you threw in a pastry for him, a treat, on the house. 

For the first hour, Max sat there. As much as he wanted to talk to you, you were too busy working him to give him the attention that he wanted. But you met his eye, gave him a warm smile as you cleaned the rest  of the cafe. 

Finally, you leaned against the table once again, your palm flat as you angled your body towards him. "So, what? Are you stalking me or something?" 

For a moment, Max panicked. But then you laughed and his entire body relaxed. "It's not every night you meet a pretty girl in a dingy café," he replied and your cheeks heated up. The little 'no offense' he added at the end was so endearing, you couldn't help but slip into the seat. 

Max was easy to talk to, but you knew that from the day before. He showed you pictures of his cats, telling you all about them until you got called into the kitchen to run food. 

As soon as table 43 had their food, you returned to Max's table. "I still don't get what you're doing here," you said to him, not bothering to sit down this time. You only had five minutes left on the clock. "You're a teacher, a local one. You don't get the train anywhere, so why are you here?" 

His face was bright red and he pushed his hair back, swallowing. "The first time, I was just looking for something to drink. I came in today because I wanted to see you," he confessed, scratching at the back of his neck. 

You checked your watch. "Let me clock out, and then you can walk me to the bus stop again." 

Before you could walk away, before you could get changed and walk back towards him, Max grabbed your arm. Your immediate instincts had you quickly pulling out of his grip and taking two steps back. 

Max dropped his hand. He didn’t say anything, didn’t call out your behaviour. Instead, he fished his car keys from his jacket pocket. “Or I could drive you home, if you like.”

He didn’t drive you home that night. But he did walk you to the bus stop again. You stood closer to him than you would to any of your other customers. “I want to take you out at some point,” he said, staring down at you. The bus was pulling up, he only had a few seconds. “On a date.”

You didn’t gasp, you weren’t surprised. But your cheeks still heated up. “Tomorrow,” you said and smoothed down his jacket. “We’ll arrange it tomorrow.”

Max watched as you stepped onto the bus and paid for your ticket. He watched as you sat somewhere near the back. 

As soon as the bus pulled away, Max headed back towards the car. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, swiping his thumb across the screen to answer it. “Soon, Christian,” he said, before Christian had the chance to say anything to him. “She’ll be dead soon.” He swallowed the lump in his throat as he climbed into the car. 

Christian paused for a moment. An anxiety inducing moment. ‘Lando is gonna take on the job’, that was what he was ready for him to say. “Our employer wants her dead within the next two weeks. Get on with it.”

The call ended and Max dropped his phone onto the centre console. A sigh left his lips and he began to drive, heading in the direction of the bus. There weren’t many occasions that called for Max to tail a bus, and it wasn’t all that easy. Every time the bus stopped at a stop, he parked where he could until the bus moved on. 

But then you got off of the bus and began your walk. As you got off of the bus, Max parked his car and climbed out. He followed you, ducking behind bins and bushes. You didn’t turn around, had no idea you were being followed. 

You weren’t expecting any sort of danger. Maybe it made you naive. You had no idea of the danger you were in. Max kept following you until you made it to your apartment complex. The sun was rising, the streets no longer dark. 

You were in so much danger, so much fucking danger. Max swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn’t let anything happen to you, he knew that much.

a/n: part two! it actually feels so good to be working on a series again. for those that don't know, i'm currently working on a lestappen werewolf series (that i hope to have posted in the next week) so keep an eye out for that!

prev ! next

Taglist: @nurse-floyd

@biancathecool

@hollie911

@dreamercrowd

@the-fandom-ness

@rakshatos

@laneyspaulding19

@maximofflove

@47chickens

@scorpiomindfuck

@st-rex

@likedbygaslyy

@eveninggstar

@viennakarma

@mosaicbrokenherz

@formulas-bitch

@shimmermotorsport

@novazsq

[sen-ya]

Life After Info Post

[Click here to access the Life After Digital Comic Book]

Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)

Relationships: Luffy x Law

Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Page Count: [37 posted | 55 drawn]

Latest Update: [7/21/24] WOWEE did I get myself carried away this morning. I just spent 5 hours organizing my comics and creating the digital comic book pages. I could have spent that time drawing or idk not doing what I do for my job, but I cannot be stopped. Anyway I blocked out 30 pages of this comic last week and they include the most intense action sequence I've ever done in my gotdang life. Wish me luck because I am nervous about tying down all my drawings lmao.

OLD UPDATES:

[6/29/24] HULLO! I'm doing so bad at keeping my masterposts updated lately I am sorry. All pages of life after are tagged life after if you're ever looking between masterpost updates! Also exciting update, I finally have figured out all the different plot points i'm gonna be hitting (yay!). I got hung up on something for awhile that made me not wanna work on this project, but I'm back at it. I think we'll end up with 6-7 parts! I have probably another 80-100 pages to draw lol. Also i got the app Magic Poser and it's AWESOME and I immediately used it to block out sets cuz MAN I hate backgrounds.

[6/10/24] HELLO. I'm sorry I've been shit at updating my masterposts lately. It's easiest to do from my computer, which I rarely use, and life has been happening. I also can't believe I bungled the queue and posted pg19 before pg18 i am very sorry 🤦 Eventually I'll have to turn this into an airtable base I'm sure, but until that day comes where I have like 100 pages of this comic we're stickin to the regular post lmao

[5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird 🙊

[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)

[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!

[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.

[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.

[terrumdurak]

thank you Borsht for writing me a sweet message about lbh appearance (i'm so sorry that i've accidentally deleted it and can't do a proper answer post)

so i wanted to go deeper with comparing lbh and lbg appearances (how i draw them ofc) as well as explain why my lbh looks so tired and sad. With my designs i want to show characters' inner world so i tend to mix up some canon things.

Luo Binghe is an amazing example. I was trying to show how he is affectionate to his shizun, his shizun-mirroring behaviour. He wears the same clothing style as sqq, even tho his fighting style is way more aggressive and screams for tighter clothes. He is also a little bit more tanned bc it's hot in demons realm where he spent a lot of time (as well he doesn't care if he gets tanned). He is exposing his collarbones and tends to ignore the inner layer - as demons do. His hair is spiky and shaggy and tied into a messy bun. He isn't going for fancy clothing and his look is kinda messy - he is strong enough to show everyone that it isn't about his appearance (maybe he doesn't care with all that politics and shizun resurrection and countless fights who knows). Lbh is lost and he doesn't know what to do, he feels grief and sorrow and aggression. But his aggression goes mostly in, rarely out. Lbh harms himself first and others second. He tries not to murder people (he actually killed some tho and that's sad). I added scars on his arms to show how he actually hates himself, willing to feel pain over and over again. He destroys his world of dreams, he harms himself every freaking day. Xinmo harmed his mind so much because he was already unstable and it also drunk a lot of his own blood, getting even stronger. But still lbh has potential to heal wounds, let scars close and new skin grow on top of them.

Now it's Luo Bingge turn. He is mirroring sqq from PIDW (sj) in every tiny little detail. He hates him so much that desided to fully copy shizun while tearing apart him and everything he likes. Sqq loves to spend time among women - lbg will build his own harem, sqq is stiff and haughty and cruel and... - lbg will copy his behaviour so well. Lbg wears fansy clothing, his messy hair is tied nicely always always perfect in each detail. He looks stiff, strong and dangerous. He has pure jade skin and shiny eyes. He has no scars cause he doesn't need to harm himself while he can torture people he hates. Wow, he is also mad but in a destructive, cruel way. He will never be happy, having no chance to cure - no one can help him neither in his own world nor in others.

to sum this all up i really wanted to show that they'd chosen the path of selfdestruction instead of cultivation, but their paths were different and it affected not only their personality but also their outer look. I might eventually change the designs i went for, but i like them for now.

[lowkeyrobin]

headcannons where quackity's s/o has tattoos? could also be nsfw, if you're comfortable with it :))

I don't write NSFW but I can definitely do the tattoo part! thanks for requesting!! I don't think I've actually posted a quackity focused thing yet which is surprising to me bc I have like 3 drafts for him LMAO

QUACKITY ; tattooed lover

summary ; you have tattoos and your boyfriend is head over heels

warnings ; language; talk of needles / pain of tattoos, use of quackitys real name (lmk if I should change it!)

word count ; 670

genre ; fluff

masterlist

In general, he'll act normal about all your tattoos and whatnot, but inside every time he sees your arms (especially if you have sleeves or some sick ones around your wrists that trail up your arm even a bit) he'll just get a little red in the cheeks. He absolutely loves all your ink. He thinks it's so sick, but he's not committed enough to get any, and he doesn't think he has the pain tolerance.

he went with you to get a new tattoo on your shoulder/upper arm area

he learned you'd be there for like 5 hours and he groaned like a shitty iPad kid and took his phone out while he threatened to call Philza

once he saw the tattoo gun... oh lord it was over

literally whisper shouted at you while the artist got up to get gloves

"that's what you're getting jabbed with??? why are we here again???"

genuinely can't look

once he hears the buzzing he turns his music on and he's staring down while he sits on the couch across from you

"Alex, look!" you smile, "I'm fine"

"how do I know you're not a clone?"

"Holy shit. dude it's the quackityhq duck, that's why I brought you along"

"WAIT WHAT?"

it's not a big tattoo whatsoever, but it's a reminder that he's always with you, how you've grown together and how that's always going to be an era of your content you'd never forget about

literally gets emotional about it

"You didn't have-"

"I wanted to, for the millionth time"

he genuinely didn't know tattoos were so expensive, once you leave he questions why it was 450 dollars and you explain to him how tattoo artist income works

He's not the one to want to peel off the second skin or pop the ink bubbles or even touch the tattoo until the skin goes back to normal. He's just kinda freaked out for some reason, it's just one of those things and it honestly makes sense.

He takes some dedicated time to sniff all the lotions and numbing creams and comment on each and every one, though. All while you're trying to do some aftercare on it and shit, and you just watch.

"this one smells like buttercream icing"

"yeah?"

"ew, this one smells like badboyhalo's ass!"

"why would you even know that? 😁"

If you have any tats without color, Alex will gladly color them in with washable markers like you're a walking coloring book. He'll literally call for you and ask you if he can color on you again, it's cute, really.

"y/n/n, can I color your tattoos again?"

"aren't you streaming?"

"so?"

"yeah, fine"

he has a whole gallon sized ziploc bag filled with Crayola washable markers

like he goes from playing on the qsmp and hanging out with some people to coloring all over you while said people watch 😭

you wave to his friends like "Hello, I am his walking therapy coloring book"

he's like a little kid. You just look over at him like, "Holy shit I could love you forever wtf"

Sometimes, he'll just draw you new tattoos (with washable markers dw) cause he gets bored and wants to doodle on you. Most of the time it ends up being stick figures and dicks but it's okay, it's his way of showing affection.

He'll genuinely think of song that remind him of each of your tattoos. Somehow, some way, he does. He has a whole playlist titled 'Y/n's tattoos', and he rarely listens to it, but he thinks it's fun to think of a new song when you get another tattoo.

Although he is a little concerned because what's gonna happen when you're old and wrinkly? How do the tattoos last? Do they become old and wrinkly like the tattooed grandmas meme? Because if so, he'll rip on you til the end of time.

"well I have a long time before I look like a tattooed elderly person, but okay"

"So you will? Oh my fucking God! BAHAHAHA"

[callsignseagull]

all you had to do was stay ✪ part 7

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader

Summary: Six years ago Jake hit your life like a hurricane. In and out in a matter of weeks. You thought after you get over the disappointment of him leaving without saying a word you’d never think of him again. But then two pink lines change your life forever. Now he’s back and still has no idea that the little girl by your side is his daughter.

Words: 2k

Warnings: fluff, angst, me not knowing how the navy works lmao

A/N: Here’s part seven!! enjoy

feedback is always appreciated <3

series masterlist || masterlist

I love you, daddy.

The words have been repeating in Jake’s head ever since Josie uttered them. They’re what’s been keeping him going while mission training gets more intense. He spends every free moment with you and Josie, and he feels like you’re becoming a real family. He doesn’t think he’s ever been happier in his life. Not his first time flying a fighter jet, not when he graduated from the academy, not when he got to Top Gun the first time. This, being with you and Josie, makes him happy, gives him purpose. He didn’t know if he’d ever have kids. He’s thought about it when his first niece was born, but he didn’t have a partner, didn’t even date, so it seemed out of reach. And he thought maybe it was for the best. Little did he know he was already a father. When his eldest niece was born Josie was already a year old. And he had no idea. 

