#god I love this chapter so much. literally I can start reading ANY part of it and get hooked. Me every time I re-read the one time in my

[godmadeaterribleerror]

More Than You Could Ever Know - Part 1

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: On god they're about to be so cute. This was going to be one chapter but they can't stop fucking and I can't stop writing. Enjoy!

Title from All I Want For Christmas is You by Mariah Carey

Word Count: 8.5k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: A No Love Lost Christmas Special! Takes place about five months after the end of No Love Lost, sort of an epilogue to the main story.

The Boys start Secret Santa, Ben pretends to do his job. Usual Warnings, plus smut. Much fluff and smut.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth rotting fluff, smut (fingering, oral f receiving, p in v sex), established relationship, Christmas Special

Part 2

Read on A03!

Doing this in Butcher’s apartment was a terrible idea, because the asshole only cleans when it’s his weekend with Ryan, and you’re right on the wrong end of that. Doing it immediately after work was a worse one, because you’re in heels and a too tight bra that you’re not allow to rip off, throw in Ben’s face, giggling when he all but tackles you into bed.

Doing it without Ben here to smile and pout and snark at might be the worst idea you’ve ever had.

And you’ve had a lot of remarkably fucking terrible ideas.

You’re not really paying attention to your friends around you, because you’re staring at your phone. Turning it around between your hands, waiting for Ben’s text to let you know Ryan’s home from school. That he’s not being bullied, and he’s doing his homework, and his powers didn’t cause what the principal had referred to as structural damage to the school’s foundation, and what Ben had correctly said was just a fucking accident. It’s not Ryan’s fault you pussies put the baseball field right next to the goddamn building.

There haven’t been any incidents since then—Ben had taken Ryan to a large, empty field and helped him figure out how to not turn a ball into a genuine weapon—but it’s still a delicate situation. It took a lot to get Ryan into a public school. A lot of promises of Ryan won’t hurt anyone, you fucking pussies, he’s not a damn baby, and bargains of Ben and I will donate, and go to all the fundraisers, but you’re not allowed to explicitly advertise that Ryan’s here, and many, many thinly veiled threats of if you don’t treat our son like a proper fucking human, I’ll let my wife yell at you. And she’ll rip you to fucking pieces.

You wouldn’t have ripped anyone to pieces. Literal pieces. Emotional pieces had been on the table, as had reputational pieces. It was one of the very few advantages of being so highly and strangely regarded as the woman who killed Homelander and the founder of the Soldier Boy Relief Foundation. People respected you and your opinion, which was an interesting choice on their part, but served you well. Ryan had gotten into the school, and he seemed to be liking it, so you hadn’t even been that mad at Ben for threatening the superintendent.

But you also don’t really get mad at Ben. Not ever. You whack his arms and wrinkle your nose and elbow his gut, but he always feels that you don’t mean it, and you never fight him when he tugs you into his arms and kisses you breathless and dizzy. When he mutters promises about fucking you stupid later, and calls you a brat, and chuckles when you grind onto his thigh in the middle of the office, and you miss him so much-

It’s barely been six fucking hours, Sunshine.

You scowl into the air, even as your whole body sings from the feeling of Ben, strong and deep and flaring in your chest. Shut up, you’re supposed to be picking up Ryan-

Already got him. We’re home.

You were supposed to text me, Benjamin-

Why, I’m telling you right fucking now-

Because Singer’s still on our ass. You sigh, tapping your fingers on the back of your phone. And the Ben’o’phone isn’t admissible in a court of law to prove we’re well-suited parents.

Singer can shove it up his fucking dick-

Ben, please- You cut yourself off as your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with a message.

Benjamin; Stupid fucking handsome asshole husband

Ryans hoem

R u fuckingg happy sunshine

You smile, typing back Yes. Thank you, grumpy.

Shut the fuck up, Ben grumbles in your head, and all his adoration flares in your chest as you smile into the air like an idiot.

I love you, you massive fucking man-child.

I love you too, brat. Why the fuck aren’t you home yet.

You can almost picture his half-pouting scowl, feel the warmth of his body around you and smell pine drifting through the air. Meeting with everyone.

Everyone.

Yep.

Why the fuck is everyone meeting without me-

Because you’re picking up Ryan.

We could’ve made fucking Butcher do that-

Butcher doesn’t have a super awesome wife who’s going to tell him everything when she gets home, my love.

There’s a pause, and then Ben mutters between the low words of your friends talking around you, Be fucking fast.

MM says your name, looking between you and the bowl on the center of the table. “You put Ben in there?”

I always am. You nod to MM as Ben moves back to a quiet, warm hum in your chest, and tuck your phone into your pocket. “Yeah. I’ll give him his name when I get home.”

“And we’re sure Ben knows how Secret Santa works?” Hughie scratches the back of his neck with a sheepish expression, and you sigh.

“No. But I can explain it to him.”

“Old cunt ever even celebrated Christmas?” Butcher mutters, his feet kicked up on the table. “He don’t seem like the spirit of givin’ type.”

You flip Butcher off, your words short and firm. “He’s not a million Butcher, he’s celebrated Christmas before.”

Ben seems to love Christmas. Or at least grumpily acknowledge it with a soft, easy glow over his ribs and a relaxed face, which is the closest thing he gets to loving something that’s not you or Ryan. He’d told you, at the beginning of the month, that it was the only time his father didn’t drink as much. The only time his mother got to love him and not be caught between he and his father’s fights. The only time he got something as a child that he wasn’t expected to feel sorry or wasteful for receiving. 

You wish there was some sort of supe that could communicate with ghosts or raise the dead. You’d mimic their powers, bring Ben’s father back, and then kill him again.

“Alright, Love.” Butcher raises his hands up in mock surrender. “Just makin’ sure.”

“Suck my fucking dick-“

“Can we, um,” Annie gives you an apologetic look as she cuts you off. “Can we draw? Now? Everyone has work tomorrow, and I would like to go home and eat my weight in sushi.”

Hughie nods, grinning down at Annie. “And watch Love Island.”

“Love Island?” MM raises his brows, and Annie blushes.

“It’s fun-“

“Names, cunts.” Butcher leans forward, pulling his paper, and looks around at the rest of the group. “Before time get’s all our sorry fuckin arses. Except yours. Love,” Butcher winks at you. “You’re stuck ‘ere till the sun goes out.”

“Eat me, Butcher.”

“Oi, I’m not above tellin the Gov you said that-“

“Ben would kick your sorry ass if you said that, Butcher.” MM’s voice is flat as he interrupts, leaning over the table to draw his paper. “You might be a supe now, but that motherfucker would beat up a mountain if it insulted her honor.”

You snort as Butcher’s sour expression, and give MM a grateful nod. Everyone here knows you don’t really have honor—at least not in a way that matters—but they also know that Ben doesn’t really care about that. His notion of your honor is subjective. You’re, apparently, above killing and straining labor, so he does that for you, but he also threatens congressmen and rude parents of Ryan’s classmates with his wife. You don’t lie to him, but he’s flat out encouraged you to commit perjury. He’d threatened a journalist who said you spread your legs for any powerful supe, but then shoved your knees apart to bury himself inside you and fuck you until you were a slurring, whiny mess under him.

It seems to mostly be about what you think of the insult. If that mountain called you a slut and you laughed, Ben would just glower, standing tall and ridged at your side. If it said the same thing and you stopped talking—cold spreading through your body and a ringing in your ears—Ben would make the mountain regret being born.

You miss him so fucking much.

Once everyone has a name and you’re sure no one’s pulled their own name, you leave Butcher’s apartment with grins and half-goodbyes. You, Annie, MM, and Hughie will all see each other tomorrow, and Frenchie, Kimiko, and Butcher will do the same.

It’s a short drive home from Butcher’s apartment, but that’s by design. For Ryan. Butcher lives in the city, and you and Ben are in the outskirt suburbs. You’d say Ben’s benefitting more from this arrangement—Butcher lives right above their office, while you have to drive to downtown for yours—but you’re the one who fought for this. The one who convinced Ben that Philadelphia would be a good place to live, because there was enough to not get bored, not enough that you’d never have peace, and it was halfway between New York and Washington. Most of the supe cleanup contracts that Ben, Butcher, Frenchie, and Kimiko got contracted for ended up being in New York—you’ve called Ben a murder maid several times, and he always rolls his eyes, kisses the top of your head, and mutters we don’t fucking murder people, we just get them in line when they’re being damn idiots—while a lot of your work is in DC, dealing with the more technical side of the post-Vought mess.

Ben hadn’t wanted you to call it the Soldier Boy Relief Foundation. He’d scowled at you as you’d told him and MM the idea, and their glares had been almost identical.

“There’s no fucking way you’re calling it that.” Ben had snapped, and MM had shot him a look of surprise.

“I mean, not that I don’t agree,” MM had said, scanning over Ben with a frown. “But why the hell do you think that.”

“Because Soldier Boy’s fucking dead. You,” he’d bumped his shoulder with yours, rough affection spreading over his ribs, even as he continued to glower. “Fucking killed him, Sunshine. Don’t use that name.”

You’d wrinkled your nose at him. “First of all, that’s very romantic, Pretty Boy. I’ve always wanted to metaphorically murder my husband.”

Brat-

“But,” you’d continued, kicking Ben’s shin as he’d started to smirk. “I have reasons to name it that.”

MM had scoffed. “There is not a chance you’ve got reasons to justify using that name-“

“It will draw attention.” You’d raised your fingers as you listed the reasons, using a bored, plain tone. “The whole point of this is to get as many victims of Vought and Homelander as much help as possible. Labelling it with Soldier Boy’s name will put it on people’s radar-“

“So would calling it the Starlight or Anomaly relief Foundation-“

You’d shaken your head, giving MM a flat look. “Annie’s supe name is already tainted in the public eye. Mine is controversial. If people hear the Anomaly Relief Foundation, they’ll form an automatic opinion based on the trials and news stories they’ve read. Soldier Boy will get people to actually look at what we’re doing. Older victims will be more likely to come out of the woodwork, supes that admired Ben growing up will be more willing to see what we’re offering them, and congress is full of old white assholes who will love it.”

MM had frowned, but nodded for you to continue, and you’d raised a second finger.

“Vought’s copyright on Soldier Boy expired last year, but Starlight and the Anomaly won’t be available for public use for another forty. Even if Vought goes down, they could drag us with them on petty litigations and technicalities, and we don’t need that right now. Finally,” you’d raised a third finger. “I think it’s poetic, and funny, and rubbing how we won in Homelander stupid dead face.”

You’d won that argument. And the argument about where to live. And the argument about letting Butcher have alternate weekends with Ryan.

That last one had been the easiest to win. For the name debate you’d had to convince Ben and MM, and for the city debate you’d had to convince the whole team of stubborn assholes you called your friends, but for the last one you’d only had to convince Ben. And you always convince Ben. He puts up a grumbled argument, and you tear down his points with teasing, loving words, and he gives in with a grunt. But you always see his small grin, and feel all his love and care and affection bursting from that piece of him near your heart, and he devours your face and neck and cunt until your knees get weak and you almost fall over.

You might love him more than life.

He’s waiting for you when you get home. You barely open the door before he’s on you, sweeping you into a long, deep kiss and groaning down your throat.

Hi, Benjamin. You mumble between your heads, and his chuckle rolls through your whole body.

“Hi, Sunshine.” He grins at you as he pulls away, hauling you up his chest as you gape at him a little stupidly. It’s not fair how he somehow keeps getting more handsome, how a domestic, peaceful life looks so good on him it might drive you insane. How his shirt under your hands is clean and soft and easy to tug on, to pull him back onto your mouth. How, when you finally get your shoes off, they’re on a mat right next to his, and that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy. How his beard is so well-trimmed because there’s nothing to rush for, and the whole house smells like pine because of Ben’s constant presence, and when he carries you up the stairs he doesn’t bother to look where he’s going because he already has the path memorized.

“Wait,” you push up on Ben’s chest, dropping your chin on his shoulder. “Ryan-“

“Hi!” Ryan calls your name from downstairs. “I’m doing homework!”

Don’t know how the fuck he’s my blood. Ben mutters in your head, never breaking his pace. He’s all damn smart and good at homework. “You know the drill, Kid?”

“Dinner in forty, only bother you if it’s an emergency!”

Smug pride inflates in Ben’s chest, and when you lean back he’s already grinning at you with darkened, blown out eyes, his half-hard cock already poking at your thigh.

You wrinkle your nose at him. We are not fucking with Ryan in the house.

We fuck with Ryan in the house all the damn time-

When he’s asleep, or watching TV, or has his headphones on. Not when he can hear it.

Then we’ll have him put headphones on-

You are not asking Ryan to use his headphones so we can have sex. You give Ben’s borderline pout a sweet smile, and lean forward to kiss over his beard. But when he goes to bed, I’ll let you do the thing.

Ben’s hunger grows white-hot and ravenous in your body, and when you meet his eyes, they’re darkened and peeling you apart. You have to squirt.

I can’t control that-

Whatever. Ben kicks open the door to your room, shooting you a wink. You have to let me make you fucking squirt, beautiful. No holding back.

You snort. When have you ever held back during sex.

I managed not to fuck you for six goddamn months. His voice is almost a growl in your head, and it’s not help your resolve to not have sex in the slightest. That’s some goddamn restraint, brat. He drops his mouth to that one spot on your throat, sucking and biting until your fingers curl in his hair. You’re fucking hot.

Thanks. Your voice is breathless, even between your heads, and you give a weak pull of Ben’s hair that only spurs him on. Wait, Ben, I need to talk to you-

That makes his pull away in an instant, his attention vigilant as he scans over your face, your skin suddenly wrapped in his concrete resolve. What the fuck is-

Nothing’s wrong. You take his face between your hands, giving him a soft smile. It’s about the meeting with everyone.

The one that you didn’t fucking invite me to.

The one, you swat at his arm, sticking your tongue out. That I’m trying to tell you about now, you big baby.

Fine. Ben grumbles in your head, watching you expectantly. What.

Have you ever done Secret Santa before?

Once. Vought party in the 80s.

You raise your brows at him. Really? How did that go?

I don’t fucking remember-

Well, it was forty years ago. You hold his face between your hands with a mock pout. Is your memory going, Benjamin? Do Ryan and I have to put you in a home-

Shut the fuck up, brat. Ben moves you flat on your back, kissing a very distracting line along your jaw as your finger curl in his hair.

Ben- You tug him back up—because if he keeps that up, you’ll never get around to telling him anything except more—and the asshole rises up with his hunger covering your bones and muscles, his body big and warm and strong over yours-

“Yes, darling?” Ben drawls, smirking down at you, and you scowl.