So now he wants to make up for lost time. And it’s starting to take its toll. He doesn’t get much sleep, but that’s the price he’s willing to pay to spend time with his daughter. And with you. 

He’s still focused at work, but it takes a lot more energy than usual. 

Coming back to Top Gun and finding out about Josie has changed Jake’s life in a way he never expected it to. And it didn’t only change his plans for the future but his priorities, too. Josie’s nightmare and almost kissing you the other night was an eye opener for him. He wants to spend as much time as possible with the two of you. Wants to be a real family. And now he feels like maybe he’s got a chance. That maybe you finally trust him again and that there are still at least some feelings for him left. He’ll do everything to make you his. He’ll wait forever if he needs to. 

He knows that his job will put a strain on things, that he won’t always be there when you need him. And he hates that. If it were up to him he’d never leave you and Josie out of his sight. Okay, that sounds a little creepy, but he doesn’t mean it in an overbearing way. He just doesn’t want to be without you.

He’s certain it won’t be easy for him to get the future he wants, to get the best of both worlds, but he’ll do everything in his power to make it happen. He’s already got the ball rolling on some changes. But he doesn’t know if it’ll work out. 

He’s got a long day of training ahead of him, the mission drawing closer quicker than he would like to, especially because he didn’t know where he was headed when he came back. If he came back.

He shakes his head, that’s no way to think about it. This is the most dangerous mission he’ll ever fly and there’s so much at stake. And he needs to get back to you and Josie. He needs to see Josie grow up. 

“Let’s go, Hangman.” Coyote’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he finally manages to get into his work mindset. He can’t afford to be distracted at work.   

✩̿✪̿✩̿

When Jake checks his phone after a day of training the most difficult maneuver he’s ever had to do, he’s got about thirty missed calls from you. His heart drops. Something must’ve happened. You rarely call him. Let alone thirty times. 

He calls you back immediately but he only reaches your voice mail. He tries again and again and again. 

Nothing.

He’s beyond worried, his thoughts are filled with worst case scenarios as he messily grabs his stuff, doesn’t even change into his regular clothes and bolts out the door. The rest of his squad are eyeing him with confused expressions but he doesn’t even notice them. All he can think about is that he needs to get to you. 

Since you’re still not picking up your phone he decides his best bet is driving to your house. See if you’re home. 

You’re not. 

Your car isn’t in the drive way and when he rings the doorbell no-one opens. All the lights are off and his only option is to wait. He keeps calling but you don’t pick up. He doesn’t know if you’re missing his calls because you don’t notice him calling or if you’re purposely not picking up the phone. 

He’s a mess. 

It’s almost two hours later when your car finally pulls into your driveway.

✩̿✪̿✩̿

Turns out that Josie broke her arm when she fell from the monkey bars. She doesn’t have to get surgery but they put a cast on her arm that needs to stay on for six weeks. Luckily, Josie is at that age where having a cast is cool and she wants all her friends to sign it. The whole thing might’ve been more traumatising for you than for her. Especially because of your anger towards Jake. He’s tried calling, but you were too stubborn to pick up. You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, show him what it’s like. Is it the most healthy thing to do? Definitely not. But you were a mess.

When you turn onto your street you can see Jake sitting on your porch steps. He’s still in his flight suit and his hair looks like he’s run his hand through it at least a million times. He must’ve sat there for a while. It makes you feel bad for a second but then you remember what you’ve gone through the past couple hours and you’re angry again. 

“I called you about a hundred times!” Jake says as you step out of the car. He’s walking towards you now, his eyes scanning over your body as if he’s looking for injuries.

“Well, so did I.” You open Josie’s door and help her out of the car. When she sees Jake her eyes light up.

“Daddy, look! I’ve got a cast! They made it my favourite colour!” She shows off the green cast that’s covering her forearm. “Will you sign it?”

“Of course, I’ll sign it.” He forces a smile. “What happened?” 

“I fell from the monkey bars on the playground. It hurt a lot but it’s all better now!”

“C’mon, honey let’s go inside.” You gently push against her back. Jake follows you but halts his steps before walking through the door. He looks uncertain.

“Will you stand out there all evening?” Your voice sounds irritated even to your own ears. And you are. There’s so much you wanna say to him right now but you can’t while Josie is around. Jake finally enters your house and closes the front door. 

You spend so much time at the hospital that it’s already past Josie’s bedtime, so that’s what you focus on first. You go through the motions, aware that Jake is always close by, watching as you help Josie brush her teeth and read her a bedtime story.

“Now it’s time for you to sleep, honey.” You put the book on her nightstand and watch as her eyelids get heavier by the second. Seems like the adrenaline is finally wearing off.

“Will you sign my cast now, daddy?” She yawns and even though you’re not looking at him you know there’s a small smile on his face.

“Of course.” Then you hear Jake moving through the room to get a pen from her desk. Josie reaches out her arm and when Jake crouches down next to you. He’s entirely too close, so you get up and take three steps back. 

Once he’s done he caps the pen, gives Josie a kiss on the forehead and tells her good night one more time. Then the two of you leave the room.

You can feel the tension rising as you make your way to the living room. You’re too wired up to sit down so you just stand there in the middle of the room, looking at him.

“I was worried sick!” Jake presses out. “You call me thirty times and then don’t pick up? Are you serious?”

“Well, you weren’t picking up your phone either.” You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“I was at work and I didn’t have my phone with me.” 

You shrug your shoulders. For some reason you wanna be mad at him. You want to channel all your frustrations and nerves and let it out on him. Maybe because you’re mad at yourself for wishing he’d been there with you. Or maybe because he’s the only person here right now. You’re full of emotions that you don’t know how to deal with. 

“And I was at the hospital with your daughter while she was in pain!” You feel tears brimming your eyes. “And you weren’t there! You weren’t there and I wanted you there and I hate it! I hate it, Jake! You came waltzing into our lives out of nowhere and now I need you to be there? It’s unfair! We were fine before you came along.” 

You can see the hurt in his eyes and it makes you want to shove the words back into your mouth. But that’s not how it works.

“You don’t need me, sweetheart. I know that. You’re the strongest person I know. Raising our girl on your own … And as much as I wanna be there for you every second of every day, I can’t.”

He’s speaking with so much honesty, it makes you deflate. He cares so much about Josie, he didn’t answer his phone because he couldn’t not because he didn’t want to. 

“You should’ve heard her scream, Jake. It was horrible.” The tears you’ve been holding in finally roll down your cheeks and within seconds Jake is there, wrapping his arms around you, soothingly rubbing your back. 

“I’m sorry I lashed out at you I know you didn’t have a choice. But I was just—“

“It’s okay. C’mere.” He holds you closer and you let yourself relax against his strong body. It’s been so long since you just let go. So that’s what you do, not caring what he thinks while you’re sobbing, no doubt leaving wet stains on his flight suit.  

“Why can’t you have a regular office job?” You murmur against his chest and Jake chuckles softly.

“But then we would’ve never met.” 

“True.” You let out a sigh. “Still sucks though.” 

It’s quiet for a couple moments while Jake softly sways you from side to side. You’ve never felt so safe. Then he clears his throat.

“I’m leaving for the mission soon.” That makes you look at him. “I can’t tell you anything about it, but … it’s dangerous.” 

You stiffen, “How dangerous?” 

Jake presses his lips together, looking at the ceiling before his eyes find yours again. “The most dangerous I’ve ever been a part of.”

“Jake …” 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You know I’m the best.” The shakiness in his voice betrays his words but you choose to ignore it. 

“How much longer until you leave?”

“I can’t really say. But I’ll come over to say goodbye before I leave… I wouldn’t leave without seeing you guys one more time.” There was so much meaning in him saying one more time, but you choose to ignore that as well. “And then when I’m back … I applied for an instructor position at Top Gun. It’s not an office job but I won’t be deployed as much and I’d be close to you guys.”

“What?” This is the first time you’re hearing about him even thinking about choosing a different career path.

“If everything goes to plan I’ll be moving to San Diego soon.” The corners of his mouth tick up.

“But… but you love flying.”

“I love Josie more. And I’ll still be flying, just not for the same reasons. And I’m not going to lie and tell you this is a completely safe position. It’s still dangerous and things happen. But I don’t wanna miss any more than I’ve already missed when it comes to Josie’s life. I wanna be there for all the important milestones.” 

Now you’re crying again but for a whole different reason.

“Jake.” 

“When you told me about her my priorities just shifted. For a really long time flying was the only thing I had. The only thing that gave me purpose. But now that I know about Josie … she’s biggest and most important purpose of all.” 

You really don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything and just hold him closer and rest your head against his shoulder.

___

only a few parts left!!

taglist: @annathesillyfriend​ ✪ @lovebittenbyevans​ ✪ @heyhihellowhatsup0​ ✪ @one-sweet-gubler​ ✪ @wooya1224​ ✪ @iammirrorball​ ✪ @lolcaca​ ✪ @caitsymichelle13​ ✪ @soulmates8​ ✪ @soleilgrec​ ✪ @lilylilyyyyyy​ ✪ @winters-queen​ ✪ @i0veless​ ✪ @the-romanian-is-bae​ ✪ @mandyppp​ ✪ @dempy​ ✪ @mizuki80 ✪ @averyhotchner ✪ @babyice1274​ ✪ @captain-fandomwriter58​ ✪ @hangmanscoming​ ✪ @caidi-paris​ ✪ @linkpk88​ ✪ @djs8891​ ✪ @lnmp89​ ✪ @startrekfangirl2233​ ✪ @gigisimsonmars ✪ @clancycucumber230 ✪ @emilyoflanternhill​ ✪ @roostersforevergirl​ ✪ @celestialeviereads​ ✪ @blackwidownat2814​ ✪ @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak​ ✪ @grxcisxhy-wp​ ✪ @atarmychick007​ ✪ @dakotakazansky​ ✪ @alana4610​ ✪ @memoriesat30​ ✪ @entertainmentgal8 ✪ @shanimallina87​ ✪ @smoothdogsgirl ✪ @i3k2ts​ ✪ @frenchtoastix​ ✪ @twsssmlmaa​ ✪ @elijahmikaelsonbitch​ ✪ @simpxmarvel​ ✪ @harrysgothicbitch​ ✪ @midwestmarvelbabe​ ✪ @lunamoonbby​

[belles-non-wallpapering-content]

Lunchbox E.S x FEM! reader

Overture-Everyday the guys offer you lunch, but you can't quite take them up on the offer.

CWs-Insecurity around eating and food, quasi-ED behaviors, mentions of possession, aliens, monsters. All of the ghostbusters are gossipy bitches, but Egon's still a sweetie and so is Ray.

A/N-Don't know how relatable this will be, but I like it and am moderately proud of it. Every Monday I'm doing a light angst, and if you want to read the other things I did/am doing this month you could do that here:  October Writing Master List

“Do you want anything for lunch? I think we’re ordering chinese–” They offered almost every day, and you always declined. You’d worked in the ghostbusters office for almost a month now, as the receptionist on days Janine was off or preferred to work at night. 

“No thank you, I’m ok.”

“Alright, let us know if you change your mind, we always order too much anyway.” Ray called out to you as they started to move upstairs to relax until their next call. 

“Ok, thanks guys. You should have another hour until the next appointment.” 

You spent another 20 minutes typing on the computer before the food came, and after one last offer to eat with them, the guys disappeared upstairs.

********

You tried not to eavesdrop on their conversations. It wasn’t often that they were upstairs while you were still working, when they aren’t on calls they’re usually in the lab. But when they were upstairs, you could hear them pretty clearly. 

“You know I’ve never seen her eat?”  Peter brought up, and you couldn’t ignore that.

“Yeah me neither.” Ray spoke up, but with a little more concern than Peter had.

“Do you think she’s an alien or something?” Honestly you weren’t sure if you should be offended. Of all things that were slightly odd about you, Winston thinking you were an alien because of your eating habits was a little shocking. 

“Maybe she’s possessed.” Peter laughing at you was not a rare occurrence, but that stung a little, since he was clearly joking. 

“She hasn’t shown any traits of possession since she started here.” Egon’s defense of you was–flattering, even if Peter was joking. Maybe it was just the bottom of the barrel, flattery-wise. But between the fact that the conversation had drifted to you being possessed, and the fact that you’d had a major league crush on Egon since you started, you would take what you could get.  

“I think she’s just not hungry.” Ray always was such a sweetie.

A loud buzzer rang out, which meant it was time to chart Egon’s fungi growth. You had to when they were out, but since Egon was here he was doing it himself. Unfortunately, that did not stop the other guys’ conversation.  

“She’s worked here for 3 weeks, I think we’re past the point of ‘not hungry’. Let’s talk monsters in human form.” Winston said, and you couldn’t say for sure if he was joking, but you were leaning towards no. 

“You could hear that?” You assumed it was a question, but the tone he used almost made it sound like a statement; one he was very concerned by. 

“Yeah. The giant hole in the ceiling does kind of lend itself to good acoustics. But it’s cool, no worries.” You really tried to brush it off, forcing a little bit of laughter out. Getting well into the uncanny valley of the unbothered, and Egon was not at all buying it. 

“No. I'm sorry about that, I’ll go get them to stop.” He stood straighter, grateful for the new next step in making you feel better. But that would only draw more attention, and make it worse. 

“Egon it’s ok, really. Go check on your spores, I heard the buzzer go off a second ago.” He gave one short nod, and then turned to go to his lab, still looking like a kicked puppy. He felt so guilty that not only would the guys say that, but that you could hear the whole thing. Equally matched with his guilt, was a mild concern for you. He came back about 15 minutes later, and thankfully the conversation had drifted away from you. 

“So should we be worried about your eating habits?” It was the first thing he said to you when he came back, marked by concern and said with the sincere tone with which he said anything. 

“I don’t think so. Why?” 

“You work approximately 12 hour shifts, yet none of us have seen you eat.”

“I don’t like to eat where I work, it’s no big deal.” The exterior you were really trying to keep up was slowly cracking under his sincere concern. He just had to be so damn nice.

“We could probably schedule in a short break for you, if you have too much work to stop.” He was coming up with a solid solution to a problem you didn’t have. But it was nevertheless appreciated. 

“No, it’s ok. It’s not that– I just don’t really like to eat in front of or like– around other people.”

“Why?” You should have known an ambiguous answer wouldn’t make this end any faster, if anything now he was intrigued.

“Just makes me nervous, I guess.”

“Do we make you uncomfortable?” He shuffled around a little, burying his hands in his pockets as he tried to maintain eye contact. The idea of that made him clearly upset, and you were quick to correct him. 

“No! It’s nothing like that, I just–I don’t know, it’s weird. But would you mind–not telling the other guys about this?”You really just wanted this conversation to end, fade into the obscurity of your memory, hopefully soon forgotten. 

“Are you sure?” He looked down his glasses at you, putting ever so slight pressure on you to make sure he got an honest answer. 

“Yes. It’ll be our little secret?” 

“Alright. But I would like to talk about this further.” You were saved by the bell as the phone on your desk started ringing. You leaned over to the phone before looking back to him. 

“Go eat your lunch, I have to take this.” 

While he may have agreed to leave the subject alone, not wanting to draw further attention to your discomfort, he had his own way of trying to help. He’d buy extra snacks and put some in your bag, even bringing sodas to put in your desk drawers so you’d get sugar throughout the day. You appreciated his extra care. So many people characterized him as distant, and far too logical, but he really did care for everyone in his life.

[altocat]

all 50 of those Honest fave character prompts for Sephiroth

( @izunias-meme-hole )

........*cracks knuckles* OKAY.

1. Do you project onto this character?

All the time, every day. Like Sephiroth, I can often be avoidant, depressed, and overly attached to my loved ones. The struggle is real lmao

2. Did you always like this character?

Before falling into fandom hell, I didn't really notice him much other than Kingdom Hearts stuff. Or the occasional thirst post online.

3. What first drew you to this character?

Crisis Core making him a sad soft baby that everyone is mean to lmao

4. Did you initially dislike/hate this character?

No. I always thought he had a cool design and a badass voice.

5. If this character were a woman, would you honestly still like them? Or in reverse, what if they were a man?

Of course! Sephiroth is a fascinating character regardless. His backstory is very unique and I don't think that would change.

6. Do you have any nicknames or pet names you use for this character?

I mostly just call him Seph. Sometimes Kittyroth. Sometimes "Mr. Compassion" whenever I'm being sarcastic about him. And sometimes just SMUGFUCK because that's what he is.

7. Does the character’s age matter to you?

Nah. Like I said, he's a fascinating character regardless.

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?

I feel like there are certain aspects of his character that you NEED to keep in--his catlike pupils, silver hair, etc. They are plot-related indicators of his heritage and genetics. Thirstposts aside, they are reminder that he is a lab-grown monster with alien blood running through his veins.

9. Does this character remind you of anyone you know? Does that affect how you see them?

Not really. Seph is pretty unique. And honestly I'd rather not know someone like him irl lolol

10. Do you see yourself in this character even without projecting?

Physically? Hell no. Emotionally? Sometimes. But that's on rare occasions where we can actually tell what he's thinking and feeling.

11. How did you “fall in love” with this character?

Watching Crisis Core cutscenes one rainy night in 2021.

12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

AU Redemption arc trilogy in which Zack and Aerith save Sephiroth from himself and he dismantles Shinra to become the planet's hero.

13. If you could draw effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw for this character?

I'd really like to illustrate a lot of fic scenes. Especially the trippier Jenova-focused ones.

14. Are you physically attracted to this character?

...Yeah lmao But I don't ship myself or my self-insert with him because NO lolol I think he's aesthetically pleasing but I don't associate myself with him in any romantic sense. That's just weird to me.

15. Are your thoughts surrounding this character usually sexual, non-sexual, or a mix of both?

Non-sexual. I'm more interested in his character progression/fall into villainy. Like yeah he's attractive and there are some seductive aspects of his personality. But he's just more interesting to dissect as a villain.

16. Have you ever cried when thinking about this character? Genuinely?

Several times lolol usually after First Soldier updates.

17. Have you ever felt physical pain over this character? (ex: physical heartache).

Miiiight have happened once in dms with other fans (thanks @heraldofcrow)

18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both?

SUFFER. SUFFERRRRRRR 😈NO COMFORT FOR YOU ALL IS PAIN AND ANGUISH.

19. Does this character serve as a stress ball/ security blanket for you? Something you run to after a bad day to feel safe or happier?

Oh totally. All the time. Imagine cute aggression but it's more angsty lol Angst aggression.

20. Do you feel affectionate towards this character?

For Sane!Sephiroth, yes. Very much so. Not so much after Nibelheim. Then he's just an evil little shit who needs to get clowned by Cloud again.

21. Are your feelings about this character platonic, romantic, or familial? All of these feelings at once maybe?

Platonic-familial. He's my precious baby boy. Who I have to hurt. LET ME HURT HIM.

22. Do you think you will always love this character?

I hope so! Assuming Square doesn't do something stupid.

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

I'm HERE. lmao There's your evidence.

24. Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.

I never have dreams about him and it makes me SO MAD SZDFGHFDSA EVERYONE ELSE GETS BLORBO DREAMS EXCEPT FOR ME.

25. What kind of fan-fiction do you read about this character? If you don’t read fan-fics about them, why not?

I mostly like character studies. Or slow-burn AU fics with him. I'm currently reading The Fear of Falling Stars and it's sooooo good.

26. If you look for this character’s name on AO3, what tags are you including or excluding?

It really depends on the fic tbh.

27. Do you like to ship this character with other characters or do you prefer not to?

I SHIP HIM WITH EVERYONE *feral noises*

28. Do you get defensive about this character? If yes, then why?

Only in select instances. I don't like the dudebro logic of "well Sephiroth was always arrogant/evil even before Nibelheim and he can't be vulnerable or sensitive because that's not badass" because those are fundamentally not true. And an extreme disservice to his writing.

29. Do you affectionately bully this character?

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

30. Are you especially sensitive about this character?

He makes me sad. His story is heartbreaking.

31. Are you ashamed of liking this character?

Nope. Not at all.

32. If you could make this character a meal, what would you make them?

Pumpkin soup, of course!

33. Are you “blinded by love” for this character or do you accept any flaws they may have?

Oh not at all. I have said many many times and will keep saying that Sephiroth does not deserve a happy ending after everything he's done. He deserves to be destroyed for good. He's NOT a good guy, not any more at least. He's caused so much damage in so many horrible ways. There's no going back from that. I love the guy and I feel for him. But that's still no excuse for what he did.

34. Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life?

Uhhhh no.

35. Has this character ever prevented you from sleeping because you can’t stop thinking about them?

@ me whenever First Soldier updates.

36. Do you feel a spiritual/soulmate connection with this character?

Idk. Probably not. He's my angsty trauma son. But I wouldn't go THAT far lol

37. Is your love for this character a secret from people you know in real life?

Nope. I will literally never shut up about Sephiroth to family or friends lololol

38. Do you tend to joke more about dying or killing for this character? Both? What causes the distinction?

NO because Sephiroth is a villain and the goal is to not become like him lolol

39. Do you feel lovesick over this character?

Nope. He just makes me casually distraught.

40. Are you very empathetic towards this character? When they feel a certain way in the story, do you feel those emotions too?

Very much so. Like I said before, his story is heartbreaking. I've ugly cried about him so many times in the past.

41. Do you prefer to interact with this character directly via self-insert/reader type content? Or do you enjoy seeing them mostly with other characters in the story and/or your OCs?

Other than background OCs, no. I prefer mostly just his relationship with canon characters.

42. If you could, would you write this character a song or poem?

It'd be cool to do something creepy with his relationship with Jenova...

43. What type of weather makes you think of this character?

Rainy days. Because he's depressing.

44. Which season makes you think of this character?

Fall.

45. Do you feel as if you are intimately familiar with this character?

At this point, I'd really like to hope so. They have certainly added a lot of new stuff that feels on point with my previous ideas for him. But I'm open to new stuff too!

46. How much do bad interpretations of this character upset you?

It really depends on how they characterize him as a person before Nibelheim. I don't really like how people sometimes equate his evil/smug/arrogant post-Nibelheim personality with his CC-era one. They're really completely different.

47. Does this character ever make you laugh sincerely?

He made some the FUNNIEST goddamn faces in Rebirth, just sayin'.

48. What’s your favorite physical/design feature for this character?

R trilogy has the best overall design. Hair, eyes, and the sheer SIZE of him. All perfect.

49. What’s your favorite personality trait in this character?

Sane!Seph: His love for his friends

Insane!Seph: Him being a huge petty dick just for the sake of it

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

UHHHHHHHHHHH I'm just going to cheat and say THIS ENTIRE COMMUNITY because Seph-fans are BEST fans and we get along and get shit done. Best content. Best fandom space. No in-fighting or drama on his character. We're ALL peak 😎

[winpocalypse]

the 11x04 (baby) car sex scene (with feelings) that was missing from our brotherlovers for the bottom!sam enjoyers out there On AO3

It’s not like it’s the first time it happens. It’s just the first time in a long time — maybe years and years? —, and maybe it’s the first time happening in the front seat. All crowded, tight and hot. Sam’s having the most difficult time out of the two, with his long limbs, trying to fit where he can’t, his shoulders hunched, while his brother sits back with a big old smirk. Those are rare nowadays. 

That last time, so long ago, Dean was oh, so pissed. It was not uncommon for Dean to be pissed, really, it was like saying he had green eyes. Just a fact of life. But it stuck out that time because with all the arguing they did when Sam came back from Stanford, they went through a period of silence. A silence louder than all the pranks, yelling and old school rock. And then, that night, right before that last time, Dean was yelling again. Hoarser than ever. It sounded a lot like John, actually. But for that time, Sam was not yelling back. He snapped back less and less since they were joined by— some angels, was it? Then, it happened all fast and angry in the backseat. 

“Let me ease it up for ya,” Dean says with that casual humor of his, but the rough edge to his voice is anything but. Sam probably notices it. The kid spent so much of his years just staring at his left, he can draw that profile with eyes closed. He knows everything about his big brother, every line to his face, every tone to his voice, no doubt.