“You’re such a fucking cunt-“

“You love it,” he shrugs, still hovering over your body. “Tell me what the fuck the meeting was about to so I,” he pushes his knee between your thighs. “Can focus on this.”

Not with Ryan in the house-

You’ll just have to be quiet. He presses his knee up, bumping right over your clit, and grins at your small whine. Tell me about the meeting.

We’re, fuck- You grind pathetically against him, and Ben drops his weight to down to trap you against the mattress stilling the movements. You dick-

I’ll give you my dick. He kisses you once, long and slow, guiding your arms fully around his neck. Just use your fucking words, beautiful.

It’s a miracle you remember how words work, let alone say any of them, because Ben dives back down to your neck—keeping you pinned down as he works you into a gasping, writhing mess under him—and everything becomes very simply Ben in your mind and body.

“I, um,” he nips at your throat, and you have to swallow a moan. “Kimiko wanted to do something, for the Holidays, and Hughie suggested Secret Santa, so we’re, fuck, Ben, we’re doing that-“

Ben rises back up to frown at you, and you whine at the loss. “Doing what.”

“Secret Santa,” you whisper, taking the moment of his distraction to wrap your legs around his torso. “I put your name in, and, um,” you let go of him for a second, fumbling around in your pocket for Ben’s paper, folded neatly while yours was crumpled. “I grabbed yours.”

Ben wraps an arm around you as he sits up, pulling you to fall over his chest and curl in his lap. “That,” he nods to the paper, still in your hand. “Is who I have to get the gift for.”

You nod with a hum, passing it into his hand. “I didn’t look,” you say, watching him un-wrinkle it. “So don’t-“

“Butcher?” Ben looks up at you with a scowl, a hot, stinging itch spreading over his skin and sitting in his fingers. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with Butcher.”

You sigh. “Tell me. Don’t tell me, Ben.”

“I had to fucking tell you,” he snaps your name, glaring at the paper. “I can’t get a gift for fucking Butcher, all he does is fucking work and pussy around, fucking asshole probably doesn’t even want anything like a normal damn human-“

“There has to be something.” You mumble, tapping your fingers on Ben’s arm. “We’ll figure it out, Ben. I’ll help you. But you can’t tell anyone I did, and you have to pretend you don’t think this is stupid-“

“I don’t think it’s stupid-”

You give him a flat look. “Benjamin-“

“I think Butcher’s a fucking ball strainer.” Ben shrugs, fisting his paper into a ball and tossing it onto the floor. “But I’ve got you, Sunshine, so I’m good.”

You flush, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Ball strainer’s a new one. I like it.”

“Good,” Ben mutters, relaxing under your hands, the glow returning in his chest. “Who the fuck did you get.”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why the fuck not, I told you mine-“

“Which you weren’t supposed to do.” You give him a flat look, and he rolls his eyes. “It’s Secret Santa. You’ll find out with everyone else.

“What’s the fucking point of being married,” Ben grumbles, pulling you a little further up his chest. “If my wife won’t tell me all her secrets.”

“You already know all my secrets, Benjamin.”

“Not fucking all of them-“

“This isn’t a secret.” You smile at him, and the glow spreads up his spine. “It’s a surprise.”

“Whatever.” He grumbles. “Sounds like a fucking secret.”

You kiss his cheek with a soft hum. “Grumpy-“

Your words die in a yelp as Ben flips you over, crashing his mouth into yours with a fervor, his hands squeezing and kneading at your waist.

“Brat,” he growls, and you have to bite your tongue to hold down a loud plea of his name. “I’m going to fuck you stupid, Sunshine, make you fucking drool and beg.” He bites on your lower lip, his knee pushing back to your core, and you whimper. “But you need to keep quiet.”

You will not be able to keep quiet. You’re grinding desperately against him, your mouth slack and open, and your whole body warm and sensitive and buzzing with Ben. Leaving wet, open kisses down your neck, replacing his knee with a broad hand cupping your pussy, groaning onto your skin as he twitches against your thigh.

“Ben-“

“Do you need some fucking help?” He drawls, crawling back up over you with a smirk. “Can’t keep that smart, pretty mouth closed?”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he pushes your panties to the side, running one finger between your folds. “God, Ben, fuck you-“

“I will.” He winks at you, his whole body still filled with adoration and hunger as his tone becomes stern. “Just ask real fucking nice, and I’ll fuck you all you damn want, Sunshine.”

“Ben, please-“

“Think you can keep it the fuck down?”

You nod frantically as Ben’s thumb moves to your clit, rubbing around it but never on it. A metallic tang sits in your mouth as you chew through your cheek, and Ben must see the tint of red or feel the sting of pain, because he pulls back suddenly, and you can’t stop your moan of protest.

“Not going to let you fucking hurt yourself.” He mutters, raising your legs up as he pulls off your underwear. You can talk here, he balls up the cloth, rising back up over your body. But that’s it. Got it?

You glance at the underwear in his hand, and swallow as you realize what he means, your mouth falling open without a single other thought.

Fucking words-

Got it. You smile up at him, curling a hand in his shirt to tug him down into a deep, easy kiss, pulling his tongue between your teeth. Fuck me.

He rises back up, scanning over your features with an attentive, rough care that pulls you apart and makes your whole body molten. There’s a sharp, sore ache over his skin and in his muscles, his free hand trailing slowly over your thighs, and God, if he doesn’t fuck you right now you might die.

Please, Ben. You grind up into the air, letting all of your love and thirst for him leak out of your body and into his. Please.

You can see the moment it hits him. His eyes flash, his nostrils flare, and if there was anything holding him back from just fucking you it’s gone. He presses his thumb on your lower lip in a silent request for you to open, and when you do he looks almost feral. He groans as he stuffs your panties into your mouth, tracing broad fingers over your cheekbones and squeezing your waist as he draws back.

Going to go slow, he mutters in your head, angling your hips up into the air so your ass is resting on his thighs, your dripping pussy is fully at his mercy. Take my fucking time.

Ben-

He slaps your pussy once, and your moan is muffled as your eyes roll back in your head.

So fucking wet, he says your name in the silence, smirking at you as he repeats the movement and your hips buck into the air. And fucking needy, already whining and I’ve barely damn touched you-

Please, you widen your eyes at him, your fingers curling in the sheets when he drags his thumb up, over your slit, and presses hard on your clit. Fuck, Ben-

What do you want, darling. He presses his thumb down, angling it so he can tease your already fluttering cunt with two forefingers. You want my fingers? He shoves them deep into you, crooking them as they hit that deep, soft spot that makes everything in your body sing.

Fuck-

Or, he kisses a sloppy path down your chest—pausing only to flick his tongue over your nipple and smirk at your high, muffled noise of need—and moves one hand back to your hips, adjusting you further upwards as he buries his face between your legs. My mouth?

His beard brushes and tickles your thighs as he tongue-fucks you, his nose bumping your clit, and God, it’s everything. Ben’s everything. Just the sight of him—in all his stupid, handsome glory, all of it just for you—makes you dizzy. And he’s touching you like you’re holy and grinning against your cunt as you make high, muffled sounds, and you’re so close already and he’s so good-

Ben. You don’t have to the strength to push up on your elbows and fully look at him, and he’s holding you still with big, warms hands that pull and rub at your skin, so all you can do is moan into the mock-gag and arch your back when he licks a rough stripe up your cunt. Fuck, Ben, I need you, please-

He hums against you, flattening his tongue on your clit as one hand snakes back under your ass, playing and teasing around your cunt, never pushing in. You like this, darling? Like getting my mouth and fingers the needy fucking miracle you are, like it when I fucking worship your perfect pussy-

Yes, please-

He shoves two fingers back into you, pumping and scissoring as he flicks his tongue over that bundle of nerves. Tell me how good it feels, Sunshine, talk to me-

So good, you whine, and he chuckles in a way that rolls right into the tight coil near your gut. Fuck, Ben, fuck me, please-

That what you want? He rises back up with one last suck of your clit, leaving you whining and empty and fuck, he’s so handsome and all yours and looking at you like you’re some sort of god-

Benjamin-

His cock slaps on your clit—you don’t even know when he took off his pants, because everything is just a haze of warm and pine and Ben and good—and you fucking squeal.

You want my fucking cock, beautiful? Want me to make you squirt all over my fucking dick, fuck you like you deserve, fuck you until that smart, pretty mouth is fucking drooling and screaming my name-

Please, you hook your legs around his waist, trying to guide him inside you. Want you-

Beg.

I did, you asshole- The gag barely muffles your moan as Ben teases the head of his cock inside you, and you almost fly off the bed. Fuck, please-

More.

Please, Ben, please fuck me, please-

Good girl. He pushes himself inside you without further warning, primal satisfaction glowing over his ribs and abdomen as ghosting, iridescent fire covers your skin. So fucking beautiful, he growls your name between your heads, dragging himself out and slamming back in with a bruising force. Fucking perfect. So tight and wet for me, Sunshine, always so fucking good-

Ben groans as you squeeze around him, but he doesn’t pick up the pace. He just moves your hips a little higher, towering over you as he slowly thrusts in and out of your aching pussy.

Fuck, you’re a goddamn marvel, beautiful, feel like fucking heaven, could die here-

Ben, you whimper around your underwear, somehow finding the strength to reach up to him. Please, faster-

It’s all he needs. Ben’s praise becomes slurred as he fucks into you at an inhuman pace, his skin slapping sinfully against yours and his cock bumping your cervix with every thrust.

Christ, fuck- He falls over you, kissing over your collarbone before sucking on your neck, his movements becoming jerking and uncontrolled. You’re- fuck- Such a good girl, taking my cock so fucking good, fucking made for me, best fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, fucking love you-

You’re so close. Everything in you is alight and desperate for release, and you’re only a split second from begging for it when Ben groans against you, rising up to watch you with a devout, starved focus you can feel pounding in your heart.

You’re perfect. His voice in your head is deep and so fucking hungry, and you whimper. Cum, Sunshine.

Release rips through your body, and Ben rips your underwear out of your mouth, slamming his lips over yours and kissing you into the mattress. You scream down his throat as he fucks you through your orgasm, and when something warm and wet flows out of your pussy, Ben’s cock starts to jerk and spill into you. It’s so warm and blissful and made of Ben’s ardor and pleasure, and it sends you over the edge once more.

Neither of you try to move for a minute, Ben’s brow dropping to yours as you sit in his safe, certain warmth.

“We’ve got dinner.” He mutters, kissing the space between your eyes as he pulls out of you. “Go shower, beautiful.”

“You need to shower as well-“

“I’ll shower after.” Ben shrugs, rubbing on your thigh as he sits on the edge of the mattress. “You’re a bigger mess than me, darling.”

“Then I,” you mumble, and he rolls his eyes, jagged affection flaring in his body. “And I’m only a mess because you’re a tease, Pretty Boy.”

Ben snorts, leaning down to give you one last, soft kiss. “You love it,” he mutters onto your lips. “See you downstairs.”

You don’t move for a while after the door closes behind him, and you don’t know how long passes when Ben sparks in your chest, his words low in your head.

Move, Sunshine. Dinner’s almost ready.

Shut up. You smile at the ceiling, because he’d known you would still just be lying, fucked out, in bed. I hate you.

No you don’t. You fucking love me. 

I’m allowed to feel two things, cunt.

But you don’t, brat. Say it.

You roll your eyes, pushing up on the bed. I love you, you dick.

I love you too. You feel him glow in your body, and you shuffle to find where Ben had tossed your pants. See you in ten.

You nod mindlessly into the air, and pull your own paper out, smiling easily at the name. See you soon, my love.

—————

Ben worked in a fucking office. He did a goddamn commute every weekday, got dropped off at a fucking office, received a paper bag and a kiss on the cheek from his wife, then worked from nine to fucking five.

In a fucking office.

At a fucking desk.

Ben had a fucking desk. With a computer and stupid chair that spun in a circle and a mug that his son had gotten him. It said World’s Greatest Grandpa, and his wife had almost fallen over laughing when Ben showed it to her.

You think that’s fucking funny, Sunshine-

I know it’s funny, Benjamin. She’s kissed him, alive and beautiful in his arms, leaning into his body like she’d never want to be anywhere else. And they were out of Dad mugs, so it was either that or you being the World’s Best Mom.

Ben had rolled his eyes, then kept that mug where he could see it all the time. At his desk.

In his fucking office.

His office with a horrible fucking paint job, and lights that barely worked, and a printer that he had no damn idea how to use. It was why he made Kimiko print out photos of Her and Ryan, and he spent most of the day just fucking staring at them and bothering Her through the brain connection while she worked.

Because Ben was—as She’d call it—being a dramatic fucking man child. He only actually went in once or twice a week, for briefs on new missions and paperwork on old ones. The worst part of the whole fucking thing was that he still couldn’t figure out the fucking computer, and every few weeks he had to sleep at a hotel in New York for a case. In reality he got paid damn well, woke up next to the most beautiful woman in fucking history every morning, and picked his son up from school every afternoon. He got to do work he didn’t hate, and work with people who he—against his fucking will—liked enough not to kill.

Butcher was calling it a Private Military Company. She called it Supe Cleanup. And murder maid, but most supe cleanup.

She was fucking right. In all the jobs Butcher had found for them, exactly two had been non-supe related. And whatever She said was the goddamn truth anyway, because no matter what Butcher claimed, they worked for Her. She got Neuman to give them all their damn cases, was the one who funded a lot of their fucking bullshit, and She dealt with most of the aftermath. Butcher wouldn’t say it because he was a pathetic fucking pussy, and She wouldn’t say it because she was too kind for her own damn good, but everyone else knew.

She was the fucking boss. She called the shots, and looked damn hot doing it. She was the one who killed Homelander—all Butcher had done was shoot a fucking gun, any asscuck with eyes and hands could’ve done that—and the one who built this shit up in a matter of months. She had the ideas for the supe reform programs, and employed all the lawyers who represented the countless victims of Vought and Homelander. Christ, She even got Butcher the damn license to be a private contractor, and convinced that Defense Secretary pussy to hire them the post-Vought efforts. She was the one with a real damn job.

Ben, Butcher, Frenchie, and Kimiko sat around until someone told them there was work to do, and then they damn did it and went home.

She testified before congress. She dealt with all the fucking press idiots, and offered the supes second chances the pussies didn’t deserve, and made sure everyone got their reparations. Ben wasn’t really sure what the fuck the actual mission statement of Her whole thing was—She’d explained it, tits pressed together as she crossed her arms, and he hadn’t remembered all her big, fancy fucking words—but he knew she was doing something good. She ran a real company, not a group of four fucking assholes.

“It’s not a company, Benjamin.” She’d told him, straddling his torso and pouting down at him as his hands kneaded her skin. “It’s a non-profit.”