Dean opens the door to the driver’s seat, and pushes his seat back, as Sam steps one foot to the ground, at some dirty desert road, and readjusts himself on top. He stops for a second, hesitates, his eyes suddenly serious in contrast to Dean’s crow’s feet. Some things never change, even with all the years, the messes, the fights. They always come back to their roots, and Sam gotta worry while Dean gotta divert.

“What, thinking about Piper?”

Sam huffs, “Shut up.”

“She really released something in you, huh? Or rather, you did on her—”

“She didn’t do anything, I—” Sam takes a breath. “I was thinking about this for a while.”

“Were you now?” Dean’s hands are anxious where Sam can’t see them. His fingers seem eager to grab at Sam’s hips, but they just dance around, grazing at the shirt. “With all that talk about settling down, finding yourself a girl?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Shut up.”

They both smile at each other, and it’s obviously a release of some sort, a big relief, even though their lips don’t stretch as wide anymore, not for years. The new normal for them is fairly contained smiles and exchanged looks, but there’s little moments that resemble, just lightly, what they let pass. But this ain’t a little moment. It’s a pretty defining one, it seems.

“You can touch me, you know,” Sam whispers when his smile fades. Dean’s anxious fingers find their way to Sam’s hips, now almost shy.

“It’s been a while. More than a while.”

“I know.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Let’s worry about that after we make sure you can get it up.”

Dean Winchester was never one to receive teasing lightly. Now, he grabs Sam with intent, his fingers digging and finding their way underneath the shirt. And he yanks. The space is minimal already, but he does so Sam slides in his lap, even if just a little, making both of them groan. “The day I can’t get it up is the day I’m a dead man.”

Sam laughs and his cheeks get flushed. This doesn’t happen often or at all. It surely didn’t with the girl— Piper? Yeah, for that, he was laid back, confident. Right here, with the blush, the trembling fingers, and quivering breath, Sam seems like a different person. 

He stretches his arm to the backseat, laying his weight completely on Dean, who grunts, “Yeah, don’t mind me.” Sam finds his backpack, an old thing he’s been carrying since— since forever, really, probably also carrying the stains of every road trip. Maybe they’re souvenirs. 

“Y’know, I don’t need a blanket,” Dean says by his brother’s ear and Sam shivers, landing a shove at his shoulder as he comes back to his position, with some small plastic bottle in hand. 

Dean’s hands reach further inside Sam’s shirt. “Sam Winchester, ladies and gentlemen.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be prepared.”

“Well, think again,” Dean says, smug, as he reaches down, under the seat and comes up with a plastic container of his own. 

Sam looks at it, wary. “How long has that been in there?”

“Well, how long you got yours?”

“Mine’s brand new!”

“I don’t believe that for a second, we’re using mine.”

“No, we’re not.” Sam tries fetching it, but Dean shoves his hand back. “C’mon, dude.”

“If you want a piece of this, we’re using mine.”

Sam sighs. “Fine,” he says and Dean’s smile grows bigger for a second, until Sam backs away, supporting himself at the open door to get up.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Dean tugs at Sam’s belt until he’s back in his lap. He lifts his plastic bottle in Sam’s face and then throws it out the door. With his smile back, he takes Sam’s own little bottle, opening up the cap. “Ride it, cowboy.”

“God,” Sam says between amused and disappointed. It’s a combination often used concerning Dean. 

Sam drops his forehead to Dean’s shoulder and they breathe together for a little while. Both of them trying to calm each other’s nerves, it seems, without saying anything. They rely a lot on not saying anything, some form of otherly communication. But this time, at least, it appears to do the trick. Sam has his hand by Dean’s shoulder, as Dean soothes his brother’s back with gentle fingers. 

“You know,” Dean says after a few minutes, voice tight. “I didn’t think you would ever want to do this.”

Sam’s body tenses, just slightly, and Dean’s fingers press harder against his back. “Yeah,” Sam whispers. 

“You sure?”

“I am.”

Dean turns his face, kissing Sam’s temple and they both exhale together, closing their eyes. Their movements are slow, deliberate, completely new to them. They share their breaths, slide their noses together, tease at kissing. They take their time. Up until their lips actually touch, and Dean’s pushing forward, pressing his hands firmly, opening up his mouth. Sam follows along, his fingers running through Dean’s hair, pressing close and undulating his hips. 

Dean groans into their kiss, “Ah fuck.”

They don’t take their time after that. 

Sam’s pants are by the floor outside, Dean’s are by his knees, constricting his movements. They’re out of their jackets and shirts, only the dark t-shirts left, the one Sam’s wearing folded up to his chest, where Dean’s not leaving an inch of skin untouched. 

They rock together, clinging to each other, sharing sweat, spit and sounds and leaving all the evidence in the seats. Dean grunts where Sam whimpers, he moans where his brother gasps, and they swallow the noises with haste. 

It goes for such a long time, the sky changes and the cold breeze intensifies. There’s little moments of rest, when Sam loses the strength in his thighs and they just collapse into each other, their chests pressed together, fighting for air, just like now. 

Dean cradles Sam’s face, moving his hair out of their faces. “Up for another one, Sammy?”

“How the hell are you still standing?” Sam sounds out of breath.

“I told you, gotta be a dead man first.”

“Just— give me a minute.”

Dean reaches for the glove compartment. “Hold up, I got something to get you in the mood again.” He finds a tape and puts it on, while Sam just rests his head against his, eyes closed. He must be so tired, he doesn’t even complain about the awkward position. 

And then Dean turns up the volume. The song is one Dean, as a kid, blasted all the time, bobbing his head and singing the lyrics all wrong, next to a smiling John and a fed up Sammy. 

Born To Be Wild by Steppenwolf is what makes Sam jolt back up. “Are you serious?”

“That’s such a mood booster, come on.”

“I just went soft.”

“And I got harder.”

“I can feel you, you jerk.”

“You have to feel the lyrics, man.”

“Don’t say that stuff when you’re deep inside of me.”

Dean laughs and sings, “Yeah, darling, gonna make it happen. Take the world in a love embrace. Fire all your guns at once— C’mon!”

“Yeah, that’s a wrap.”

Dean turns the volume down, next to a whisper, and his fingers trace back to Sam, his partially naked back all the way down to his crack where they’re joined and his other hand finds its way to the small space between them. It’s so obvious Dean loves the noises he gets out of Sam, the way his big eyes sparkle, locked on Sam’s face. 

They kiss, slower than before, and Dean opens a big smile through it when Sam begins moving his hips, just a little. 

“I missed you, you know,” Sam says, low and lazy.

“I missed you, too.”

“I missed this version of us.”

They look at each other, now both of them serious, but soft around the eyes. Again communicating without words, but landing the message this time. “I missed that, too.”

The smiles they share now are even softer than that first year they came back together after some time apart, when they stole so many glances. Dean breaks the moment, of course, with a light slap to Sam’s butt. “Now, get to work.”

“Dean, you’re going to kill me.”

“Nah, that’s not happening, especially now. Darkness be damned.”

Sam shakes his head, a fond and tired smile on display, but his hips are increasing in speed, as Dean hums against his temple.

Like a true nature's child

We were born, born to be wild

We can climb so high

I never wanna die

[cynic-spirit]

Arches and Turns ii

warnings

excessively long because I have no self control

lots of fluff

As Benny steps into the quiet of his home, the familiar surroundings offer little comfort. He flicks on a light, the soft glow barely reaching the corners of the room. Normally, this space is his sanctuary, where he can unwind after a long ride, but tonight, the stillness only amplifies the whirlwind of emotions inside him.

He paces around, trying to shake off the frustration from earlier, but the image of Y/N—standing on that bridge, holding his lighter, her shy smile—won’t leave his mind. He can still hear her voice, soft and hesitant, yet somehow it had reached deep into him, stirring something he hadn’t felt in years.

Dropping down onto his worn leather couch, Benny lets out a heavy sigh. The realization hits him like a freight train—he’s in love.

It’s not just her beauty, though that’s what first drew him in. It’s the way she carries herself, the way she’s become such a constant in his life without either of them saying a word. Every day, he’s watched her from a distance, learning little things about her—how she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear when she reads, how her eyes light up at certain passages, how she seems to find peace on that bridge, just like he does.

And now, as he sits here, the silence pressing in on him, Benny realizes just how deeply she’s embedded herself in his heart. It’s more than just an attraction; it’s a connection he’s never felt before, something that’s grown quietly but powerfully over time.

“I love her,” he whispers to the empty room, the words feeling strange yet so undeniably true.

For a moment, fear grips him—fear of what this means, of how vulnerable it makes him. Benny has always been tough, someone who kept his emotions in check, never letting anyone get too close. But Y/N has changed that, without even trying. She’s made him want something more, something real.

As the night deepens, Benny finds himself filled with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. He knows he can’t just let this go. He has to tell her, has to find a way to bridge the gap between them. But for now, all he can do is sit with this newfound realization, letting it settle into his bones.

He loves her. The thought both terrifies and exhilarates him, but he knows one thing for sure—he can’t go back to the way things were. Not now, not after understanding just how much she means to him.

Y/N is a woman who naturally blends into the background, the kind of person who is often present but rarely noticed. She has a quiet demeanor, her voice soft and measured, never raised above what is necessary. There’s a serenity about her that draws people in, even if they can’t quite figure out why.

Physically, Y/N has long, flowing black hair that she often wears loose or in a simple braid, which falls gracefully down her back. Her eyes are a deep, expressive shade, often downcast or hidden behind a curtain of hair when she’s deep in thought. Her features are delicate, almost ethereal, with a quiet beauty that doesn’t demand attention but rather reveals itself the more you look at her.

Y/N’s shyness is not rooted in insecurity but rather in a preference for observation over participation. She’s a listener, someone who takes in the world around her with an attentive gaze, noticing details others might overlook. In a crowd, she’s the one who lingers at the edges, content to watch and listen rather than engage. Her words are few but thoughtful, often carrying more weight than those who speak freely.

Her reserved nature makes her somewhat mysterious to those around her. She doesn’t easily share her thoughts or feelings, not out of fear but because she values her privacy and the sanctity of her inner world. When she does speak, it’s with a quiet confidence that surprises people, as though the strength in her voice is something they didn’t expect.

Despite her shyness, there is an undeniable warmth to Y/N. She is kind, with a gentle heart that shows in small, thoughtful gestures—like remembering someone’s favorite tea or offering a comforting word at just the right moment. Her empathy is profound, though she rarely speaks of it, preferring to support others quietly, from behind the scenes.

Her reserved nature doesn’t mean she is without passion. Y/N is deeply passionate about the things she loves, though these are often private, solitary pursuits. Whether it’s a love for books, music, or nature, she immerses herself fully, finding solace in the quiet moments that these activities provide. It’s in these moments of solitude that she feels most like herself, free from the expectations of the world.

Y/N’s quietness can sometimes be misunderstood as aloofness, but those who take the time to know her understand that she is simply more comfortable in her own company or in the presence of those she trusts deeply. She has a small circle of close friends, people who see beyond her shy exterior to the thoughtful, compassionate person underneath.

In relationships, Y/N is slow to open up, but when she does, it’s with a depth of emotion that is both surprising and unwavering. She loves quietly but fiercely, with a loyalty that runs deep. She may not be the one to initiate grand gestures, but her love is shown in the small, consistent ways she cares for those important to her.

Ultimately, Y/N is a woman of quiet strength, someone who finds power in her solitude and peace in her reserved nature. She may not be the loudest voice in the room, but her presence is felt by those who take the time to truly see her.

Benny sits at the bar, nursing a drink, the loud music and the clamor of the club fading into the background as his thoughts drift to Y/N. He’s been on edge ever since that moment on the bridge, replaying the brief exchange over and over in his mind. He’s been coming to the club more often, partly to drown out his confusion and partly in the vain hope that he might see her again.

He’s halfway through his second drink when Kathy, a regular at the club and someone he’s known casually for a while, slides onto the stool next to him. They exchange pleasantries, talking about the usual things—the weather, the latest club gossip—before Kathy mentions something that immediately catches Benny’s attention.

“You know Y/N, right?” Kathy asks casually, swirling her cocktail.