“What’s the damn difference,” he’d grumbled, and she’d sighed, tapping her fingers on his chest.

“Well, if it’s a company I don’t get any government funding. And as a non-profit we get exempt from certain taxes, and it lends us a certain credibility, which is important because a lot of people aren’t going to trust us. Which I understand, this is a mess, but we also can’t give the media or public anything that might lend to confirmation bias-“

Ben had pulled Her down as she started to spiral into a fucking overdrive, and kissed her until she relaxed in his arms.

Don’t fucking hurt yourself, Sunshine. He’d muttered. You had me with ‘well’.

That was- She’d let out a small gasp as Ben nipped on her upper lip, her voice breathy in their heads. I hadn’t even started talking-

I know. He’d smirked against Her, rolling them over so he could look down at Her beautiful face, how it was open and easy and all his to keep joyful. You have me all the damn time, darling.

Good. She’d smiled up at him, Ben might have drowned in how fucking perfect she was. Because you have me as well.

He didn’t have Her now. Ben had Her everywhere in the world, except in his arms. She was in the flicking, golden light of the office, and the off-key, horrible fucking humming Butcher was doing across the room, and wallpaper of his phone. Both She and Ryan were in pieces all over Ben’s desk as well. Not just in the pictures, but the little paper guide She’d made him to the internet. It told him how shit like URLs and emails and incognito mode worked, and it was in Her handwriting because She loved him enough to help him with this. Ryan had contributed, and drawn a little fucking smile on the corner of one of the pages, and Ben kept it open to that section all the damn time.

Ryan was mostly in that stupid damn mug that Ben kept on his desk every moment, even when he wasn’t using it.

She was mostly in the ring on Ben’s finger. Matching Her’s, the only thing he ever owned that he gave a shit about. He’d had houses and trophies and diamonds and stupid fucking crystal plates that barely damn worked, but they’d all been replaceable. This ring wasn’t. It was made of all the stupid scrap Frenchie had found in the pawn shop, and fireproof because his beautiful, perfect wife was a fucking menace.

And She wasn’t fucking replaceable. The ring proved that Ben had Her—alive in his body and consuming his every damn thought—and he’d never fucking lose Her. He simply fucking refused to, because he’d never, ever be able to find someone he knew how to love half as much. Christ, he’d never had a goddamn chance, because loving Her might be the only thing Ben had ever been a natural at. He’d learned how to do it without effort, like it was something he was born for, and he’d never want to do anything else again. He was the only pussy in the world who was worthy of it, as well.

Ben was worthy of Her, because he fucking understood that She was priceless and holy. That loving Her was a task, but fuck it was worth it. Every nightmare and hollow, glassy stare when she retreated back into pain—the feeling like torture in Ben’s body, making him feel fucking sick until she smiled again—was well worth it to love Her. Worth how he might not be the only one who got to see all Her damn perfection on the surface—beauty and kindness and smart words that came with a smarter fucking brain—but it was Ben alone who got to see everything. The whole picture of this insane, infuriating, perfect woman.

And fuck, She was a masterpiece. And She was all fucking Ben’s. All his to tend to and hold, all his to throw around and fight besides, all his to grin at and care for and really fucking love. All Ben’s to give the whole damn world, and then reduce it all to a moan of his name when he fucked Her. When he buried his head in Her pretty pussy that tasted like a heady, slightly bitter, powerful fucking drug and rubbed Her clit until she squirted all over his fucking face. All Ben’s to trace with worshipping, firm hands, all Ben’s to get fucking high on.

Because sometimes he’d have his hand braced near Her head as he fucked her, and she’d be a needy fucking mess under him, and he’d trace fingers over Her lips and cheekbones before brushing the hair from Her face.

And his ring would catch the light through their blind shades.

And Ben would lose his fucking mind.

He’d hit a pace that was inhuman, and kiss Her everywhere he could fucking reach. Breathing would feel pointless, because he had his wife under him, screaming his name and being the only thing in the whole world that mattered. All of Ben’s existence would narrow to his mouth on her own, or kissing at Her breasts, or sucking on her clit. His hands would be for squeezing and pulling Her skin, or tracing and teasing over her perfect body, or thrusting fingers in and out of Her pussy. Shoving them deep enough his ring would come out covered in her arousal, crooking them until she was pleading and whining under him, and tasting Her when he pulled them out, leaving Her ruined and whimpering on the edge.

And he’d split Her open on his cock, make Her say his name like a prayer, and fuck Her until she squirted all over his cock and he could pump her full of his cum-

Stop distracting me, Benjamin.

I didn’t fucking do anything. He drawled Her name between their heads, smirking into the air. You’re the one who’s distracting me, brat.

Shut up, you’re probably at your desk watching baseball. And you know what you fucking did.

Ben rolled his eyes, turning off his monitor, and with it the MBA game. I don’t have a damn clue what you’re talking about, Sunshine, you spoke first-

Because you started getting horny and loud in my brain, and I’m at work. I can’t start masturbating while I talk to MM and Hughie, they’ll never look me in the eyes again.

Tell them to fucking leave.

I’m not kicking them out of our meeting so we can have mind sex.

You’ve kicked them out so we can have real sex-

Ben could almost see the wrinkle of Her nose. That’s not the same, you looked like you were going to kill them if they didn’t leave-

I hadn’t seen you in a fucking week-

Three days, don’t be dramatic-

And, Ben ignored Her, pushing on. Those pussies chose to leave, it’s not like I fucking threatened them-

They could see your boner, my love. Her voice was bored and amused in his head, and Ben wanted to fucking eat the sound and turn it into a moan. And you almost broke down my door demanding we go on a date, and I quote, ‘right fucking now’-

We should go on a date-

Ben-

Tonight, darling, keep your damn head on. You can stash Ryan at Butcher’s, the asshole looks fucking lonely anyway-

Don’t call it stashing, Ben-

Fine, drop him there after you pick him up-

I was actually, um, I was going to- She paused, and Ben could almost hear her nervous swallow. I wanted to ask, and you can say no, but I-

Words, darling-

Could you pick up Ryan today? I have to go do something.

Ben frowned into the air. Something.

Her voice hummed in his head. Yeah.

Are you going to fucking tell me-

No. It’s a surprise.

It’s a fucking secret-

Ben. Her voice was soft and gentle in his head, and that alone made his frown drop to what She called a pout.

What.

If it was a secret, I would’ve told you I’m working late, or going out with Annie and Kimiko, or something else stupid. But it’s not a secret, I just can’t tell you right now.

She was right. She was always fucking right, and Ben had an idea what this was, but he still missed Her. Wanted to touch her and walk with her and make Her bury her face in his arm when he teased her. You’re going to fucking tell me.

I promise that, by the end of the month, I will have told you. And we can do that date on Christmas eve. Whatever you want.

You don’t have to damn bribe me-

I know. She sighed in the silence, and something in Ben ached as Her own guilt clouded over his eyes. But I want to go on a date with you. And I really want to tell you what I’m doing-

You’re getting a gift. Ben said between their heads, and there was a brief silence before She responded.

Shut up.

Ben drawled Her name, grinning at the air. You’re going to get your gift for the stupid fucking Santa thing-

No, I need to go to the mall for that. Actually, She paused, and Ben felt a smile tug at his lips as he pictured Her pretty face starting into the air, her fingers tapping her desk or leg. Could you take Ryan to the mall? Help him get his gifts? And maybe new pants, I think he grew again-

You have to go with us to get the tree.

If Her nose hadn’t been wrinkling before, it sure as fuck was now. I thought I didn’t have to bribe you, Pretty Boy-

It’s not a fucking bribe, Sunshine, it’s a deal. You go do your secret shit-

My surprise shit-

And I’ll get Ryan and do the fucking shopping. But we’re doing that date, and you’re coming with us for the tree.

Okay. Deal. Ben?

He grunted Her name between their heads, and something warm spread over his whole body at the sound of Her sweet, sharp, infinitely adoring voice.

I love you. She whispered. Thank you-

Don’t. Ben muttered. I love you too. But if you’re not home by midnight I’m finding you and carrying you back.

Her giggle was soft in the silence of the office, and Ben didn’t bother to fight the wide grin on his face. Promise?

Brat.

Cunt.

She faded back into a quiet, perfect presence over Ben’s skull, and now he actually had to damn work. But then he’d get to pick Ryan up—Ben didn’t fucking know how shopping worked without Her there, and he didn’t think Ryan would either, but they’d figure it out—and kiss Her dumb when she got back from whatever the hell she was doing.

She’d tell him. Ben didn’t have a single fucking doubt She’d tell him, because they didn’t keep secrets from each other. Ben could feel Her all the fucking time, and knew exactly where she was across the city, and he didn’t have a single damn desire to keep anything from Her at all. He didn’t see the point in it. That’s what fucking marriage was for, Ben giving his everything to Her, while She gave every part of her right back.

It’s why he was so fucking ready for the holidays. Ben hadn’t had a real Christmas since he was fucking six or seven. They’d either been spent at boarding schools or in military camps through his youth, or at drug-fueled parties through his career. Or just fucking alone. When everyone had people to go to that they cared about more, and Ben didn’t have a single fucking person who saw him as their person.

He’d told Her that, and something soft and pained had flashed over her beautiful face as she held his face between his hands. He’d expected an age joke—So in a hundred fucking years, Pretty Boy?—but all he’d gotten was a gentle, slow kiss and loving words.

You’re my person, Benjamin. She’d mumbled against his lips. And as long as you’re stuck with that, we can do whatever you want for Christmas.

I’m not fucking stuck with it, he’d grumbled, hauling Her up his chest. I love you, Sunshine, you’re not getting rid of me until I fucking die.

She’d hummed, smiling at him. So in like a year, old man?

Ben had rolled his eyes—there She was—and kissed Her until she was squirming above him, then fucked up into her as she screamed his name.

And he didn’t really fucking want much else. There were to many damn traditions for this shit. Activities he didn’t understand, and mistletoe he didn’t fucking care about—he didn’t need a damn plant to tell him when to kiss his wife—and cards that were fucking pointless because they had six friends who they saw every damn day.

He wanted to do some of it though. Ben wanted to eat all the food, and watch whatever movie She told him to—he didn’t understand how a movie about the Grinch could be the best Christmas movie ever fucking made, Benjamin, but he’d watch most anything if She sat with him —and he really wanted to do the tree. To get a big one that made the whole house smell good, and he could cover it in stupid lights.

It should be rainbow lights. She’d fucking love rainbow lights, so Ben should get rainbow lights.

Ben should get them a lot of fucking things. He should get Ryan whatever the hell the kid needed to be a kid, and Ben hadn’t been a kid since the fucking 20s, so he’d have to ask Her and see what that shit looked like now. Probably sports gear, and a real phone that wasn’t a damn brick, and a trip to some museums because Ryan was like Her, and they both liked smart shit, and museums were full of smart shit.

She should get a trip to a museum as well, just Her and Ben. She should get twenty more houses, and a massive library that was just for Her to be a genius in, and as many breaks and vacations as Ben could drag her on. Back to their villa in Rome every summer, and up to Boston to visit Her sister, and every other beautiful place in the world.

She should get the fucking world. Ben should be able to drag the sun down from the sky for Her to hold, and break of a piece of the moon for Her to touch.

But this—a normal, easy holiday where Ben could buy find Her something as perfect as she was for a gift—was going to be damn good place to start.

End Note: It was bold of any of them to think Ben would be able to keep any sort of secret from Her.

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Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd @ej13928

@deansbbyx

[neoflect]

I totally agree on pt 5 I'm sorry but giorno has got to be the worst jojo of all time to me. Absolute waste of potential and not a single ounce of personality compared to the jojo before AND after him. Just hype moments and aura

and its not JUST giorno, either, the saddest thing about pt5 is that so much of the front half is loaded with potential and absolutely none of it plays out. i can work with a boring protagonist. i have a lot of issues with pt3 but there is at least enough happening in jotaros proximity to compensate for the fact that he doesnt start to get interesting until after he gets divorced.

pt5 has a boring protagonist, a boring antagonist, a boring conflict with boring execution and, most egregious of all, does not connect to the overarching story of jojo in any meaningful or consequential way. when i say "you can skip pt5" i dont mean that as a value judgement (although it is, because pt5 is bad), i mean you can literally skip straight from the last chapter of pt4 to the first chapter of pt6 without missing any information at all. none of the characters or concepts ever resurface (requiems? the origin of the golden arrow? completely fucking inconsequential); cameo appearances by characters from prior parts, rather than enhancing the story or grounding it within the jojo universe, imo make pt5 actively worse because those appearances never lead to satisfying resolutions! koichi working on the spw foundation's behalf to pursue giorno is meaningless because he just stops doing that as soon as he feels like it (and apparently jotaro & the foundation just dont give a shit because it never comes up again), and polnareffs appearance is maybe the single aspect of pt5 i find most infuriating. ill explain why in a minute.

giorno, narratively, has absolutely no fucking business being the main character of pt5. the story is literally not about him. his being the main character would be an odd choice even if he did have the personality and charisma to justify the outsized focus on him, which he doesnt. the story is about bruno, and/or trish - they bear the pathos and the actual plot threads that drive the narrative. giorno gets the designated protagonist role solely because he has joestar lineage, which makes him the titular JoJo. and in a better story, giornos ancestry and the bizarre circumstances of his paternity might be a plot point, or perhaps a recurring theme, or have literally any remarkable influence at all on the events of the story or even just mentioned by anyone, even once, just once for the love of god im begging you. but it isnt! we see the photo of dio in his wallet and learn that the spw foundation is pursuing him on that basis, and... nothing. koichi goes home. its never mentioned again.

like, up to a certain point, i get it. giorno doesnt seem like the kind of guy who would spill his daddy issues, and obviously the other passione guys dont know his family situation and dont have any reason to press him on it. its understandable that it never comes up. but then... but then... polnareff shows up! someone with established connections to the spw foundation that was pursuing giorno at the beginning of the story, who was one of the very last people to see giornos dad alive and even worked for him for a time, someone who has every reason in the world to know who giornos dad is and presumably to have some feelings about the subject. and he never, ever mentions it once. its totally reasonable that the topic doesnt get broached beforehand but it is fucking narrative malpractice that polnareff never brings it up. and then he gets turned into a turtle.

and on top of all this everything that surrounds the fucking black hole of charisma that is giorno giovanna is just so, so boring. i would still rather be reading jojo at its worst (and make no mistake, pt5 is jojo at its worst) than any other shonen manga on earth, but pt5 is the closest araki ever gets to writing something i would describe as "generic battle-shonen". one of the biggest issues i have with pt3 is how incredibly formulaic it is - the crusaders arrive at a location, they fight an enemy stand user, they move on. but even in pt3 araki occasionally puts a twist on the formula and features stand 'battles' with little to no combat: the sun, oingo boingo bros, d'arby the gambler (one of the best "fights" in the whole series and nobody ever throws a single punch). in fact, araki is often at his best when hes not writing combat: lets go out for italian is a high point in pt4; same for sugar mountain in pt7. pt5 is boring and exhausting because it is all combat all the time. i like king crimson vs metallica just as much as the next guy (definitely the peak of pt5 - probably because giorno isnt in it) but you need to give me any reason at all to get invested in the outcome other than that its really cool and badass.

i know some people really like pt5. i dont fault them for it, in the same way i dont fault babies for being excited by jingling keys. some people dont give a shit about character writing or narrative or pathos and only read jojo for the sexy twinks and the cool fights. and pt5 definitely has those two things, in spades! but its so incredibly frustrating because i can see so easily how pt5 could have been a masterpiece if araki had any interest at all in writing the things i think hes good at. i might hate it less if it didnt have so much potential

[spaceinmyhead13]

Chapter 266

Im going to say this out of the gate: I totally fucking forgot this chapter happens lmao. It's been so long since I read this part of the novel that the whole spanking bit hit me like a truck going 55 in a school zone...