Benny’s grip on his glass tightens. “Yeah, I know her,” he says, trying to keep his voice even, though his heart suddenly starts pounding in his chest. “She’s a friend of yours?”

Kathy nods, smiling softly. “Yeah, we’ve been friends for a long time. She’s such a sweet girl, isn’t she? Quiet, but really kind.”

Benny feels a rush of warmth at hearing someone else acknowledge the qualities in Y/N that he’s come to admire so deeply. But before he can say anything, Kathy continues, her tone shifting slightly.

“She’s been a bit distracted lately, though,” Kathy says, a hint of concern in her voice. “I guess it’s because of the whole marriage thing.”

Benny’s heart skips a beat. “Marriage thing?” he repeats, his voice a little more strained than he’d intended.

Kathy nods again, oblivious to the way Benny’s world is starting to tilt. “Yeah, she’s sort of in an arranged marriage situation. Her family’s been setting it up, and it sounds like it’s going to happen pretty soon.”

The words hit Benny like a punch to the gut. His breath catches in his throat, and for a moment, he feels like the room is spinning. Y/N—his Y/N—is about to marry someone else? The thought is too much to bear. He’d been so focused on his own feelings, on figuring out how to express what she meant to him, that he’d never considered the possibility that she might already be spoken for.

“Are you okay, Benny?” Kathy’s voice pulls him back to the present, her expression tinged with concern.

He forces a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… surprised, I guess. I didn’t know she was engaged.”

Kathy nods sympathetically. “Yeah, it’s kind of a traditional thing. Her family’s really involved, so she’s going along with it, but I think she’s a bit torn about the whole situation.”

Benny doesn’t trust himself to speak. He can feel the cracks forming in the armor he’s built around his heart, the hope he’d been clinging to shattering with each passing second. The idea of Y/N with someone else—someone who isn’t him—tears him apart in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

He finishes his drink in one gulp, the burn of the alcohol doing little to numb the pain. Kathy continues talking, but her words become a blur in his mind. All he can think about is Y/N, standing on that bridge, and how he might never get the chance to tell her how he feels.

When Kathy finally excuses herself to join some friends, Benny remains at the bar, staring blankly at his empty glass. His mind is racing, trying to process the news, but all he feels is a crushing sense of loss. He’d been so close to something real, something that could have changed his life. And now, it’s slipping through his fingers, leaving him hollow and aching.

As the night wears on, Benny knows he has to make a decision. He can either let Y/N go, accepting that she belongs to someone else, or he can fight for her, even if it means going against tradition and risking everything.

But for now, all he can do is sit in the club, surrounded by people yet utterly alone, his heart breaking at the thought of losing the woman he’s come to love.

Benny stumbles out of the club, the pounding music fading into the background as he steps into the cool night air. The noise and chaos inside had been overwhelming, but out here, the quiet is almost suffocating. His mind is a tangled mess of emotions—shock, confusion, and a deep, gnawing sense of loss. He can’t make sense of it all, can’t quite grasp the reality that Y/N might belong to someone else.

He lights a cigarette, hoping the familiar routine will calm his racing thoughts, but even the nicotine does little to soothe the turmoil inside him. As he takes a drag, he notices Kathy standing a few feet away, also smoking, her eyes scanning the crowd that’s trickling out of the club.

She catches his eye and gives him a small, almost apologetic smile. “Tough night, huh?”

Benny nods, not trusting himself to speak. He’s afraid his voice might betray the storm brewing inside him. But before he can say anything, Kathy’s gaze shifts to something—or someone—behind him.

“There he is,” she says, her tone casual, as if pointing out someone she knows from around town. “That’s Michael, the guy Y/N’s supposed to marry.”

Benny turns slowly, following her gaze. At first, he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Michael is standing near a parked car, chatting with a couple of friends, oblivious to the fact that he’s just become the focus of Benny’s intense scrutiny.

He’s well-dressed, tall, and has an air of confidence about him. The kind of guy who looks like he’s got everything figured out, who probably hasn’t had to fight for much in his life.

Jealousy strikes Benny like a lightning bolt, quick and searing, igniting a fire in his chest that burns with anger. It’s not just the idea of Y/N with someone else that infuriates him—it’s the thought that this guy, this Michael, gets to be with her, to hold her, to love her.

Benny clenches his fists, feeling the surge of emotions that he’s been trying to push down all night. The jealousy is almost overwhelming, an acidic mix of anger and pain that tightens his throat and churns his stomach.

“Can’t believe she’s with him,” he mutters, more to himself than to Kathy. His voice is rough, barely disguising the bitterness he feels.

Kathy shrugs, taking another drag of her cigarette. “It’s more of a family thing, you know? Arranged marriages are like that. Doesn’t mean she’s happy about it.”

But her words do little to ease the turmoil within Benny. All he can focus on is Michael standing there, so unaware of the war raging in Benny’s mind. He imagines confronting him, demanding answers, maybe even throwing a punch just to feel some kind of release from the frustration building inside him. But deep down, Benny knows that won’t change anything.

The thought of Y/N being tied to Michael feels like a betrayal, though he knows it’s irrational. She’s never promised him anything, never even hinted at a future together. But that doesn’t change the fact that, somewhere along the line, Benny had started imagining what it would be like if she were his—if she chose him.

His jaw tightens as he forces himself to look away from Michael, trying to push down the wave of anger threatening to overtake him. It doesn’t matter who this guy is or how perfect he might seem. What matters is what Benny is going to do about it—whether he’s going to let Y/N slip away without a fight or whether he’s going to try to win her, even if it means risking everything.

Kathy finishes her cigarette and flicks the butt into the gutter, glancing at Benny with a sympathetic look. “You okay?” she asks, her voice softer now, sensing the struggle he’s going through.

Benny takes a deep breath, the air cold in his lungs, but it does nothing to cool the fire raging within him. “Yeah,” he lies, his voice low and strained. “I’m fine.”

But he’s not. He’s far from fine. As he watches Michael climb into his car and drive off, Benny knows that something has to give. He can’t keep feeling like this, torn between his love for Y/N and the painful reality of her impending marriage.

He stubs out his cigarette and looks at Kathy, giving her a tight nod before walking toward his bike. He doesn’t know what his next move is, but he knows one thing for sure—he can’t just stand by and do nothing.

Y/N and Michael stood on the old stone bridge, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows around them. The water below shimmered, but neither of them seemed to notice the beauty of the evening. Their faces were tense, reflecting the weight of the conversation that was unfolding.

“I just… I don’t know how to tell them,” Michael admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “My parents have this idea of me, this perfect image, and I’m terrified of shattering it.”

Y/N nodded, understanding all too well the pressure that came from family expectations. “But you have to, Michael. You can’t keep living a lie, and neither can I. If we go through with this marriage, we’ll both be miserable, and it won’t take long before everyone else is too.”

Michael looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think I might be gay.”

Y/N’s expression softened, her heart aching for him. She placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Then you need to tell them. It’s going to be hard, but it’s the only way. This marriage… it isn’t right for either of us.”

Michael let out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. “I know. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, but the thought of disappointing them... it kills me. They’ve worked so hard to build our business, and they see this marriage as a way to secure our future.”

Y/N squeezed his arm gently. “But your happiness matters too. You can’t sacrifice yourself for the sake of business. And neither can I. We need to be honest with them, even if it means disappointing them. We owe it to ourselves to live authentically, and not just for their sake.”

Michael looked up at her, a small, grateful smile forming on his lips. “You’re right. We can’t let them dictate our lives. I’ll talk to them. I just… I hope they understand.”

“They will,” Y/N assured him. “Maybe not at first, but eventually they will. And if they don’t, at least you’ll know you were true to yourself. That’s what matters.”

Michael nodded, his resolve hardening. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m glad we talked. I feel like I can actually breathe now.”

Y/N smiled back at him, a warmth in her eyes. “Me too. We’ll get through this, together.”

Without thinking, Michael pulled her into a friendly hug, a gesture of solidarity rather than romance. They both knew that whatever their families had planned, they were in this together, as friends, not as lovers.

But from a distance, Benny was watching. Hidden in the shadows near his usual spot, he had lit cigarette after cigarette, the smoke curling around him like a suffocating shroud. He could see them clearly, standing close, talking, and then... hugging.

The sight made his blood boil, anger and jealousy roaring through him like a wildfire. His hand trembled slightly as he brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside him.

To Benny, it looked like betrayal, like Y/N had chosen Michael over him, and the sight of them embracing felt like a punch to his gut. He felt like he was being suffocated, the jealousy tightening around his chest like a vise, making it hard to breathe. Every puff of smoke he exhaled felt like a desperate attempt to release the pressure building inside him, but it only seemed to make it worse.

His mind raced, thoughts tangled in a chaotic mess. Was this really happening? Was Y/N really going to marry that guy? The thought of Michael holding her, kissing her, loving her, drove Benny to the brink of madness. He couldn’t stand it. The jealousy gnawed at him, turning his vision red with rage and heartache.

He took another drag, the cigarette burning down to the filter. His teeth clenched, and his fists balled up at his sides, desperate to do something—anything—to stop what he thought was happening. He couldn’t lose Y/N, not like this, not to someone like Michael.

As the two of them pulled away from their hug, Benny crushed the cigarette beneath his boot, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The jealousy that consumed him was like poison, seeping into every fiber of his being. He could feel his control slipping, the calm, collected exterior he usually maintained cracking under the weight of his emotions.

He didn’t know what he was going to do, but one thing was clear—he couldn’t stand by and let Y/N slip through his fingers. He had to do something before it was too late.

Benny had been avoiding the bridge for days now, choosing instead to drown his thoughts in the dim, smoky atmosphere of the club. He tried to distract himself with the usual rowdiness—the blaring music, the clinking of glasses, the crude laughter of his fellow bikers—but nothing could pull him out of the dark cloud that had settled over him. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Y/N and Michael on that bridge, locked in an embrace that haunted him like a nightmare.

He sat at his usual spot, slouched over a drink, staring blankly at the worn wood of the table in front of him. His fingers drummed anxiously, betraying the turmoil inside him. He couldn’t shake the anger, the jealousy, the deep sense of loss that gnawed at him. What had life thrown at him? First, he’d lost the girl he was falling for to some arranged marriage, and now this?

Kathy and Johnny sat across from him, their conversation buzzing around him like background noise. Benny hardly paid attention, lost in his own thoughts until Johnny’s voice cut through.

“Hey Benny, meet the new guy. Fresh blood for the Vandals,” Johnny said with a grin, clapping the newcomer on the back.

Benny looked up, and the sight of Michael standing there, looking just as polished and out of place as he had on the bridge, sent a fresh wave of anger through him. Michael? Here? In his club?

Michael extended his hand toward Benny, a polite smile on his face. “Nice to meet you.”

Benny stared at the outstretched hand, his jaw tightening. His fists clenched under the table, and he felt a surge of anger that nearly made him snap. He didn’t say a word, didn’t move an inch to shake Michael’s hand. Instead, he gave him a cold, hard stare before abruptly standing up and moving to another table without a word.

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Johnny and Kathy exchanged a confused look as Benny walked away. Michael let his hand drop awkwardly, clearly puzzled by the hostility.

Kathy watched Benny go, her brows furrowing with concern. She waited a moment before excusing herself. “I’ll be right back,” she told Johnny, before heading over to where Benny had seated himself, sulking in a corner booth.

“Why were you so curt with him?” Kathy asked as she slid into the booth across from Benny.

Benny didn’t respond immediately, his eyes locked on the amber liquid in his glass. He swirled it around absently, trying to swallow down the emotions that were threatening to spill out. He felt like he was on the verge of exploding, the mix of anger and confusion choking him.

Kathy leaned in closer, her voice softening. “Benny, what’s going on? Why are you so upset? Is it about Y/N?”

The mention of Y/N’s name made Benny’s chest tighten. He let out a harsh breath, rubbing his forehead. “You wouldn’t understand, Kathy.”

“Try me,” she pressed, her tone gentle but insistent.

Benny hesitated before finally speaking, his voice low and bitter. “First, I find out Y/N is getting married to that guy. Then I come here, trying to get away from it all, and what do I see? Him walking into my club like he belongs here. It’s like the universe is trying to screw me over.”

Kathy’s expression softened with understanding. “Benny, I didn’t know it was eating at you like this. But… you should know, the engagement is off.”

Benny’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise. “What?”

Kathy nodded, a slight smile playing on her lips. “Apparently, Michael’s gay. That’s why they called off the engagement. Y/N and Michael agreed it wasn’t right to go through with it. So, you don’t have to worry about losing her to him.”

A wave of relief washed over Benny, so strong that he almost felt dizzy. The tightness in his chest eased, and for the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe again. He leaned back in his seat, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as the realization sunk in.

“Is that true?” Benny asked, almost afraid to believe it.

“Yeah, it is,” Kathy confirmed, watching his reaction closely. “They’re just friends now, nothing more.”

Benny felt a rush of joy, an overwhelming sense of relief that made him want to laugh out loud. Y/N wasn’t going to marry Michael. She wasn’t going to be with him, and maybe, just maybe, that meant Benny still had a chance.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t know what to say… I feel like an idiot.”

Kathy smiled, leaning back in her chair. “You’re not an idiot, Benny. You care about her. And now that you know the truth, maybe you can stop sulking and actually do something about it.”

Benny nodded, a renewed sense of determination filling him. He wasn’t going to let this chance slip away. Not now, not after everything he’d been through. He still had a shot with Y/N, and he wasn’t going to waste it.

Benny’s heart pounded as he made his way to the stone bridge, the familiar path both comforting and nerve-wracking after the days he’d spent avoiding it. The evening air was cool, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth. As he approached, he saw her—Y/N—leaning against the bridge, a book in hand, her long black hair gently blowing in the breeze.

The sight of her filled him with a mix of emotions: relief, nervousness, anticipation. He hadn’t seen her in days, and now that she was here, he found himself unsure of what to say. But before he could overthink it, Y/N looked up, a warm smile spreading across her face.

“Hey there, I haven’t seen you in a while,” she greeted him, her voice light and welcoming.

Benny rubbed the back of his head, a sheepish grin on his face. “Yeah, I’ve been a little out of sorts,” he admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed as he said it. He could tell she noticed the awkwardness in his tone, but there was no judgment in her eyes, just a quiet understanding.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her gaze softening. “How have you been?” she asked, her tone genuinely curious.

Benny took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “It’s been… rough, I guess. But I’m here now, so I guess that’s something.” He chuckled lightly, trying to ease the tension he felt inside.

Y/N nodded, as if she understood perfectly. “I get that,” she said, her eyes drifting back to the water beneath the bridge. “It’s been a whirlwind of a week for me too, but it’s nothing to worry about. Things are better now.”

She let out a small sigh, one that seemed to carry the weight of everything she’d been through. Benny watched her closely, noticing how she seemed both relieved and tired, as if she had finally come out the other side of a storm.

Then, she smiled at him, a bit of mischief in her eyes. “Boy, I really could use a cigarette right now.”

Benny’s heart skipped a beat at her words. He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack, flipping it open. Before he could offer her one, Y/N shook her head, smiling. “You know what? Let’s share one. I’ve been trying to cut back.”

Benny’s cheeks flushed at the suggestion, a warmth spreading through him that he hadn’t expected. “Uh, sure,” he stammered, feeling strangely shy. He handed her a cigarette and struck a match, the tiny flame flickering between them as he lit it.

As she took the first drag, she held the cigarette out to him, their fingers brushing slightly as he took it from her. Benny felt his heart skip another beat at the small contact, a sensation that seemed to linger long after the moment passed.

“Thanks,” Y/N said, exhaling slowly, the smoke curling up into the evening air. She leaned back against the bridge, visibly relaxing as the nicotine worked its magic.

Benny took a drag from the cigarette she’d just handed him, the taste of it mingling with the faint trace of her on the filter. The silence between them was comfortable, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. But there was so much he wanted to say, so much he needed to ask.

“You mentioned it’s been a crazy week,” Benny began cautiously, his voice low. “Is everything okay?”

Y/N took another drag when he passed the cigarette back, her eyes focused on the horizon as she blew out the smoke. “Yeah, it’s just… a lot of stuff happening all at once. Family, expectations, trying to figure out what I want.” She paused, as if searching for the right words. “I guess I had to face some things I’ve been avoiding.”

Benny nodded, feeling a pang of empathy. “That sounds tough.”

“It was,” Y/N admitted, her voice tinged with a vulnerability that Benny hadn’t heard before. “But I’m glad I did. It’s weird, but even though it was hard, I feel like I’m finally starting to figure things out. Like I’m not just going along with what everyone else wants.”

“That’s good,” Benny said, genuinely relieved to hear it. “You deserve to do what makes you happy, Y/N.”

She turned to look at him, her eyes softening as she smiled. “Thank you, Benny. That means a lot to me.”

He felt his chest tighten at the way she said his name, so gentle and full of warmth. He took a slow drag from the shared cigarette, using the moment to steady himself. “And, uh, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here. I mean, I’m not great with advice or anything, but… I’m a good listener.”

Y/N’s smile widened, a light laugh escaping her. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, her tone teasing but kind. “And you know, you’re not as bad as you think. Talking to you… it’s nice. It’s easy.”

Benny felt a warmth spread through him at her words, a sense of connection that was almost intoxicating. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had made him feel this way—like he mattered, like he wasn’t just another face in the crowd.

For a while, they stood there in silence, side by side, smoking and watching the sun dip lower in the sky. Benny found himself stealing glances at her, the way the fading light played off her features, the way her hair framed her face.

Finally, Y/N broke the silence. “I’m glad you came back to the bridge tonight, Benny,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his once again. “I missed seeing you around.”

Benny’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed to hear those words. “I missed you too,” he replied, his voice quiet but sincere.

In that moment, he felt like maybe, just maybe, things were starting to fall into place. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but for now, he was content just being there with her, sharing a cigarette and a quiet conversation on the bridge. It was enough.

As they finished the cigarette, Y/N took one last drag and then extinguished the butt against the stone of the bridge, her eyes drifting over to Benny’s motorcycle parked nearby. She seemed to study it for a moment, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Your bike is beautiful,” she said softly, the admiration in her voice unmistakable.

Benny followed her gaze to his motorcycle, his pride and joy. He had spent countless hours maintaining it, making sure it was always in perfect condition. But hearing her compliment it—it meant something different, something more. Her words stirred something in him, giving him the push he needed to finally take a step forward.

He swallowed, feeling his nerves dance in his stomach, but he knew he had to say it. Now or never, he told himself.

“You wanna go for a ride?” he asked, his voice coming out steadier than he felt inside.

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, taken aback by the offer. For a moment, she looked uncertain, almost as if she were weighing the idea in her mind. “I don’t know, Benny,” she began, her tone hesitant. “I haven’t ever sat on one. What if I fall down?”

She let out a light, nervous laugh, and Benny felt his heart swell at the sound. It was such a rare, beautiful thing to hear her laugh like that, and he couldn’t help but savor it, wanting to bottle it up and keep it with him forever.

Y/N continued, her laughter turning a bit more playful, “You’ll be imprisoned for murder charges if I fall.”

Benny grinned, her words easing the tension that had been building up inside him. She had a way of doing that—making him feel like everything was okay, like they were just two people enjoying each other’s company, with no expectations or pretenses. It was something he cherished, something he didn’t want to lose.

Taking a deep breath, Benny stepped closer to her, his heart pounding in his chest. They were inches apart now, and he could see the slight surprise in her eyes as she looked up at him. But there was no fear, no apprehension—only that same warmth, that same trust that had been slowly growing between them.

“I won’t let you fall down,” he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet, unwavering certainty.

The words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away—the world, the bridge, the evening sky. All that mattered was her, standing there with him, so close that he could feel the warmth radiating from her.

Y/N’s gaze searched his, as if she was trying to see into his soul, trying to understand the depth of what he was saying. She didn’t move, didn’t pull away, and that gave Benny the courage to continue.

“I promise,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Her breath hitched slightly, and Benny could see the conflict in her eyes—the fear of the unknown, the hesitation of stepping out of her comfort zone. But there was something else too, something that mirrored the feelings he had been wrestling with for weeks now: a longing for connection, for something real and true.

Y/N’s lips parted as if she was about to say something, but instead, she just nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement that spoke volumes. Benny’s heart soared at her silent agreement, and he felt a rush of warmth and protectiveness wash over him.

For so long, he had been watching her from afar, admiring her beauty, her quiet strength. But now, she was here, so close that he could see the delicate strands of hair framing her face, could feel the gentle rise and fall of her breath.

In that moment, Benny realized that this was more than just a crush, more than just infatuation. He cared about her—deeply. And he wanted to show her that she could trust him, that he would be there for her, no matter what.

“Okay,” Y/N finally whispered, her voice shaky but resolute. “Let’s do it.”

Benny smiled, a wave of relief and joy washing over him. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his, and led her toward the bike. Every step felt like a victory, every second a confirmation that this—whatever it was between them—was real.

As they reached the bike, Benny handed her a helmet, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a shiver down his spine, a reminder of how much he had wanted this, how much he had longed for this connection.

“Trust me,” he said again, his voice soft but firm, as he watched her slip the helmet on.

She looked at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and nerves, and Benny knew that this was a moment he would remember for the rest of his life. As she climbed onto the bike behind him, her arms hesitantly wrapping around his waist, he felt an overwhelming sense of purpose—a determination to protect her, to make sure she was safe.

With a deep breath, Benny started the engine, the familiar roar filling the air. As they took off down the road, the wind rushing past them, he could feel her grip tighten around him, and it made him smile.

He had promised her that he wouldn’t let her fall, and he meant it—with every beat of his heart

As they drove through the winding roads, Y/N's arms wrapped tightly around Benny's waist, her grip firm yet tender. Benny couldn't help but revel in the sensation of her closeness—the way her body pressed against his, the warmth of her embrace seeping through the leather of his jacket. Each twist and turn of the road only brought them closer, her hold tightening with every slight movement of the bike.

But it was more than just the physical closeness that made Benny's heart race. It was the way her warm breath grazed his neck with every exhale, sending a shiver down his spine. He could feel the gentle rhythm of her breathing, almost in sync with the hum of the engine beneath them. The sensation was intoxicating, a sweet torture that made him wish the ride would never end.

Every now and then, Benny would catch a faint whiff of her scent—something soft and delicate, like fresh flowers or a hint of vanilla. It mingled with the crisp evening air, creating a heady mix that made it hard for him to focus on anything other than her. He had driven this route countless times before, but tonight, it felt entirely different, like he was experiencing it all for the first time with her by his side.

Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and an instant, Benny slowed the bike to a stop. They had reached their destination—a secluded spot on the outskirts of town, hidden away from the hustle and bustle of the world. As the bike came to a halt, Benny gently patted Y/N’s hands, signaling that it was time to dismount. She loosened her grip around his waist, and he reluctantly let go of the warmth and comfort of her touch.

Benny swung his leg over the bike and turned to face her, offering his hand to help her down. Y/N accepted it, her fingers intertwining with his as she carefully stepped off the bike. Her eyes were wide with a mix of wonder and exhilaration, her cheeks slightly flushed from the ride. Benny couldn’t help but smile at the sight—she looked radiant, almost glowing in the dim light of the setting sun.

“This way,” he said softly, still holding her hand as he led her toward the edge of the clearing.

The place he had brought her to was a hidden gem, a spot he had discovered long ago but had never shared with anyone—until now. It was a small, grassy hill overlooking a vast expanse of countryside, where rolling fields stretched out as far as the eye could see. The landscape was bathed in the warm, golden hues of the setting sun, casting long shadows that danced across the ground.

In the distance, a river wound its way through the fields, its surface shimmering like liquid gold under the fading light. The gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze and the soft chirping of crickets created a serene, almost magical atmosphere. It was a place of peace and beauty, a perfect escape from the world—a place where time seemed to stand still.

Y/N’s eyes widened in awe as she took in the scene before her, her breath catching in her throat. “It’s… beautiful,” she whispered, her voice filled with wonder.

Benny nodded, his heart swelling with pride and something deeper, something more profound. He had wanted to share this with her, to show her this place that had always brought him solace. But seeing her reaction—seeing how much she appreciated it—made it all the more special.