First off, lets start off with the obligatory simping:

GOD I LOVE WOMEN HOLY FUCKING SHIT I WANT HER TO HOLD ME LIKE THAT HOOOOOOOO BOY. I'm so fucking in love with her holy goddamn shit. She's so damn cool and strong and I feel like she'd make the best goddamn pancakes.

Anywho...

Absolute funniest part of this chapter has to be, as I would describe as; "Get Scuffed Idiot"

He legit weighs as much as a cat to her and I think that's so fucking funny. Girly really went "This man is a wild animal so I must treat him as such" and she's right.

Of course, we cant have a chapter with out inflicting Yoo Joonghyuk with emotional damage, and of course he tries to run away from his problems to much failure.

He's so cute when he's tied up

And WOW did I forget this scene existed. Holy shit did the artist not have to go this hard with showing him get his literal ass beat (not that I'm complaining). Really gives me some great ideas for fic nonsense but that's for another time.

And Yoo Joonghyuk, darling, why are you thinking about Dokja while you're getting you ass smacked? Is there something you'd like to tell us????

My god he's so fucking hot. I'd never say this about real men but holy smokes did they not have to write him looking so fucking good while being pounded (literally!). I swear to god this frame justifies my entire head cannon that YJH acts tough and mighty but in reality he does not wear the pants in any relationships. Motherfucker looks like he's straight out of an erotica with that goddamn waist curve goddamn.

All in all this chapter hits like a truck and I'm so happy to have it in my ever growing arsenal of "situations I can put YJH in for fan fictions", new addition: spanking!

Not a lot of lore going on in this chapter other than the look into the 2nd turn during the first few panels, but that was already pretty well established last chapter so I didn't feel the need to go over it again here. I do love that we keep getting hints that Jang Hayoung is indeed a female (since Namgung Minyoung directly says that "this one is my type") but Dokja is just a fucking idiot. I do like that this is subtle though, since readers who haven't read the novel wont really understand why it's so important that she's a female until a bit later. I'm really looking forward to this entire arc since it starts to develop YJH and KDJ a bit better while they're apart from the rest of the company, and it starts the deep dive we'll get into later about the sheer amount of emotional trauma YJH carries with him (which will later be expanded on in the 1864 arc in 2 arcs from now).

[mywifeismothman]

THIS IS KILLING ME.

I picked up tbhk in 2021 thinking it was a silly monster of the week style supernatural comedy. Oh my god, how AidaIro has tricked me. I should have turned back before I got too invested, but tbhk is a part of me now, I think I’d die without it.

IVE BEEN SOBBING FOR THE PAST TEN MINUTES AT MIDNIGHT OVER CHAPTER 120!

Spoiler warning for chapter 120 (read it if you haven’t already and suffer with me):

After chapter 119, this world’s Kou and Mitsuba were basically killed in the red house, once again proving that those two can literally never be happy. When Kou said he’d die for Mitsuba in that one chapter, I don’t think this is what he meant.

But when he says he can’t help them go back, I can’t figure out if he’s talking about Mitsuba or the fact that he’s stuck in the red house. Probably both, as he says something later which implies he’s talking about Mitsuba.

Mostly the red house though, as shown in these panels. Which hit me really hard for some reason.

I started sobbing when I saw these panels though,

Just look at his face, there’s something about the shading and detail in his face which captivates you. Watching the one character who is so fixated on trying to have everyone live die was so heart wrenching.

The parallel between this panel and chapter 118 is killing me. In that chapter, Mitsuba and Kou talk about their bad dreams, ones of the old world where Mitsuba is dead. They don’t want to accept that any of those dreams could be real, promising to each other to live their lives to the fullest, only accepting the dreams as real if they failed to forget.

In this chapter, Mitsuba and Kou were never able to live a life where they could ignore those dreams, almost immediately getting killed. So to Kou, he now had to accept those dreams, with their new reality becoming the bad dream he tells Nene to forget.

This panel also killed me.

He’s clearly talking about Mitsuba, who else could he be talking about. Again showing just how much he means to him. Again, it reminds me of the chapter where Kou talks about dying for Mitsuba, showing that he’ll always be there for him, even in death.

I also want to just talk about poor Nene, look at this panel:

This is the second time that one of her only living friends has had some connection with death, but this is the first time one has straight up disappeared before her eyes. This whole ark has Nene being tormented by death and loss and I hate it.

I wanna touch on Teru quickly. I’ve never loved characters with his type of personality before, but I think this ark has completely changed my mind about him. First, there was that face he made talking about his mother being alive, and then him being forced to exorcise his own brother. Which must have been devastating to Teru, considering that his whole motive is to protect his family, the two he has left. I think this is some of the most emotional we’ve seen in Teru. And I’m crying again

I spent like 30 minutes at midnight typing this out because once again AidaIro has delivered a heartbreaking chapter, and I need to talk about it.

Oh my god, I was so busy crying yesterday I didn’t realize his and Mitsuba’s corpses were in the well.

[latin5mamii]

Angel - Jude Bellingham

|WARNINGS: nsfw (not too much you'll have to wait😉) Previous part |SUMMARY:How could you know that a stupid nickname could change everything? |AUTHOR'S NOTE: Long chapter (I know you love me😌) enjoy!

“Girl he’s literally the love of your life, what’s wrong?”

YES, maybe you were overthinking on Jobe's warning. You know that he, being your best friend forever, has always been protective of you. If there had been something wrong he would have told you right away, right?

The first thing you did after Jude left was call your best friend, who was sure to attack you in any way possible. So now you find yourself talking about it with her, and she thinks you're stupid, obviously, but maybe you too start to think that you're a little paranoid.

“You're right, maybe? I don't know what to think either and I'm not even sure I realized what happened."

That kiss, God, couldn't get out of your head. You'd probably been waiting for this moment since middle school, yet you managed to ruin it from your thoughts. You try to practice one of the therapies to banish bad thoughts but it obviously doesn't work.

“Y/N, let me be honest with you: just trust Jude, you know your bond is very strong and I think he wouldn't have kissed you if he didn't want to”

But that's not what you meant, unfortunately. It's obvious that if he hadn't wanted to kiss you he wouldn't have even stayed at your house to sleep, because let's face it, you both knew what would happen. What if he didn't have to leave? You know very well what would happen after that kiss. You didn't even want to confront Jude because you didn't want him to think that you don't trust him. He said he would write to you as soon as possible. Maybe you have nothing left but to trust him. Ok that you study psychology , but not everyone is definitely crazy or plotting behind your back. And anyway you had other things to think about: You probably didn't forget that he invited you to one of his games, right?

"He also invited me to one of his matches, the one in two weeks, I think"

You can hear your friend gasp in amazement, you can hear an envious but playful tone in her voice.

"Are you fucking serious? Lucky you!"

The day continued in a calm, but boring way. You were waiting for a message from him, that's the truth.

 You even thought about sending him a message, but would you seriously have done it? So you tried to distract yourself: reading, studying , trying to do anything not to think about him, about that kiss and the way he could make you feel butterflies in your stomach at any moment. 

(Seriously, could you stop thinking about him for just one minute? It’s like he’s the only thing on your mind. Oh wait, he probably is.)

The moment you finally stopped thinking about it (Or at least you think) your phone buzzed, and you, as if you've been waiting for years, take it right away, and when you read Jude's name on the screen, you can't help but smile and your heart skips a beat.

Jude: Hey Angel, hope your day was as good as mine. I can't stop thinking about you. Lunch was a drag without you.

You couldn't help but smile as you typed back.

You: Hey, lunch was boring here too. I missed you.

(You missed him? It’s only been a few hours. But hey, who am I to judge?)

A few moments later, your phone buzzed again.

Jude: Let’s make up for it then. Are you free tonight?

Your heart raced at the thought of seeing him again so soon.

You: Definitely. What do you have in mind?

Jude: How about we take a trip to the lake? We can have a picnic and watch the sunset.

You:You always know how to make me smile, what time?

Okay, maybe this message was a bit stupid, but as soon as he replies, you can see that this message was appreciated.

Jude:Built for this, ain’t I? I’ll come pick you up at 6?

You: I can’t wait

Jude:See you soon then, Angel.

You spent the next few hours getting ready, packing a small bag with everything you might need for the lake. The excitement built with each passing minute, your heart racing at the thought of spending the evening with Jude.

As the clock neared 6, you were ready and waiting. Jude arrived right on time, his eyes lighting up as he saw you.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, pulling you into a warm embrace. 

"Beautiful?" You say with a slightly embarrassed tone as you rest your head on his chest.

"I can't deny it" An embarrassed smile appears on your face.

The car ride was pretty quiet, but also stressful because of all those awkward silences that happened because of what happened earlier at your house.

When you got to the lake, you settled on a towel and he started staring at you again, not that you didn't like it.

Jude’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Ready for a swim?” he asked, his voice dripping with playfulness.

“Absolutely,” you replied, slipping off your shoes and heading towards the water. Jude followed close behind, his gaze never leaving you.

Once in the lake, you splashed him playfully, laughing as he blinked in surprise. “Oh, it’s on now,” he said, closing the distance between you with a few swift strokes.

Before you could react, he scooped you up, water dripping from both of you. “Put me down!” you protested, giggling.

“Not a chance,” he replied, his voice low and teasing. He twirled you around before gently setting you back in the water, his hands lingering on your waist.

“Alright, alright, you win,” you said, breathless from laughter.

He grinned, his eyes locking onto yours. “I always do.”

His fingers lightly tracing patterns on your skin under the water, sending shivers up your spine.

“Jude…” you began, but his name on your lips seemed to ignite something in him. His gaze darkened with desire as he moved even closer, his breath hot against your neck.

“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours. The kiss was searing, his hands gripping your waist tightly as if he never wanted to let go. You responded eagerly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer.

The water lapped around you as the kiss deepened, growing more passionate by the second. Jude’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you against him as if he couldn’t get enough. You felt his heart pounding against your chest, matching the frantic beat of your own.

You broke the kiss for a brief moment, gasping for air. But the second you met his eyes, filled with an intensity that took your breath away, you were drawn back together. His hands moved to your hips, lifting you slightly as you wrapped your legs around his waist, anchoring yourself to him.

"We gotta pick up where we left off this morning, yeah?" he groaned against your lips, his voice rough with need.

You nodded quickly and in an instant his lips were on your neck, leaving significant marks. You let a soft moan from your lips and you know that this is driving him even more crazy. His lips are now on your lips again, in a kiss with hunger. You have been waiting for this moment for a long time, and it has finally arrived.

The feel of his skin against yours, the taste of his lips, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the universe,it was intoxicating.

Jude’s hands moved up and down your body, exploring every curve, every inch of you, as if he couldn’t get enough. You matched his intensity, your own hands tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer.

After what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, you finally pulled back, both of you breathless and flushed. Jude rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath.

You both stayed there for a moment, just holding each other, the water gently rocking you. When you finally made your way back to the towel, he started talking to you.

"My mom... she’s been asking about you. She wants you to come to dinner tomorrow night. She misses you,a lot."

Your heart warmed at the thought. Jude's family had always been like a second family to you, and the invitation really warmed your heart, "I'd love to come," you replied, smiling.

“She’ll be happy to hear that”

He said, caressing your cheek. “Anyway, there's one more thing I wanted to ask you.” A sense of anxiety made you laugh nervously. He looked slightly more serious.

"I have to go back to Madrid the day after tomorrow," After a short pause, he continues, "And I was wondering, if maybe you wanted to come with me."

Now you are sure of the fact that most likely, at this request, your eyes widened and perhaps, your heart might have missed more than a beat. Did it mean that you would sleep together every night? Did it mean that perhaps you were his girlfriend? A question now kept bombarding your head: What are you two?

A couple? Best friends who have gone too far? You don't know how long you've been staring at him without giving him a response, but just the thought of actually staring at him shocked embarrasses you so much that it makes you want to disappear.

"I mean, I want to" You are still slightly shocked by the proposal and can't form a sensible sentence.

Jude starts chuckling at your form of communication.

"You want to? Okay, that's a good start"

"But I'll let you know tomorrow for sure, okay?"

"It's more than okay, angel"

After spending a little more time at the lake, enjoying the sunset and each other’s company, you and Jude eventually packed up and headed back to his car. The drive back was filled with comfortable silence and soft music, your hand resting in his, little stolen glances that made you giggle, is this what it feels like when you're in love?When you reached your house, Jude walked you to your door, his arm draped around your shoulders. As you turned to face him, he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Goodnight, beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes twinkling under the porch light.

“Goodnight, Jude,” you replied softly, your heart full as you watched him walk back to his car.

A smile played on your lips and you couldn’t be more excited for what was about to come. You giggled all the way to your apartment and as soon as you got in you flopped onto the bed, stomping your feet excitedly. How can I blame you? You've been waiting for this your whole life.

[hootyhoowoo]

ah! I totally get keeping your ao3 private! in any case, do you have any svsss fic recs you’d shout out? any ships is fine! bingqiu, Liujiu, 79, Liushen, I’ll take it!

Okay i'm sorry this took so long!! I was trying to look through my fics and see what would be appropriate to post bwaahahah

So disclaimer, i'm more of a one-shot type of reader for the most part, I really enjoy a nice hearty and wordy piece. I'm also a whore so I enjoy a lot of pwps!! I delve into omegaverse and some dead dove fics a lot too so please READ THE TAGS before reading

Also, these are more of my own personal reviews of the fics? You can read the summaries +tags to find out more :D I'm sure the authors can summarize better than I can

but anyway, I'll start out with the fics recommended to me by others, and ones that are so widely loved by the fandom!