He watched as Y/N slowly walked to the edge of the hill, her gaze sweeping across the horizon. She stood there for a moment, soaking it all in, before turning back to him with a soft smile. “Thank you for bringing me here, Benny,” she said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

Benny shrugged, trying to play it cool even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “I’m glad you like it,” he replied, his voice betraying the warmth he felt inside.

She took a step closer to him, her eyes locking onto his. For a moment, they stood there in silence, the world around them fading away until it was just the two of them, bathed in the soft glow of the twilight. Benny could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken connection between them growing stronger with each passing second.

He wanted to say something, to tell her how much this moment meant to him, how much she meant to him. But as he looked into her eyes, he realized that he didn’t need to say anything at all. It was all there, in the way she looked at him, in the way she smiled, in the way she had held onto him so tightly during the ride.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the landscape in shades of pink and purple, Benny knew that this was a moment he would never forget. And as he stood there with Y/N by his side, he couldn’t help but feel that, for the first time in a long time, everything was exactly as it should be.

As the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky painted in deep purples and soft pinks, Benny felt a surge of urgency in his chest. The serenity of the scene around them, the quiet beauty of the countryside, and the warmth of Y/N's presence all combined to create a perfect moment—one he knew he couldn't let slip away.

His heart pounded against his ribcage, a drumbeat that echoed in his ears as he watched Y/N standing there, gazing out over the landscape. She looked so peaceful, so content, and yet Benny could see the lingering traces of something else—something that mirrored the loneliness he had felt for so long. This was it, the moment he had been waiting for, the moment he knew he had to seize before it was too late.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself as he took a step closer to her. His nerves jangled, but he pushed them aside, focusing instead on the truth that had been growing inside him for weeks now. He had to tell her. He had to let her know how he felt, even if it meant risking everything.

"Y/N," he began, his voice quiet but firm, "there's something I need to tell you."

She turned to face him, her expression curious, her eyes soft and open. Benny could see the concern in her gaze, the way she searched his face as if trying to understand what was going on inside his head. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry, but he knew there was no turning back now.

"I’ve been coming to this bridge every day, watching you, admiring you from afar," he continued, his voice growing more confident as he spoke. "At first, I didn’t know why. I thought maybe I was just drawn to the peace of it all, to the way you seemed so content here. But the more I watched you, the more I realized it wasn’t the bridge that kept bringing me back. It was you."

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, but she remained silent, letting him continue.

"I don’t know how to explain it," Benny said, running a hand through his hair, "but you’ve become something I can’t get out of my head. Every day, I find myself thinking about you, wondering what you’re doing, how you’re feeling. And when I saw you with Michael, I... I realized how much it hurt to think that you might not feel the same way about me."

He paused, taking another deep breath as he searched for the right words. "Y/N, I don’t know if this makes any sense, but I think... I think I’m falling for you. I don’t know how or when it happened, but it did. And I just had to tell you, because I can’t keep it to myself any longer."

There it was, out in the open, hanging in the air between them like a fragile thread. Benny held his breath, waiting for her reaction, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of his chest.

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Benny felt a flicker of panic, wondering if he had made a mistake, if he had just ruined everything. But then, slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and her eyes softened with something that looked almost like relief.

"Benny," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I had no idea you felt that way."

His heart skipped a beat at her words, but he forced himself to stay calm, to let her finish.

"I’ve been coming to that bridge because it’s the one place where I can think, where I can be alone with my thoughts," she continued, her gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting his eyes again. "But lately, I’ve noticed you too. I’ve seen you watching me, and I couldn’t help but wonder why."

She took a step closer to him, her hand reaching out to gently touch his arm. "And now that you’ve told me how you feel... I think I need to tell you something too."

Benny felt his breath catch in his throat as he waited, his entire world narrowing down to this one moment.

"I’ve been feeling lost," Y/N admitted, her voice tinged with sadness. "This whole arranged marriage thing with Michael... it’s been weighing on me, making me feel like I have no control over my own life. But when I’m at the bridge, and when I see you... it’s like everything else fades away. You make me feel seen, Benny, in a way I haven’t felt in a long time."

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with something that made Benny’s heart swell with hope. "I don’t know what this is between us," she said softly, "but I think I’d like to find out."

Benny felt a wave of relief wash over him, followed by a surge of joy so powerful it nearly took his breath away. He reached out, taking her hand in his, and squeezed it gently.

"I won’t let you fall, Y/N," he said, echoing his earlier promise, but this time with a deeper meaning behind the words. "Not now, not ever."

And as they stood there, hand in hand, with the last light of the day fading into night, Benny knew that this was only the beginning of something beautiful—something worth fighting for, something worth cherishing.

As Benny stood there with Y/N, the world around them seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of them and the soft, twilight air that surrounded them. The intensity of the moment made time feel like it was stretching out, each second laden with emotion.

Y/N’s gaze was fixed on Benny’s, her eyes reflecting the soft glow of the fading light. The unspoken connection between them grew stronger with each passing moment, an invisible thread pulling them closer. Benny could see the slight tremor in her lips, the way her breath quickened as she leaned in ever so slightly. It was as if they were both caught in a magnetic pull, irresistibly drawn to each other.

Without breaking eye contact, Y/N’s hand gently cupped Benny’s face, her touch warm and soft. Her fingers traced the contours of his cheek with a tenderness that made his heart race. Benny’s own hands, trembling with anticipation, moved to rest on her waist, pulling her closer.

And then, as if by unspoken agreement, their lips met. The kiss was gentle at first, a hesitant brush of warmth and affection. But as their lips lingered, the initial shyness gave way to a deeper, more passionate connection. Benny felt an explosion of sensations—a heady mix of sweetness and urgency, a melding of breaths and heartbeats that seemed to synchronize perfectly.

Y/N’s lips were soft and pliant against his, her taste a delicate blend of the cigarette they had shared and something uniquely her. Benny lost himself in the sensation, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. The kiss deepened, their lips moving together with a newfound intensity that conveyed everything they had yet to say.

Benny’s heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the realization that he was completely, utterly lost in this moment. He was a goner now, overwhelmed by the rush of feelings that surged through him. His hands tightened around Y/N’s waist, pulling her closer, as if trying to merge their bodies into one.

The world seemed to dissolve around them, leaving only the pure, unfiltered connection between their lips. Benny could feel the warmth of her breath, the gentle flutter of her eyelashes against his cheek, and the unmistakable spark of something profound and undeniable. Every touch, every movement was a confirmation of what he had felt all along—a deep, consuming affection that had finally found its expression.

As they slowly pulled away, their foreheads resting together, Benny looked into Y/N’s eyes with a mixture of wonder and longing. The kiss had changed everything, had crystallized what he had known deep down but had struggled to express. In that moment, Benny knew that whatever lay ahead, he was completely and irrevocably committed to Y/N. He was a goner now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Y/N looked up at Benny, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. Her voice was soft, almost shy, as she asked, "Am I your girlfriend now, Benny?"

Benny’s heart surged with an overwhelming mix of relief and joy. Without missing a beat, he looked deeply into her eyes, his expression filled with both affection and determination. "Fuck yes!" he declared, his voice raw with emotion.

In that instant, he pulled her into another kiss, this one more urgent, filled with the intensity of everything he had wanted to say and feel. Their lips met with a fervor that spoke volumes, as if this kiss was a declaration, a confirmation of everything they had just shared. The world seemed to disappear around them once again, leaving only the passionate embrace and the certainty of their newfound commitment.

As they finally parted, Benny’s face was lit up with a wide, genuine smile. The joy and relief in his eyes were unmistakable, and he couldn’t help but pull Y/N closer, his arms wrapping around her with a possessive, yet tender, affection.

With Y/N now officially his girlfriend, Benny felt as though he was floating on a cloud of elation. The weight of uncertainty and longing had lifted, replaced by a profound sense of contentment and excitement about the future. The world seemed to shine a little brighter, the colors more vivid, as if everything was aligning perfectly in his favor.

Benny’s mind raced with dreams and possibilities. For the first time, he could envision a future beyond the constraints of his solitary existence. The thought of having Y/N by his side, of building a life together, filled him with a sense of hope and purpose he hadn’t felt before. He could imagine waking up next to her, sharing quiet mornings and adventures, and eventually, maybe even starting a family. The idea of creating something lasting and meaningful, of having a family to call his own, seemed within reach.

As he looked at Y/N, he felt a surge of gratitude and excitement. She was his anchor, his "old lady," and with her, he saw endless possibilities. The future no longer felt like a series of uncertain steps; it felt like a journey they would embark on together, hand in hand.

Benny's thoughts drifted to the simple joys he wanted to share with her—the laughter, the shared dreams, the comforting routine of everyday life. The thought of building a home and a family with Y/N brought a warmth to his heart that he hadn’t known was possible. In his mind, he pictured a future filled with love and stability, a stark contrast to the tumultuous past he had known.

With Y/N now firmly in his life, Benny’s world was brimming with potential. He was eager to embrace this new chapter, to cherish every moment with her, and to make the dreams he once thought unattainable a reality.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Independent clever Hero who doesn’t trust the brooding villains true feelings for them, and keeps second guessing everything villain does!!

“Enchantée,” the hero purred. Their eyes were drawn to the supervillain, concentrated and observing quietly. Every micro-expression, every little change — nothing escaped the hero. They were highly focused on their target and they didn’t plan on failing this mission. “It’s a pleasure to have met you.”

The supervillain gave them a once over and hummed satisfactorily. All night long, they’d been in a good mood and the hero had used that to get close to them. Rare opportunities like this demanded to be taken advantage of. The hero was ready to sacrifice whatever this mission needed them to.

Everything had gone smoothly but — unfortunately — it would’ve been much easier if it wasn’t for the villain.

The villain who was currently squeezing their wineglass hard enough to make it crack and burst. The villain who kept glaring at them. The villain who had helped them get an invitation (in exchange for a ridiculous amount of money) and introduced them to the supervillain.

“We will meet again, I hope,” the supervillain said.

“I could pay you a visit once the gala is over,” the hero said. “If you’ll have me.”

Their eyes found the supervillain’s lips and they were this close to making a move. This close to gaining a drop of their trust and getting a second meeting.

“Lovely idea. I don’t think your date over there—” they nodded towards the villain who had murder in their eyes “—would appreciate that, though. But, yeah. Enchantée.” They smiled politely, did something close to a bow and disappeared in the crowd filled with boring people.

The hero turned around immediately, burning from the inside as they approached their “date.”

“What are you doing?” they hissed. They took away the cracked glass and placed it on the bar behind the villain. They didn’t have time for this nonsense, god, they had almost nothing.

Unfortunately, the supervillain was someone who would come to social gatherings once in a blue moon. How the hell were you supposed to build a relationship with someone who lived like a fucking hermit crab? How the hell were you supposed to get all the information on them when they revealed absolutely nothing?

The hero sighed and the villain just stared.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

The villain blinked, looking confused, then angry again. The hero knew they didn’t talk much but god, if they were acting suspicious enough for the supervillain to notice…it sabotaged the whole operation, it ruined everything.

“What were you doing anyway? Destroying wineglasses?”

“The other one was a champagne glass,” the villain said.

“Christ, you’ve got some nerves.” The hero stared at the crowd, trying to spot the supervillain but it was useless — they were probably in their hotel already, or even worse, scheming in their home.

Eventually, the hero eyes fell on the glass again. The cracks looked like spiderwebs, drawing across the glass. And then, they realised there was blood on the glass.

The hero looked at their nemesis’ hands and indeed, they were bleeding.

“Hell, why did you…” The hero didn’t finish the sentence nor the thought. Instead, they took the villain’s hand into theirs and observed once again. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that much that the supervillain had gotten away.

So what? They’d have to improvise, as always. The hero’s intuition was brilliant, something they’d trained to perfection. Next time, if there was a next time, they would get them and they would finish this.

“What made you so angry?” They hadn’t found any shards, so they stole a napkin from the bar and dabbed on the villain’s skin, soaking up the blood carefully.

“…don’t you know?”

No. No, the hero didn’t know. The hero did not know. And maybe, the hero didn’t want to know. Maybe they shouldn’t have asked, maybe they shouldn’t have done this.

Because this couldn’t be the reason, right? This couldn’t be the explanation.

“No,” the hero lied.