These are multi-chaptered:

"I Wish You Were My Husband"- Feynite; Bingqiu, Liushen, and Qijiu all in one!

This fic was recommended by a good friend of mine, and it is sooo good anon. It's got wife stealing, love triangles, and is sooo hilariously funny it's made me genuinely laugh out loud while reading. There was times where I felt like I was just reading canon content and had to remind myself this wasn't mxtx writing. The author does a wonderful job in delving into Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan's inner mental gymnastics, and the complicated history and relationships between the different pairings is so tangible and well done. Not to mention the dialogue between SQQ and SQH made me CACKLE.

"Like A Tooth From a Mouth (I Leave A Hole)- Anonymous; Bingyuan (?)

Okay I started this fic but still haven't gotten through all of it, but the first chapter (first few paragraphs really) captivated me so much I was instantly hooked. Actually, I may draw this out at some point bc I really love the beginning of this fic. So angsty. So well written- especially once Liu Qingge gets introduced, he's so cute and I really like the dynamics of everyone in this one. Disciple!Shen yuan with his system and Shizun!Luo Binghe will always be messy and i'm here for it <3

"Shen Yuan of No Relation"- Gemi ; Bingyuan, Qijiu (i'll probably come back and edit if needed)

Ahhh. Ze fic of all time. OKAY so I haven't actually finished this one yet, i'm currently still reading. BUT I WILL SAY: It is so good so far. So good. The author's writing feels so hearty and their descriptions of the setting is something I fell in love with immediately. The way they write the characters is very endearing and i'm giddy with excitement to continue to read c: This fic was very very recommended by multiple friends so i'm happy to finally start it!!

"Love in Another Shape"- Celardor ; Starts Liushen -> Bingliu -> Bingliushen

Okay this fic was recommended to me by the same person who recommended IWYWMH so you know this shit is bangin. I have not read this yet, but I have had many people gush about it to me and had the lovely opportunity to chat w the author and they are the sweetest person so I'm very excited to start it next!!

'Satisfaction'- Raiiskaim ; Bingjiu

ohohoho ok- can I just say I love Raiiskaim's works, but this one is soooo delicious. It's got dead-dove like elements so be warned, but ahhh the follow up to this fic is "Discontent, and the spaces inbetween" and dude omg the ending literally made me gasp. Can't recommend this enough if it's your flavor.

"Blessing in disguise" - chamsie; ...implied Qijiu?

yeah i like omegaverse and i will not be shamed about it on my own blog. BUT this one is not...your typical pwp omegaverse fic. It's very shen jiu centered around him and his babby- shen yuan! it's very cute and good and I quite enjoyed it when I read it a whiiiile ago. Actually, I think it's time for a re-read. heh

-

These next ones are one shots

"We Should Stick Together" and "You're My Best Friend, I'll Love You Forever" - Pennydaniels; Liujiu

ohhhh my god. OHHHH MY GOOOOODDDD. Do you ever read a fic and have it touch something so deeply in you and it's like a soothing balm to a really rough aching burn? yeah so that's how these two fics are to me. I vividly remember reading them on an airplane and literally crying my eyes out I had to ask the flight attendant for tissues- and got side eyed by the other passengers. Specifically YMBF,ILYF.... this fic definitely shaped the way I would like to be loved. Excellent works, definitely recommend, read tags, as always. Pennydaniels is one of my fav ao3 authors, so definitely recommend checking out their other stuff too!

"Through the Widening Circles"- ancient_moonshine ; Bingjiu

Please read tags. It didn't bother me but ik it may not be everyone's flavor- but trust me when I say that this fic also made me sob like a baby, especially towards the end. The author does a great job of navigating through trauma and healing in such a touching way, but it is a pretty heavy fic because of these delicate topics. Such a good read, and I think one of my first SVSSS fanfics too!

"Vedaniya" - ancient_moonshine ; Bingjiu

Once again another fic by this amazing author, this one is a little more kinky ehehe but it's still very good and there's a gut wrenching scene that gets me every time near the beginning.

Anyways I hope this list satisfies! I can't wait to read more and get recommended more as we keep going on this scummy adventure :D if you have any recs, please be sure to drop them down below or in my inbox :3 always happy to add to my queue of reads.

[gh0stly-pages]

Out of Our Minds (Part 5)

Ledger!Joker x Harley Quinn-esque f!reader (18+)

CW: violence by gunfire and gas, implied deaths/fatal injuries

Words: 5.8k

Chapter Summary: After a long night of plans, you're ready to break your patient out of Arkham Asylum

previous part: part 4

Notes: Welcome back! sorry for the long wait, life has been pretty busy but here's the next part! Things are really cooking up in this one. Just wanna preface that in this series you are NOT a good guy, you're turning into a villain like Joker, so there will be lots of violence and so if you're uncomfortable with that stuff I advise you not to keep reading! I won't be getting graphic though (and I really hope that I don't have to be the one to remind you that in real life, murder bad) Also this whole chapter includes a plot for breaking out of Arkham that is very farfetched but we're gonna pretend like it makes sense, okay? okay. Enjoy!

Arkham is cloaked in shadows.

The patients are forced into these shadows, pushed there by people desperate to remain in the light. They want to be the light. To show themselves as all things good and pure. They walk around with their chins held high and their shoulders back, clucking like birds. They are bright. Intelligent. Classy. Or so they want to be seen as. What lurks beneath is all darkness.

These people avoided the shadows, and thank goodness for that.

As you lurked in the shadows, preparing for the madness to come, you couldn’t help but smile.

_________________________________________

Your heart is pounding as you approach the two guards outside of Joker’s cell. You’ve managed to move his session to be the last one of the day, and the anticipation has been killing you.

You don’t know how you got here. You don’t mean literally, you know how you got there, walking with shaking legs through security, scared that somehow they would see it in your face. That you were hiding something. They didn’t even question you, waving you along while looking bored. After that, you realized they couldn’t read you at all. They simply didn’t care. So now, you hold yourself with confidence, hoping everything goes just the way you planned.

But getting here, being Joker’s accomplice, that you were still figuring out.

“Hello boys,” you say to the guards, even though they’ve seen you enough times to know the drill. They hand you the little remote, enter the code, and the door unlocks. Not a single word exchanged. You give them your best bitchy smile before walking through the doors. “Thanks.”

There Joker is, his face paint still intact, though smudged. You let out a deep sigh of relief, and while the door closes behind you, you take your seat, not exactly sure where to start. “Mr. J,” is all you can manage to get out.

Joker leans forward, dark eyes glinting. “Yes, sweets?”

You take a deep breath. “Are you ready to break out of Arkham?”

The smile on his face is like none other you’ve ever seen from him. It’s giddy, it’s dangerous, it’s thrilling. God, you love it. “Doll, that, ah, might just be one of the best things I’ve ever heard you say.”

It took you all night to think up a plan, with the little time you had. You knew you had to take advantage of just how little people cared for you, finally it was serving as a positive. You’d racked your brain, setting up a giant piece of paper on your wall and drawing out the layout of Arkham. You’d marked where the guards would be, how they’d move, the security cameras and alarms scattered around the building. It had all looked like a mess at first. A puzzle you wouldn’t be able to put together. Yet the more you thought about it, the more you realized you were thinking too much about how to perfectly escape and not how to rely on your own strengths. Not only could you fly under the radar, but you were light on your feet, had learned a few tips from Joker on weaponry, and the only people who (mostly) respected you in Arkham were your patients. 

You’d not gotten any sleep but it was worth it as you pieced everything together. The main part of your plan did not necessarily involve high level theatrics like J, but Arkham was in for one hell of a ride.

Reaching up into your hair, you pull out a hair pin, reaching over and grabbing Joker’s wrist. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” you say, starting on attempting to unlock the cuffs. Joker’s lesson was somehow still fresh in your mind but it wasn’t an easy task. “I’m going to press the button on my remote that will alert the two guards outside the door to come in. We’ll be standing on either side of the door, and we’ll need to take them both out.” To your surprise, the handcuffs unlock with a small click, and you beam as the cuffs fall away. 

Joker lifts his hand, moving his wrist, which is partially bruised from the cuffs. “And what about the other layers of security?”

“There’s two layers of security. That was the tricky part, but I’ve talked to a few of my patients and they’ve agreed to… start a ruckus as a distraction. As long as most guards are occupied with the patients, the ones out there won’t have backup. We can knock them out easily.”

He smacks his mouth. “It all sounds too easy.”

You move to his other wrist, pushing the hair pin into the cuff. “I know, but it’s not gonna be easy. Things are going to go wrong but we’ve gotta try.” Again, with a bit of a struggle, the cuffs pull open with a satisfying click. You look down at his ankles, grateful that it seems he hasn’t been cuffed there. “You’re free.”

He stands up, stretching himself out, and you watch with earnestness as he groans and cracks his knuckles. “Not just yet, dolly. Got that remote handy?”

You grab the remote from your purse before tossing the purse to the side. You won’t be needing that anymore. “Got it.” As you stare down at the remote, everything hits you way too fast, like a mallet to the chest. Your breathing falters, your heartbeat speeding up with a rapid bump bump bump-. It’s not that you’re scared, not necessarily, but you’re scared that you’ll fail both you and Joker. You’re not J. You don’t know how to do this shit. “I…”

Everything goes blurry and it takes you a second to realize Joker has moved in front of you. He places his hands on your shoulders, bending slightly to look you right in the eye. “You’ve got a sharp mind, dolly. I, ah, know you wouldn’t fail,” he says, an odd reassurance but it works, and you can feel your breathing go a bit steadier. Then you realize how close the Joker is. He’s touching you, no cuffs, no table between you, no barriers. He’s right in front of you, all of him. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Right,” you mumble, straightening yourself. Much to your disappointment, he drops his hands from you, moving towards the door. You suppose it’s now or never. With a shaky breath, you follow after him, moving to the opposite side of the door. Now, the both of you stand on either side, prepared for whatever comes your way. “Ready?” you ask him.

He nods. “Ready, Doc.”

You press the green button.

The both of you press your backs to the wall as you hear the door click open. It’s far too early into the session for you to be leaving, so the guards must know something is wrong. The first guard walks in, the door swinging open so that it blocks the view of J, while you hold your breath to keep quiet. The guard doesn’t notice you, and his mouth drops open as he sees the table empty. He draws his gun, holding it out. “What the fu-“

Springing into action, Joker grabs the guard from behind, picking him up and throwing him across the room. The guard screams, his gun flying away from him as he hits the floor. In one quick swoop, Joker grabs the gun off the floor and jams the butt of it into the guard’s head, just as the other guard runs inside the room, already firing shots. J made it look so easy, but this other guy is your problem. Filled with a sudden adrenaline, you come up behind him, kicking him forward. You’re not the strongest, so he only stumbles, immediately whipping around to try and shoot you. Combat certainly isn’t your strong suit, not yet, but you can move exceptionally well. You sidestep him as he tries to ram the gun into your stomach, and you opt to knee him in the groin. He groans and tries to shoot you again, and you squeal as the bullets pierce the walls. Thank god the room is soundproof otherwise the guards outside would have come running in. From the corner of your eye, you catch Joker watching you. He’s holding the gun. He could shoot the guy easily but he doesn’t. He wants you to take the guard down. 

“Bitch,” the guard mutters, opting to try and throw himself on top of you just for you to dodge him again, lifting your leg and giving him a good knock to the ribs. He cries out, and as he tilts to the side, you give him a good punch to the temple. With a sick pleasure, you watch as he collapses to the floor, eyes wide open, barely breathing. Quickly, you grab his gun, not wanting to take any chances. 

You look up at Joker, who’s smiling as he watches you catch your breath, gripping the gun in your hand. “Impressive, doll. Though, ah, you definitely need to work on your skills.”

“You’re the one who gave me a night to think of this,” you grumble, and he chuckles. “Wasn’t exactly able to take a defense class.”

“I’ll teach ya.”

Suddenly, the room begins to glow red, sirens blaring that make your bones vibrate. You look at him in panic, he looks at you with excitement. Clearly, you both have very different definitions of fun. The sirens aren’t for you though, the Arkham security team doesn’t like to cause commotion for just a single patient causing mayhem. The patients must have started a ruckus, whether it be a riot or starting a fight with one another, you hadn’t gone into the details. You just told them to be distracting. 

You tilt your head towards the door. “Coming?”

“You go first, doll.”

You move ahead, prying the door open. Two more guards stand in the room, talking in hushed whispers beneath the blare of the siren. They don’t even notice you as you hold out the gun, firing into one guard’s shoulder and immediately spinning and shooting the other one in the hand. The guard whose hand you shot drops to the floor, their gun hitting the ground alongside them, and you quickly move forward and kick it. But as you kick the gun, a bullet flies out in front of you, nearly grazing your nose, and you spin around, the guard who you shot on the shoulder aiming his gun right at you. Fuck. You tense as his finger moves to pull the trigger again but before he can move any farther a bullet digs into his side and then one into his chest and he goes limp. 

You turn to see Joker huffing with the gun in his hand still smoking. “Doll, you’ve got a lot to learn. You’re not even-“ He turns and shoots the other guard in the chest “-getting in good shots. You’re leaving yourself vulnerable. Gotta make sure you get em’ where they can’t shoot back.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You didn’t expect to be this unprepared.

Seeing your expression, Joker falters a bit. “No apologies. I’ve told you, it, uh, doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s just a word.” He comes up to you and nudges you with his shoulder. “C’mon. Last room of guards before we have to run, right?”

“Right.”

“Well then,” he says, pointing to the door with his gun. “You first.”

This time, you don’t want to screw things up. You put the gun behind your back, pulling the door open with your other hand and entering the final room. This room has a security camera in the corner, so you don’t want to go in all guns blazing. You have an idea, and with the gun, gesture for Joker to stay hidden. You hope that’s what your gun waving conveys anyways. Three guards turn to look at you, the ones that greeted you when you first came in, two men and a woman. They’re all masked but you can make out the slight outline of their face beneath the face shield.

The woman runs forward, no gun drawn, leaving it still hanging at her hip. “Miss l/n, what happened?” She tries to crane her neck to see behind you but you’ve inched the door closed enough so she can’t see too much on the other side. “What happened with the nutbag? Are the guards attending to him?” 

You nod rapidly, trying to look like you’re startled. Your acting skills might need some touching up, another thing to work on. “Yes, I- I just wasn’t feeling very comfortable… Felt like I needed to get out of there.”

The woman snorts. “Alright, ma’am. Well, is there anything you need from us? Some other whackos are causing a disturbance.”

“Yes, I, um-“ You pull out your gun. “I need you to step aside and let us through.” You slam the barrel into her stomach, sending her flying backwards, and in one fluid motion you shoot the security camera in the corner and then train your gun on one of the other guards. You can sense Joker step out from behind you, shooting the other guard before he can even lift his own gun. The guard you’ve trained your gun on aims his gun right back at you. “You’re gonna let us go, ain’tcha?” you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. You have to remain confident. “Or else this bullet is going in your head, right, Mr. J?” you say, looking at Joker. If you’re gonna be a villain to these people, might as well play the part.

Joker nods, mimicking your stance and pointing his gun at the guard. “Whaddya say, doll, what should we do if he, uh, refuses to listen?”

You tighten your finger on the trigger. “I can think of a few things.”

The guard drops his gun, raising his hands in surrender. It sends warmth through your chest. Even if it's sickly satisfying. You feel proud. “Okay, okay,” he blubbers, looking between them both. “Please just don’t kill me, I’ll let you go, please.”

Joker giggles. “How generous, you know, normally I’d use you to get out of this place but I don’t think we need the extra weight.” Joker shoots the man in his left hand, bam, then once in the other, bam. “Looks like you won’t be able to do much! Buh-bye!” The man faints immediately.

Seeing Joker at work, this sinister side of him you’ve only seen on the screen, makes you shiver, and your grip on the gun only tightens, knuckles going white. “The uniform. Take his uniform.”

Joker pouts at you. “Aw, it ain’t even my color.”

“J,” you warn.

“Kiddingggg, doll. Why so serious?” Grabbing the man, Joker strips him of his uniform roughly, getting each piece off before stripping out of his own clothes. Your cheeks turn pink and it all happens so fast before you can even think to turn your head and give him privacy. He pulls his shirt up over his head, chest in full display. The first thing that catches your eyes are all the scars and bruises littering his stomach, pink and jagged, scars you want to trace beneath your fingertips. He’s surprisingly toned, just like his arms. Not muscular exactly, but strong looking. Before you can get a better look, he pulls on the guard’s black undershirt, then fastens on the bulletproof vest. When he catches you staring, he grins. “Enjoying the show?”

You turn your head as he kicks off his pants, though you can still see him in your peripheral, throwing on the black cargo pants the guard had donned. “No,” you lie.

“And, are you, uh, gonna be gracing us with a costume change as well?”

You bite back a smile. “No.”

“Pity.”

When he’s finally done, you turn around just as he puts on the helmet. You don’t like that it’s hiding his face from you but you can still see his scarred smile if you look hard enough. “Lookin’ good, soldier,” you tease, saluting him. 

His lips twist into a smirk. “Lucky I like givin’ orders. Let’s move.”

“Okay, J, for this part, you’ve gotta follow me. I’ll run up ahead and lead you down to where we need to go, you gotta take out anyone you can. Got it?”

“Let’s see if we die or not, shall we?”

“You could try and be positive .”

You open the door, poking your head out to look around, and shit, it’s chaos out there, guards running back and forth, clearly busy with whatever the patients started. You can hear screams, banging, and laughter beneath the sound of the still screeching sirens. The place still glows a flashing red. You point to the right, down a long hallway. “This way!” you shout, running towards a set of doors at the every end of the hall. Arkham is a bit of a labyrinth but you know it well. Down that hallway leads to another hall which leads to more doors which then, finally, leads to the staff wing of Arkham. It’s where the back exit/entrance is. And also where you’ve parked your getaway vehicle. 

You don’t wait for Joker, but you can hear his steps behind you, the combat boots he stole pounding on the floor. Nobody seems to notice either of you at first, or they’re too busy to even give it any mind. You know eventually someone will run past Joker’s conference room and realize he’s not inside. His room empty. All traces of him gone. But you hope you’ve bought at least a bit of time. 

As you run, more guards run past you, and you’re nearly knocked off course as one bumps your shoulder. You keep steady on your feet though. Thank goodness for all those gymnastics lessons. The only time you glance over your shoulder is to make sure Joker is behind you before you push through the doors. Once you see him in all his suited up glory, you carry on through the doors, Joker just a step behind. “To the right again,” you yell. There’s less guards down here, but that means even more likely you’ll be caught. Already, you can see them turn to you, wondering what the hell you’re doing running off with one of the guards close behind. As the two of you run, one of the guards turns their attention to you. “Hey! What are you two doing?” the guard barks, running up in front of you. “The lady has a gun!”

You could probably give them an excuse that you’re running away from the danger but you feel too angry. “Running to safety, dumbass!” you say, using the gun like a hammer and hitting them on the head like a game of whack-a-mole. That was a hell of a lot more fun than shooting a gun. As the guard crumples to the floor, at least five other guards take notice, and you have to quickly jump over the guard’s unmoving body to run as fast as you can through the doors. You can hear gunshots explode all around you, it’s like a miracle you’re not hit, and you can tell which gunshots come from the guards and which from J. But before you know it, every single one of them falls flat on the floor. “Nice one, J,” you say, and he cuts up ahead of you, opening the door for you.

“Ladies first,” he says.  

“So gentlemanly.” You shoot out ahead of him. Now you’re in the staff hallway, lined with doors which leads to locker rooms and places to conduct meetings. At the very end of the hall is the exit. You’d be jumping for joy if it wasn’t for the fact that any second more guards would be chasing after you.

You grab his arm, pulling him down the hall, running faster than you ever have in your entire life. “Exit this way!” you scream through the chaos, heading into the “staff only” area of the building. Looming ahead of you, just down the hall of rooms and lockers, is the staff exit, leading to the back end of Arkham. You look over to Joker. “You ready?”

Joker moves his arm away from you, instead grabbing onto your hand with his own free one. “As I’ll ever be.”

The two of you barrel down the hall, practically slamming into the exit doors, desperately tugging them open. There doesn’t seem to be many people around except for a few guards lining the outside, and Joker moves to take care of them as you yank him towards your car. Well, your stolen car. You weren’t gonna risk coming in your own vehicle. “Here,” you say, pointing to a black car in front of you. Letting go of J’s hand, you stuff yourself into the driver's seat, and Joker shoots at another guard before cramming himself into the passenger seat. “Drive,” he yells, and you grab the keys from your pocket, turn them in the key hole, and slam on the pedal. He throws off his mask, tossing it in the back seat. “Faster!”

As you get to driving, you remember the final bits of your plan. The part you’re most proud of. “Hey, J, wanna hear what other distraction I planned?” you yell over the roar of the engine, as you swerve around the parking lot.

“Whaddisit?”

“Gas! The same kind they might have used on you. Rigged it all up on my own. The patients should be all rounded up in their cells by now and the guards? They’re getting knocked out cold!”

You have to focus, but you turn towards Joker, your heart swelling in your chest when he looks impressed. His eyes are wide as he pulls down the window and looks back at Arkham as you pump it straight out of the parking lot, taking down the small security gate. In your rear view mirror, you can see green explosions of gas within the windows. If all worked well, only the guards should be getting knocked out about now, leaving no one to come after you. Police will be on their way, but that at least gives you a bit more time and them a distraction. Plus, they aren’t sure what they’re looking for, no clue what car or who helped Joker escape, not until they can wake the guards.

Now, you realize, you can’t just go back to your apartment. It’s too risky. You look at J as you slow the car, trying to blend in with the rest of Gotham traffic. You failed to plan this far. “J, I don’t know where to go now.”

“I do,” he says, leaning over, making sure not to put too much weight on you or crush you as he takes hold of the wheel. “Just pump the gas, doll, I’ll get us somewhere safe.”

It sounds like a horrible idea, but you nod. You’d make it work. “Okay,” you say, and as the light turns green, you hit the gas. It’s scary as hell just controlling the gas, letting Joker swerve you both around, but you trust him. Ha, funny. You trust the Joker. He drives you towards the outer parts of Gotham, and as you enter a rather dingy residential street, he moves the car off the road. “Park it here,” he says, and you obey, pressing the brake and shifting the car into park. 

“Why here?”

“I’ve got a spot around here.”

“You have an apartment?”

He snorts. “No, I’ve got a, uh, hideout spot in one of the abandoned warehouses at the outskirts of Gotham. And it wouldn’t be very wise to park right outside the entrance.” 

Smart, you hadn’t thought of that. Clearly you lack experience in this realm. You grab the keys and throw open the door, Joker doing the same, and the two of you begin walking on the sidewalk, Joker taking the lead. Darkness has already set over the city, and the two of you walk beneath the light of dim street lamps. It’s cold out, and your white coat isn’t exactly meant to keep you warm, so you hug yourself to try and keep away the chill. “Is it very far?” you ask, and you realize this is the first quiet time you both have had together since escaping. You’ve been too anxious over escaping to even think about everything that’s happened. To think of how the Joker is right next to you, taking you to one of his many hideaways. 

Joker shakes his head. “Not too far, doll.”

Silence settles upon you both, the two of you far too preoccupied with getting to the warehouse to say much of anything else.

As you walk, the blare of sirens starts up in the distance, and when you turn behind you, you can see police lights in the distance. You’re positive they’re not for you, not yet, but if they even caught a glimpse of the Joker, the two of you would be over. Joker knew this too, clearly, grabbing your arm and picking up his pace, practically dragging you as he began to run. Everything is a blur as the two of you fly through the streets. Even though you’re not bad at running, after a few twists and turns, your legs start to hurt, your chest feeling heavy. But Joker doesn’t stop, probably used to running from lord knows what. Before you can register anything, you’re climbing over gates and Joker pushes open the large doors of the abandoned warehouse, pulling you in and up a crumbling flight of stairs until you reach the second floor.

Finally, Joker and you stop moving, taking time to catch your breath. Fuck, everything hurts.

You gasp, throwing yourself against the concrete wall of the warehouse, sliding down until your butt hits the floor. Your chest moves rapidly up and down as you try to catch your breath. Joker crouches in front of you. “Breathe, just breathe, good girl.” He holds out his arms. “C’mere.”

Immediately, you lean forward and throw your arms around him, going limp. He stands up, taking you with him, your legs dragging lifelessly on the floor until only the tips of your toes touch the concrete. You bury your face into his shoulder, and for a second everything feels right. Finally, a quiet moment, and everything crashes down on you, every decision you’ve made. It takes a second for you to process that you’re hugging the Joker, and he’s letting you hug him back. This man, this villain you’d become infatuated with, was holding you close. You’ve imagined something like this before, even when you didn’t want to, but this is better than any of that. “We did it,” you mumble into his guard shirt, which smells like rust and gunsmoke. “We escaped.”

“You did it,” he says, and when you finally pull back to look at him, he’s smiling at you. He gently settles you back on to the floor. “They’re going to come looking for us though. We’ll need to lay low for the moment.”

“In here?” It’s strange to be so close, your arms still wrapped around his neck. “This where you usually stay?”

“I stay all over.”

“Very spacious,” you say, moving your head to look around. “Where do you sleep though? On the hard floor?”

“Chaos doesn’t sleep, darling.”

“No, but people sure do.” You tug gently on one of his locks of hair and he growls. “You need sleep.”

“Can’t sleep now. Not when we’re being pursued.” He wrinkles his nose. “This your first time being a wanted criminal?”

“Duh.”

“I really can’t believe you did it, doll. Made up a whole plan and everything and got me out of Arkham.” Much to your dismay, he moves away from you, walking to some other part of the building. You hesitantly follow after him. “We can camp out here for the night but then we’ll have to move.” In a secluded corner of the room, a moth-eaten curtain hangs from the ceiling, concealing that whole part of the room. Joker takes the curtain in his hand, then looks at you. “Course, we can’t exactly fend for ourselves without weapons, can we?”

Yanking back the curtain, on the other side is a wall full of all sorts of weapons. Guns, knives, even TNT. There’s crates full of clothes, Joker’s clothes, you assume. Some clown masks. All sorts of tools for mischief. You look at it all like a child in a candy store. “J, this is amazing. Isn’t it kind of risky keeping it locked up in here though?”

“I’ve got some goons guarding it. And nobody in Gotham comes in here anymore, I’ve made sure of it.” He shrugs. “If anyone were to find it, let em’ take it, I’d just get duplicates and use them all on the thief.”

You move forward to get a better look at everything as Joker drifts behind you. It should be scary just how much violence is here at his fingertips but know it just makes you swell inside.

“So, how about it, doll? Pick your poison,” Joker says, holding your shoulders from behind. You look over all your options. The guns weren’t exactly your style, you were better at hitting people with them than you were at shooting them. The blades looked nice, and you’d like to learn to use them, but they could only do so much. Something that did catch your eye, sticking out from the other weapons, was a mallet in the corner. It was a tad comically large, definitely not the regular kind you’d see on a construction site. You move forward, Joker moving with you, and grab the handle. 

“Whaddya have this one for?” you ask.

“Uhhhh, to kill people with?”

You glare at his snarky response, though you’re still smiling. “I figured that much. Where’d you get it from though?”

“Amusement Mile.” The old, abandoned theme park towards the other end of Gotham. It’s been shut down ever since you were a child, but you remember your parents driving past it. Seeing a place that must have been so exciting and colorful look so dark and decrepit was chilling. “Found it at one of those old high striker games. Adjusted it a bit.”

Lifting it, you test the weight. It’s definitely heavy, but the weight is distributed evenly, making it easy to maneuver. You give it a quick swing, the whoosh of the mallet like music to your ears. This was what you needed. Sturdy, not too hard to wield, and perfect to pair with your swiftness. “I want this one.”

“Gonna play a game of whack-a-bat with that one?” He maneuvers in front of you, grabbing the handle of the mallet before you could give it another swing. “You can take that one. But you need a gun too. The mallets they’re, uh, too big to get around places sometimes.”

You look back at the wall and point at a small silver gun. “I’ll take that one too.”

He grins. “Are you sure you’re, ah, ready to cause some damage?”

You drop the mallet. “I’ve been ready.” All your life you’ve been pushed to the side. No, pushed to the ground. You were ready to hurt some people back. To make skyscrapers crumble and leaders fall. This anger inside you boils, and you can feel your grip tighten on the handle, envisioning every person who has wronged you.

Joker’s laugh pulls you back to reality, stepping up closer in front of you. “Calm down there, lovely. They call me the Harlequin of Hate but I think that title better suits you,” he says, cupping your chin. “My little Harlequin, partner to the Clown Prince of Crime.”

————————-

That night, you’re stuck sleeping on a mattress on the floor. 

You flop down on your back, the mattress not the comfiest thing you’ve ever slept on but it works. There’s no blanket, so no way of keeping warm, and you try and shift around to find a comfortable position. Joker sits on the edge of the mattress, his knees tucked up to his chest, and it’s such an odd sight to see him so regular that you laugh. His head jerks to look at you. “Admirin’ the view?”