“Oh.” The muscles in the villain’s fingers spasmed whenever the hero came close to the cuts but the hero held them gently and was careful. “It was just an accident.”

Somehow, hearing that was more devastating than watching the supervillain leave.

[archie-sunshine]

ARCHIE-SUNSHINE'S FAQ!

Hi!! I'm putting this together as a quick helpful post to clear stuff up regarding my inbox, because I've been getting a lot of similar questions and I want to be able to tap a sign to let people know what they gotta know without putting in so much effort!

So, here's my FAQ for my inbox!

1: What drawing software/hardware do you use? Are you a traditional only artist? What Brushes do you use?

I use clip studio paint and an ancient wacom tablet that's been chugging since 2018 :]

For my brushes, here are all of the ids!

I very rarely do traditional art, and for them, i use a moleskine sketchbook and micron plastic nib pens!

2: Is your Inbox getting my message?

Yes it is! I just usually have around 100 other asks in my inbox that im also working through!! If your ask was super nonspecific as well, I might have deleted it because I didn't know where to start! Sometimes i just delete stuff because its sat around too long and i feel awkward answering it! i am a very busy person.

3. Are you taking commissions?

I open 2-4 slots for commissions every stream! I also open non stream commissions every now and then around the middle of the month typically!

4. What are your thoughts on [Insert TFP character here]/why don't you like tfp

I don't have any because I only watched half a season of that show and got bored to death! and i dislike the show because the pacing is weird, the writing is sub par, the characters bore me to death save for a few notable exceptions, the music is boring, the designs are weird and complicated, and every attempt at comedy falls flat. aka, its just not my cup of tea!

Additionally, over the year I've been posting on this blog, I have been asked at least once every single month for an answer to this question, and it hasn't changed and people still don't read my faq. and suspiciously after three of those times, my blog has been mysteriously pixelated.

... I'm not saying anyone reported me. But im not not saying that.

So thats another reason i don't like tfp.

5. Will you draw/What are your thoughts on MPREG/MECHPREG

I don't like pregnancy when it involves a fetus, though I do enjoy dirty talk and scenarios surrounding breeding! I do enjoy oviposition/egg laying, but I prefer it as part of a monster fucking scenario.

6. What would you think [insert character/pairing here]'s kids would look like/what would [insert character] look like as a kid/do you think [insert couple here] would be great parents?

I don't like talking about kids or children!! and I don't like talking about couples as parents in general!

7. Can i make fanworks of your ocs/AU/fics/art?

YES!! YESYESYES ABSOLUTELY PRETTY PLEASE YES ALWAYS AND FOREVER! All i ask is that you tag me or send me the link to wherever youve posted this, feel free to gift me stuff on ao3 if you like as well, genuinely nothing brings me more joy than inspiring other people so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE feel free!!

8. What are your limits for commissions?

I drew up a helpful little chart for it! anything not on here, you can dm or ask me about!

[ppenguinpperson]

Without thinking, Siffrin says, “I’ll kill you.” The words leave his mouth before he even understands them. When he does, his eye goes wide, horror dawning upon him. Why did he say that? He doesn’t want to kill Loop?? Why would he want to do that?? What's wrong with him??? “I perfectly parry your blow and survive,” Loop shrugs.

Siffrin isn’t sure what loop they’re in right now. 90, maybe? That number feels terribly wrong, though. Both too small and too big at the same time.

They’ve spent an eternity in this town. They know the House like the back of their hand, having walked down each hall a thousand times. Every crack in the wall, every useless trinket, every torch; all of it is engraved within their mind, sure to never be forgotten. So, it can’t only have been 90. They know too much to have spent that little time here.

A bitter smile creeps up on their face. Despite it being ‘only’ their 90th time looping, it’s still not over. ‘Only’, because they know it’s far from the last time that they’ll wake up in this meadow.

This will go on and on until he forgets what the counter inside his mind is for. He already forgot his family’s names once, who’s to say he won’t forget again? That he won’t forget who he is?

Or worse - what if he forgets who Loop is? Will he forget that he has someone to remind him of these things?

… No. Siffrin’s memory is fickle, but he’d like to think that he knows himself well enough to say he won’t forget Loop. He can’t say it confidently, but still.

Siffrin perks up at the thought of Loop. It has been some time since he last talked to them in person. He doesn’t even call them that much anymore… Ah, well, they’ll understand. They’ll probably just say something like “You’re back?? I was starting to think you were serious when you threatened me with bonding-divorce!!! Thank you for giving me a second chance, I promise I’ll go to bonding-counseling with you once you escape these loops.”

On autopilot, they get up. The meadow looks the same as always. Their talks with Mirabelle and Isabeau are a blur, same as the walk to the wishing tree is. This part of the script is the easiest, they’ve long since stopped trying to look for any changes. It’s always the same.

Just as everything is always the same, there’s one thing that never is. Loop might not have noticed yet, but Siffrin has; they’re not the same Loop that they met at the start. Every now and then, they catch him by surprise and say something that he’d never thought they were capable of saying back when they first met.

It could be that they’re just showing him their ‘true self’. He hasn’t even known them that long. Maybe they’re getting comfortable around him, taking off their mask bit by bit… but that doesn’t sound like Loop at all. He’s known them long enough to semi-confidently say that they’re changing. Just like he is.

Wordlessly, the traveler sits down across from Loop before Isabeau even left the scene. Their hands are in their lap, legs crossed, leaning against the tree. Their pose rarely changes, but enough so for him to notice.

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t my precious Stardust!” Loop speaks, clasping their hands together. Their voice turns to an imitation of hurt. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

Siffrin hides under his hat. “I was busy.”

“You know I’m here to help you with that, right? ‘Helpful Loop, always here to help with the loops!’ Or have you forgotten?”

He bites the inside of his cheek. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to stop himself from answering a question that there’s no right answer to. He feels like a dog getting scolded.

A beat of silence. “I can’t always do all the talking, you know. You should try it sometime. You should get yourself your own Stardust – someone that never contributes to the conversation, so you have complete control over it! It’s really something. Gets boring sometimes, but you’d at least get to practice your conversational skills. Stars know you’re lacking.”

Without thinking, Siffrin speaks.

“I’ll kill you.”

The words leave his mouth before he even understands them. When he does, his eye goes wide, horror dawning upon him. Why did he say that? He doesn’t want to kill Loop?? Why would he want to do that?? Why is he saying something he doesn’t think??? Sure, they were annoying him, on purpose to add, but?? He doesn’t want them dead???

He opens his mouth to speak again, but nothing comes out. His mind rushes to find something to say to fix this situation.

“Just a joke, haha, laugh now please” “...r haters” “Did you hear something? Huh, must have been the wind”

But nothing comes to mind!!! Crab!!! No, no, no!!! Loop is his only real companion these days!! They’ve been by his side for all of the 90 loops he’s been through!! Not ‘only’, but!! 90!!! They’ve been with him, and he just possibly ruined their relationship with this stupid, stupid joke, that he doesn’t even know why he said in the first place!!!

“Who said that” “Anyway did you see me catch that fish, pretty cool right” “I’m like super hungry right now do you wanna eat Bonnie's snacks together”

No… he can’t salvage this. This is beyond repair. He visits Loop for the first time in however many loops, and he says THAT??? Of all things?? They’ll never want to see him again if he doesn’t say something right now, but he can’t!!! He’ll be all alone now. No guide, no confidant!! All alone!!! Because he spoke without thinking!!!

He shuts his mouth. He feels a tug on his-

“I perfectly parry your blow and survive.”

… What?

“What??”

“You fight with a dagger. I parry your blow, and I survive.” Loop shrugs, “You didn’t even scratch me.”

Siffrin stares at them, dumbfounded. They… parried it?? That’s impossible. He’s defeated so many sadnesses, big and small, and- the King!!! He’s defeated the King!! If he can’t parry them, surely Loop can’t either. He’d take them down in one blow!! He wouldn’t give them the chance to parry, if they were ever to fight!!

Wait, no- why are they parrying?? He just threatened to kill them and they’re roleplaying?? What???

His face has twisted into something grotesque. He feels the corners of his mouth move, his eyebrows furrow, his eyes crease, but he cannot will any of this to stop. The thread he’s hanging on by is thinning by the second. If Loop were to put a mirror in front of him right now, he’s sure that it would snap.

Because he doesn’t know what to say, he says, “Okay.”

Loop puts a hand in front of where their mouth would/should be, their eyes creased. “Aww, did you really think you could sneak a hit in like that? Sorry, Stardust! You’ll have to try harder than that if you wish to so much as scratch me.”

They put their hands back in their lap. “Now, how can I help you on this wonderful new loop?”

[yellowocaballero]

In Stars and Time AU: Sif Puts The Star In Starcraft

Wow the ISAT fandom has a lot of cool AUs. That's a lot of fun! What if my extremely good buddy @lazuliquetzal theorized while playing ISAT for the first time that Sif was a fallen star? What then? What if I have unsuccessfully tried to restrain myself from talking about it?

Anyway AU where Sif is a star and also a gamer.

Sif is a hip Gen Z star who doesn't go outside nearly enough and spends all of their time playing videogames watching Earth. Their sibling Loop is always telling them to stop touching grass and to get their head back in the clouds, but they can't help it - they might miss the newest adventures of their favorite humans! Look at them, they're questing! Aren't they so cool? Isabeau just got a rare item drop!

Mirabelle and Isabeau are cool. They're brave, strong, nice, and best friends. Sif loves watching their heroic quest and cool adventures. After a while they even feel like his real friends. Eventually they start making a wish on themself - if they could only join them on their adventure! Get out of my room Loop I don't know what a parasocial relationship is.

Mirabelle is scared. Mirabelle is worrying that she's leading Isabeau on a doomed journey, that their struggle is destined to end in their deaths. She doesn't know if she can do this at all. Why her? Why not somebody more competent, more worthy? In a moment of desperation, she clasps her hands together and makes a desperate wish upon a star from the very bottom of her heart - that her party will be protected. That the Change God will send somebody to help them and keep them safe and save the world. Somebody, anybody, a little more competent than her.

Sif logs on.

Sif is a stroke of luck. Sif is mysterious, cool, and very talented. Sif can protect the whole party with a smirk on their face and a quip on their tongue. They're cool. He cheers you up, he's reliable, they're strong, and they are a treasured member of the party. They're a treasured friend. Things might be hard and scary, but with Sif there everybody breathes a little easier.

Sif loves, loves, loves being a human! The world is so fun and exciting, nothing like the boring and dreary cosmos! They have croissants, trees, friends! Being a human is great. They have an entire life on Earth, one way nicer than in the boring old sky that never changes. Sorry, Loop, they're skipping dinner, they have a World of Warcraft guild raid adventure with Mira today!

Sif has a job to do. Sif's here to grant a wish, and Sif is going to earn his place here. They protect the spirits of their friends by joking and keeping everybody hopeful. No friends get injured on their watch! Even if Sif gets hurt, that's part of the job. Bonnie's just upset about the eye because they don't know it's Sif's job as their friend to protect them. There's no point in feeding them during snacktime, so they'll patrol while you guys relax. Sif can't tell them how lonely they are or how they don't want this adventure to end, that's burdening them. They can't know that Sif's not really their friend, that they're not human, that their only point is their job - that's not protecting them. Get out of my ROOM PLANET, Loop, I'm NOT turning off the game touching space! It's not a game to them, it's their lives. Even if it'll never be Sif's.

But this adventure is drawing to a close. Mirabelle wished upon a star, and a star fell, and the star's about to grant her wish. And the star will have to log off. Even if the star wants to a be human, even if the star wants to be together forever - the game ends. Even if this ending really freaking sucks.

Why does this have to be a JRPG? Why can't it be one of the good games, the games that you can play forever and ever - like a farming/life simulator or an MMORPG or something? Where you do the same chores every day and nothing ever changes, and you're happy and safe in this little town forever? Everybody seperating at the end isn't a happy ending. Sif hates this ending. Sif hates this genre. Sif can't log off. They can't protect their friends if they log off. It's their job to protect their friends. They have to play the game right and create an ending that makes sure everybody is safe and happy and everything's perfect.

The party - Sif's family - reaches the third floor. Sif cracks open his Star AO3 account. Mirabelle unlocks the door and swings it open to find…

What's a coffee shop doing here?