“Maybe,” you say, smiling as you lay on your side. “It’s just weird to see you here. Not in Arkham or fighting B-Man.”

He hums. “It ain’t everyday I bring people around ere’. At least, not like this.”

“Lucky me, huh?”

“You realize you’re in this forever now, right? There’s, uh, no goin’ back from here.”

The weight of it settles on you. “I know... I wouldn’t have gone along if I didn’t know that.”

“Well, if you wanted to go, you could go now. You could walk free, tell the cops I threatened you and made you do all this.” He looks down at his feet. “I, ah, won’t stop you.”

You’re surprised to find your eyes watering. Joker, this menace, a force to be reckoned with, was giving you the option to leave. He could be fooling you, of course, but you could tell from the way the words escaped him awkwardly, uncomfortably tender, that he meant every bit of it. He’d let you go, you could continue your regular life, maybe find a better job. But that wasn’t the point of why you freed him. You wanted to escape too, to show Gotham how corrupt it was, and you wouldn’t do that without J. “I’m not walking away,” you say back.

“You’re insane, ya know that?”

“I know.” You stare at one another in silence. Finally, you yawn. “Are you… are you gonna come to bed?” You’re not sure exactly what’s going on between you and Joker. You like him, you know that much, but how much exactly does he like you? Enough to keep you around, obviously. But to what extent did he want you around? Did he want not just your loyalty but also your affections? You were ready to give affection, but was he? 

Joker shakes his head, and you feel yourself grow disappointed. “You go on, doll. I, uh, gotta keep watch.”

“Mr. J-“

“I like it when you call me that.”

“-You’ve gotta get some sleep. You’re gonna pass out without it.”

“I’ll be fine,” he grumbles. “Don’t ya get your pretty little head worried over it.”

“You’re an ass.”

Your anger only makes him smile. “If you’re so, ah, worried, then just wake up early and I’ll drift off for a bit.”

“Then that’s exactly what I’ll do,” you say, flipping over, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you ticked off. You’re not actually upset, you just wished Joker prioritized himself a bit more. That was something to deal with another day. “Goodnight, J.”

“Night, darlin’.”

That night you dream of Gotham in flames. You dream of chaos. You dream of him.

Taglist:

Taglist: @lightsabergirl / @knoepfl / @jeffswh0re / @itsmrshamilton / @heath-ledger-jokers-wife / @lolwey / @ilovetoomanymen / @amazingzou/ @ronniesweetkisser / @emberhatesthemoon

lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[angelcake10023]

Spy x Family Read-Along [Mission 001]

Oh boy this is mostly me yapping about things as I read it, talking about my thoughts as I go. I should probably stop myself from doing this much in future chapters- but this one is special because it's the first one! Feel free to add your own thoughts about this chapter in the replies, reblogs, or your own post! Make sure to use the tag #sxfra2025 if you do. Now on with the YAPS

The Manga throws you right in out the gate with the constant conflict between the east and west. Which usually boils down to extremists wanting to instigate another war through any controversy they can dig up about either side screwing over the other. I also love how it shows Wise’s goal is to stop these kinds of things, and keep peace afloat between the nations despite being primarily rooted in Westalis. I’m not usually great at utilizing in-depth political conflicts in stories, so I want to really take note of them in my reread because I think Spy Family does it really well.  I would also like to really understand the world building, and take note of anything I might have glazed over previously. 

The conflict in this case being “The Minister of Foreign Affairs” wears a wig being what they planned to use as blackmail is in one part kind of hilarious- while at the same time being an interesting look into how fragile their politics really are and how easily they’re swayed. There’s a reason Wise has to step in to deal with these things, peace is VERY fragile and can be influenced easily by even simple things like this

The first Twilight disguise reveal is so good, I love him so much kaljdkafdjs it’s such a great first showing of his skills as Wise’s best operative. He’s the textbook spy, the man of a thousand faces. You immediately know how competent he is just from his demeanor and I love it. It makes his next assignment all the more humorous. Also love his little Wise dagger pin I want it 

I must’ve been really distracted by Twilight the first few times because I just realized she’s the daughter of the Head of Foreign Affairs. You know that makes a lot more sense. I don't know why I didn’t catch that I’m blind LMAO. Also the Robert look is really funny, the slicked hair, side-part bangs, glasses, it’s so unlike the Loid look despite only being a change in his hairstyle. The Loid look feels the most natural for Twilight in terms of appearance. Also Also cough cough Agent-I Don’t Get Attached- Twilight is about to meet his match. 

I’m curious if the Ciphers stay consistent, I’m marking down “Cipher C” as the Newspaper Cipher 

Skipping forward a bit but kakldjfakldj why is he so PRETTY  I want to put him in a jar and shake him around. 

I feel so terrible for all the kids at this orphanage. It’s the fact that places like this exist that paints the political scene in such a sorry light. More people are obsessed with starting another war between nations than helping kids in situations like this who were probably orphaned by said war. 

Anya lying about her age is something that’s easy to forget, but I hope gets brought up again at some point. Because she IS incredibly smart for her age, and a 1-2 year age difference is a LOT when it comes to mental development in kids. So despite not seeming “smart” for a six-year-old she is doing exceptionally well for a 4-5 year-old. Plus it’s also a great first look into her mind-reading powers, and an excellent subversion into “fantasy” that you probably wouldn’t expect in a historical-political-drama of sorts. 

I desperately need to know more about Anya’s backstory. Like- how did she escape? Is the organization (Project Apple) still after her? We still know so little I feel and I want more. 

God they’re so silly I adore them. The Father-Daughter duo of all time. Also Loid you can’t just leave children home alone you idiot, you literally just adopted her an hour ago. 

I love his straight-ass responses to the childish nonsense Anya spews. It comes off very dad in a way I don’t think he means it to LMAO 

Them. Yes that is all

In a world where Anya can read minds and Yor has super-human strength, somehow the fact that he reads like this still is beyong my comprehension 

Loid can’t catch a hint even before Anya decides to actively hide her mind-reading abilities. My guy it was never subtle you’re just feeding off each other’s autism  

Franky Franklin my beloved <3333 he’s really grown on me. Also Loid oh my god what is wrong with you you’re terrible at this 

This is so cute oh my god 

Forcing myself to skip a bit- It’s crazy that if these guys were able to connect the dots a little more it would completely destroy Twilight’s cover, I wonder if they’ll ever come back 

I love this part so much, it’s such the perfect final piece for his character. Yes he’s a competent spy, focused on his mission before anything else, who acts burdened by having to work alone. But above all else- the reason he does it all to begin with- is to protect people like Anya. It’s to keep them from ever having to experience the tragedies of war as he has. Despite all his grievances, he can’t ever keep himself from doing everything he can to keep that a reality. God it’s so good 

This always gives me chills, man can both Twilight and Yor be SCARY when they want to be 

Then THIS- GOD akdjlkadj They are perfect. He’s already attached to her and he won’t ever admit it. They’re both each others chosen family, and it makes me WEAK. 

Again- so dad. Love them.

SOBBING. WEEPING. AAAAAAA. I think about this every day and how genuinely happy he was that she passed because they both worked so hard for it. And the fact that he relaxed without meaning to just shows how genuine it really was. I miss moments like this with the two of them I want more. 

And of course- now I shall explode into a bajillion, screaming pieces. Sorry this is my last post on this site. 

And OHOHOHO guess who’s time it is NOWWWW you’ll never guess who 

In Conclusion: I yapped way too much, but this first chapter is stock full of so much to talk about. From the beginnings of world building, to spy shenanigans, and found family fluffy nonsense. It’s perfect and probably one of best openings to a Manga. I’m biased though of course. Hopefully I can reign myself in from yapping too much in later chapters cause I don’t think I’d be able to keep this up for all of them lol. 

[pomegranate-fawn]

Weekly Update: Tiredddddd

I spent so much of this week not feeling good, I’m just in a funk still. But I still managed to do a lot of things in my personal life and I think that has to count for something so let’s get into it!

Firstly, I’ve had to change my plans heavily for the future which I think has helped to contribute to this feeling of depression. I missed the application deadline for my Master’s program which is completely my fault and no one else’s, I applied for summer semester but I worry they won’t let me in cause on my unofficial transcripts (which are the only ones I have access to until the 12th of June) I am literally a single A behind a 3.0 gpa. With my last semester’s grade I’m at a 3.2 gpa but of course it doesn’t show that. I can apply in August for my spring semester but I have to obviously wait till then. There are no entry level jobs at any library outside of one all the way at the top of Northern California and I can’t go for that for many reasons. I don’t want to uproot my entire life for a job I may not even get…plus I truly believe Southern California is the only place I belong, I don’t think I could find a part of the world I feel as accepted in as SoCal, which makes me sad cause more and more influencers keep moving here and forcing locals out and taking up once local spaces and turning them into tourist destinations. But I obviously need a job in the meantime, so what do I do? Well, I have decided to go into teaching until I have my masters. I’m studying for my cbest test and I’ll be taking it in the middle of the month. The school districts by me are very desperate for teachers and substitute teachers. I want to get in as a teacher for elementary school children, specifically kindergarten since I used to volunteer with kindergartners every day except weekends for years since I was part of a program to lessen stress for teachers at my elementary school. So I have a lot of experience, plus I do want to help children with reading since I think it’s important for children to learn to read. This won’t be permanent, but it’s my best option until a library job opens back up.

I also want to write a book series, I’m working on the outline and finishing up a few plot points + characters then I should be able to start writing. I know I’ll have to really struggle to get it published but who knows, maybe I can show them my “popular” tumblr fanfics and that will help with publishing lol. You never know! I’ll be sharing a rough draft of the first three chapters in the future for feedback on here as well!

Now let’s move onto more light hearted stuff. So, the day I’m writing this is my mother’s birthday but we celebrated it earlier this week. Still, I plan to make her dinner tonight and clean the house a bit so she can enjoy her birthday today. Earlier this week, we went to Bob’s Big Boy, possibly one of her favorite restaurants. When I think of an American diner, I think of this place or Denny’s…I know, not really small town cozy places but in a state like California, these places are sometimes all you can afford and they become community hubs in their own right. My god mother also came with us to the celebration and we all had a really good time, she ordered this brownie sundae that we all shared, it’s so rich and delicious and warm I miss it lol

During a week where I feel lost, my cats and my partner are my anchor. I feel bad that I barely talked to any of my friends this week but that just means I have to do better this week. But I’m so grateful for both my lovely girl and my cats. My cat Willow was particularly helpful this week, I kept smothering her and cuddling her and crying into her fur (which in turn would make my throat itchy for the rest of the day since I’m mildly allergic to cats…but that won’t stop me from owning them I love cats so so so much) and all she did in response was either huff or let out the cutest little meows and whines in an attempt to get away. But Willow is so sweet she never claws nor bites, she rarely even squirms, she just wants her frustration to be heard lol. My gf took a photo of her this week and she fucking looks like a little bug I actually felt ill looking at this photo like how can one little cat be so cute and bug like?!

Like I said, I think having to change my plans helped to cause these odd feelings in my heart these past two weeks. I’ve wanted a lot of comfort which made me even more emotional and longing for my gf, while we live super close to each other we usually only have the time to see each other once a week but we’re hoping we can see each other more with the summer. I think we will be able to but we still have to wait and see! But regardless, every second I spend with her makes me remember why I’m still here. Maybe that’s a bit corny or sad, but I don’t really care. It’s how I feel. I’m glad I held on this long because I got to meet my darling girl, my only regret in this life is that we didn’t meet sooner. I wish we had, but I have her now, and that’s what matters. Occasionally we will get boba when we hang out, I’m the type of person that tries a singular flavor at a boba shop and decides that’s the only flavor I’ll ever order. I really worry about wasting food so it’s like, what if I order something new and then I don’t like it?! But my darling has come up with a solution, we both order flavors that sound good to the both of us and that way we can trade drinks if we don’t like the flavors we ordered! Yesterday I ordered a blueberry milk tea and she ordered an Ube yam blended smoothie. Oh my god…I really liked my tea but her drink was literally incredible. We both agreed we plan to order the ube drink again next time we go lol.

While I am currently at a weird point in my life since I’m technically “employed” but not at the same time, I have to watch my money. However…long before I knew I’d be in this situation, I preordered some of the nitro chiral 20th anniversary merch…well it came yesterday! I do not regret this, especially since I got it right before the tariffs went into effect so they weren’t horribly priced. Before this purchase we already had Towa, Rei, and Fujieda (both his lawyer look and his casual one) in acrylic stand form. But now we have Taku, Ikuina, and Eiji. I ordered Ikuina and Eiji for my gf but Taku…grandpa is allllll mine. I need to start taking aesthetic photos with these acrylic stands for joyous purposes but I guess I feel a tiny bit embarrassed taking them out in public but also like, I shouldn’t hold that shame, it’s literally not hurting anyone to be a little bit silly.

We started Sweet Pool yesterday and we plan to play more tonight! I played a bit of it in my youth (by played I mean the evil woman who showed me Wolf’s Rain would stream it to me) and I barely remember any of it from back then but the bit me and my gf played yesterday was really fun! I really love the vibes and I love my autistic boy Tetsuo. Oh yeah, another thing that makes Sweet Pool exciting for me is the religious aspect. So I don’t talk about religion on here for many reasons but for a long time I was Christian and I went to only Christian schools until the fourth grade. It was really traumatizing and I think that a lot of churches are genuinely horrible…but I still find the Bible and organized religion interesting. I like talking about religion but most of my friends don’t want to hear about that which is fair, plus I’m not going to talk religion with a practicing Christian since every time I have they try to convert me back to the religion like I left for a reason buddy! But my gf wasn’t raised religious at all, she’s never been to church service once, so she’ll sometimes ask me questions about Christianity and I get to infodump and it’s great!!!

I paint my nails every week! I really love the look of painted nails and it gives me a moment of alone time where I can only focus on myself and nothing nor no one else. It’s really nice…but I also enjoy painting nails with others! I mainly paint my nails and my gfs but I have painted my friends in the past! This week the nail polishes my girlfriend ordered for our anniversary came in! So we decided to paint our nails the same shade! The shade is Jewel Beetle by Mooncat, which is my favorite brand of nail polish. It’s rare she wants her nails painted so it made me super excited and both of our nails came out so cute!!! I keep my nails super short in comparison to her cause I hate the sensation of my nails pressing against the keyboard when I’m typing, it’s very distracting so I keep them short to make typing as comfortable as possible. She keeps her nails longer just cause she likes them like that. The color shift on this polish is actually insane I am obsessed with it…

Last week I highlighted a Sheena Ringo song and I regret that I posted it last week…because I didn’t give you guys the music video! This was the first music video I saw by Sheena Ringo, I was fourteen when I saw it. I still view her as a gay icon cause of it though her sexuality isn’t labeled. But as a young lesbian seeing something like this on my IPhone 5c was incredible, so I wanted you guys to see the music video! Honestly I feel like it makes the song even better.

Earlier this week my friend Joey sent a video to the group chat we’re in and captioned it “how Lynn feels”. Now…most of my old friends would bully me, I feel lame using that word but they wouldn’t compliment me unless it was backhanded. One of them once said I was Cellophane by FKA twigs cause I’d never be enough for anyone I dated…like wow! That’s a crazy thing to say to someone who you call a friend! So the cynical side of me assumed the video would be teasing or cringe, but that’s not what it was at all. It was a video with the global village coffee house aesthetic with Norah Jones song “Don’t know why” playing in the background…it was so sweet I genuinely teared up. I guess that the people I’m friends with now actually like me as a person sometimes…idk I have bad imposter syndrome and I worry that I’m not someone people think about…so even just a little gesture like that reaffirms that not only am I someone people consider a friend but someone they think of fondly…I have been listening to the song a lot, it’s super calm and sweet, I really like it.

I haven’t watched The Last of Us season 2 due to the boycott of it, I thought the first season was fine but after it was put on the boycott list I decided I wouldn’t watch season 2. I’d occasionally get videos talking about the new season in my YouTube feed but I ignored all of them…until this one. I mean the title seemed interesting and I actually think the video is really good! The commodification of art even when it originally came from a real place of creativity is sad to see but something that needs to be discussed. I mean…look at the live action Lilo and Stitch…yikes!

[covenofagatha]

miss covenofagatha i literally disintegrated because that chapter was so good??? oh my god im so excited for the rest of this fic my gosh.

also, this [https://www.tumblr.com/lotsofmilfs/776522844535504896/how-many-secrets-can-you-keep?source=share] made me think of you, lol. i think I've attributed professor!agatha smut to you automatically 😭

---

regardless, due to my sort of flunked exam, here is an absolutely filthy mini brainworm for you:

(g!p daddy agatha, somno, pervert!reader kind of, masturbation, cock and cum sniffing, underwear huffing, degradation)

thinking about coming home late after a stressful day at work, where agatha's asleep already, but you're worked up and need relief. you're already wet just thinking about her, and you realise with delight that she's thinking about you too, if the soft grunts and trembling of her hips is any indication. you squeeze your thighs together as you watch her fidget in her sleep, and you can't help but notice the growing precum stain in her boxers.

it's not your fault, really, that you start to strip and position your already leaking cunt over her face as you not so subtly bury your nose into the very stain. agatha jerks at the sudden weight but doesn't stir, and you take it as a signal to inhale, and the scent of her precum already drives you mad. which really makes you wonder, how will you react to her cum?

"oh fuck, daddy," you whimper, movements stuttering against her face, as you lower the waistband of her underwear to nose the crook of her cock. groaning at the smell of her musk, you unceremoniously graze your clothed cunt against agatha's parted mouth, and she seems to react instinctively, even in her sleep, because agatha bucks her hips and sends her wet cock slapping against your face, which in turn drives you to grind your cunt against her, and the cycle continues.

"daddy, fuck," you whine needlessly, humps getting more erratic as you pant against the crook between her balls and her cock, breathing in her musk greedily. she's not faring much better, and you're genuinely surprised she hasn't woken up yet, but the cock throbbing against your face tells you she's enjoying herself in some way.

when she cums, her eyes fly open, and the sight of your glistening cunt, the sounds of you sniffing coupled with the puffs of air hitting around the globs of cum in her boxers sends another load out of her. there's no holding you back when you move to sniff at the slit of her cock, and she borderline growls at the sight.

"fuck, baby, you're so fucking cockdrunk, hm? all cumdrunk too? so dirty, darling," she mumbles, reaching down to pull your hair. agatha's hands guide you, pushing you deeper into her skin, and your moan rumbles against her as she begins to rut her cock against your cheek. "you got so wet sniffing daddy's cock, hm? you like the smell of daddy's cum, baby? god, you're so fucking pathetic."

the words send you over the edge, and you can't find it in you to rebuke her -- because she's right.

---

i hope you like your sort-of reward, hehe! keep up the great work and do take care dear 💜

-lots of love, worm anon

Ahh I'm so excited too! Genuinely can't wait to write more. And YES I read that and it was SO good I love prof!Agatha and I think we need more of her

Sorry about the exam but FUCK that's a good one thank you so much for sharing I always appreciate your brainworms because god you say what we're all thinking about

Hope you're doing well! Lots of love too 😘

[valeisaslut]

OH MY GOD I'M ACTUALLY DEAD. THIS WAS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER READ BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FEEL. one second I was crying, then laughing then crying again.. I literally giggled like a middle schooler when they finally kissed. it was like the cutest, best thing EVER. I CHOKED on my tears while reading about ellie's first concert after everything, especially when Dina and Jesse came out, like THAT was the moment I completely lost my shit lmao... but like I was so scared while reading this that I genuinely started shaking while reading cause I was not ready for what's about to happen. and then came the ending and I felt like cursing you cause WHAT DO YOU MEAN A KID..? it would've been SO PERFECT without that.. like I don't know man.. it made me feel so empty.. I loved literally everything about collide expect for the last few sentences of this chapter and it's taking me out.. Collide has quite literally changed my life in the best way possible so for my own sake I'm just gonna imagine the story ended after their wedding cause that would've been the most perfect thing imaginable. and oh I do realize it's pathetic but I just can't help it. the kid is literally the only thing I disliked about the story throughout the entirety of this fic so that's probably why I feel so dead inside after finishing it lmao. either way it's your story and I think that you had done an astounding work anyways, like hands down art. this isn't meant to be a hate comment by any means, like god no.. my delusions just created a slightly different ending for this story when I started reading it over a month ago but I still loved this so so much either you way. (and yeah, I'm not a huge fan of kids, especially when they're pushed into perfect stories as you can tell 😭)

but whatever.. cause that has not changed my opinion about this story at all and I hope you'll finally be able to rest now and have some time for yourself cause you definitely deserve it after writing this masterpiece. Thank you for writing collide, for always engaging with the community, and just simply for your dedication, hard work and all the time spent on this. I love you and you are THE BEST writer I've ever seen. no matter what you'll write or do next I'm definitely going to support it because you've already proven yourself as an author and I just know it's going to be perfect. so once again, thank you.

(I don't know what to do with myself now that collide's over though 😭)

oh my god, first of all—thank you. thank you. i genuinely mean that from the deepest part of my pink, weepy little heart. your message was so honest, so emotional, and i respect the hell out of you for telling me how you feel. i promise this isn't going to be one of those weird defensive responses. this is just me, being real with you. and saying thank you, for loving this story the way you have—even when it made you shake, even when it didn’t go how you expected, even when you hated the ending. that's love, too.

and now… about melody.

i get it. god, i get it. you’re not the only one who flinched at the “kid” moment, and that’s so valid. we all carry different relationships with the idea of children, with motherhood, with endings that feel a little too “wrapped up.” but here’s the truth of why i needed that ending. why melody exists.

melody is the collision.

she is the collision of everything they were—messy, broken, burning—and everything they became. she's the proof that sometimes the most unexpected ending can be the one that holds the most healing. not perfect. not soft around the edges. but real.

because yeah, the story could’ve ended at the wedding. easily. a bow. a kiss. a final show. that would’ve been a satisfying, cinematic, beautiful ending. but i didn’t want cinematic. i wanted resurrection. and that meant creating something living out of everything that had died.

melody was never meant to be a “perfect storybook ending.” she was never there to complete them or redeem them. she is not the fix. she’s the echo. the mirror. the second chance at growing something with tenderness, something that didn’t rot from the inside. they’ll fuck up, of course they will. but this time, they’ll show up. together.

and to me, that felt fitting. because what is more defiant than turning all your pain, all your ruin, all your addiction and loss and silence—into a child who is loved beyond belief? who has rachel as her godmother, joel as her grumpy-ass grandpa, jesse and dina as chaotic and hilarious queer aunt and uncle? melody isn’t a plot device. she’s a continuation. of them. of us.

but again—that’s my story. and i adore that yours is different. your version of collide, ending at the wedding, will always be just as valid and precious and sacred. i think it’s kind of beautiful, actually—that the story gave you so much that you needed to imagine your own goodbye. and that means i did my job. because it means collide stayed with you.

and now…

i just want to say thank you. for every single moment you were here. for crying, laughing, shaking, feeling. for being honest with me, for reading every word, for showing up. you were part of the reason this story became more than pixels. you were part of the pulse. the scream. the warmth.

you let me share this story with you and that is something i will never take for granted. i wrote collide during some of the loneliest, hardest moments of my life. and somehow—somehow—you made me feel less alone. you reminded me that words matter. that connection matters. that maybe, love really can come back around.

so thank you. thank you for giving melody a chance, even if she wasn’t what you wanted. thank you for giving me a chance. and thank you for reminding me that stories don’t end when we stop writing—they end when we stop feeling.

and you, my love, felt everything.

i love you. and i’ll carry your words with me for a very long time.

— val ♡

[fanficonly]

Wenclair x Reader -

What are you?- Part 10

Okay so yeah I have been gone... For like ... A long time... Sorry! I cannot give just one reason life has just been a lot to put it lightly. I am getting back into my writing and forgot how much I love it and fanfiction and just Wenclair in general. So I hope this chapter is good enough to move this story along and that some, if any, of you are still interested in it then I will be continuing so for now this is part 10 and more will be happening soon.

Enjoy reading 😋

"You were spying on me?!" You practically yell. Wednesday makes no attempt to explain herself but Enid fumbles over her words stepping towards you prompting you to step back instinctively

"I'm sorry. We're sorry. It was an accident!" She shouts back in defense, not aggressively but more panicked and worried as she dreaded your reaction.

"I- WHAT- This is too weird I-" you clutch the shirt in your hands, letting the fabric crease between your tensed knuckles as you start towards the door again.

"Y/N I have a proposition" Wednesday speaks abruptly, as if snapping out of thought, and the brazen tone she uses stops you from going any further. What could she possibly say that would help the situation right now? No wonder they are suspicious of you, making that phone call didn't make it any better and they had literally creeped on you from a closet! How the hell are you suppose to just let this go?

"A proposition? You spied on me while I was- you know that's not cool guys how did you even get there how did I not notice you?" Your voice trails off as you remember the last hour of time you spent in your room unaware of the prying eyes.

"We are incredibly skilled in being conspicuous" Wednesday says this with a hint of pride seeping out from the cracks of her blunt tone.

"Clearly" you sigh shaking your head a little in disbelief. I mean you didn't want to admit that it didn't completely freak you out because this is something that any normal person should have this reaction too... So you just continue with this course of action.

"We weren't trying to be conspicuous though, we didn't plan it!" Enid looks at Wednesday in matched disbelief. Honestly the thrill the Addams girl gets from stalking someone is a tad worrying but to brag about it like it was some master plan ...God she couldn't believe her girlfriend sometimes.

"Anyway as I was saying, I suggest we all move on from this" she puts it out there and for a split second you almost don't see the gravity of the situation and think the way she talks about it really minimises how you should feel.

Even Enid matches your expression giving Wednesday a puzzled look. How could you just forget about this? What could she possibly say that could stop the pure anger that was subtly building within you now?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the monotones of Wednesday

"We have apologised for spying on you" she says "You have apologised for hurting Enid" again you look away in shame, did she have to keep bringing that up like damn.

Wednesday continued as you drag your mind back the conversation at hand "I suggest we call it even and in return you will forgive us and I will halt all plans to end your life unexpectedly because of your crimes against my girlfriend" Wednesday makes a good point. Maybe this way you could start fresh almost. Yes it was wrong of them but at the same time it was wrong of you to nearly kill Enid on your first day. Seems like a good trade off

"Wow. That... That actually makes sense" you blink in surprise not expecting such a godsend and you smile lightly, recounting everything in your head. Weirdly enough, if you could all just forget about both incidents then maybe you could start building a foundation for friendship or at the very least have no qualms with eachother and not spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulders. You think you can do it.

Wednesday side eyes Enid, and smirks slightly at the puppy dog eyes she was giving her, clearly the wolf enjoys a little bit of violence in her honour. You could tell Enid was trying to contain herself from jumping her girlfriend's bones at the thought of her gerring all protective.

"Of course it makes sense I am a completely competent person with a proven track record for peacemaking" Wednesday let her face rise in another light smirk and Enid giggles. Did she just make .. a joke? Or is she serious?

You look at her quizzically

"Ok perhaps not the peacekeeping but that is what my Enid is for" you slightly giggle to yourself when Wednesday pets the werewolfs head affectionately causing her to raise her shoulders in glee, letting her eyes flutter shut at the touch of her mate.

The way she says "My Enid" and delicately trails her eyes lovingly towards her makes your heart melt and you nod

"Okay fine ..." You hold one hand out while the other still grips your shirt intensely " Truce." Quickly shaking hands with Enid, settling your emotions through meditation and earning a nod from Wednesday indicating she would decline your physical contact, you return to a less nervous state.

"Now... Can Wednesday still ... You know" Enid points to the surgical instruments and you sigh. Honestly at this point you have no choice you cant just leave so instead you say

"Yes thank you" and stand there awaiting instructions again.

"Lay on the bed" Enid motions for you to move, her tone was not demanding more a soft suggestion and you do as you're told.

You smile and lay face down, accepting the pillow Wednesday silently hands you and beginning to get more comfortable.

"How is your pain tolerance?" Wednesday asks as you hear the clatter of tools behind you. The sound urges you to twist your head around, curious as to what she was doing.

"Ummm fairly used to it" you say turning away again.

"Good" Wednesday says and you swear you can just tell she has some kind of sinister smirk covering her features.

"No not good why? Do you get into a lot of fights?" Enid asks casually pulling up a chair to the end of the bed to keep you company as Wednesday prepares her tools.

"Yeah you could say that" you let out a nervous laugh propping your head up with your hands placed under your chin for stability. It really baffles you how easy it was to get back to ... Well yeah normal is the right word you guess.

Enid smiles comforting you and says "Brace yourself" looking behind you apologetically.

"Huh?" You furrow your brow in confusion until "Fuck!" The word leaves your lips harshly as you grip the edge of the mattress in an attempt to ignore the pain you just felt as Wednesday jabs what feels like a burning rod into your scarred body.

words. And as you trail your eyes towards Enid your heart breaks for a second time at her pained expression. She must have felt terrible for bringing it up. You can't stand to see her like this.

"It's okay" you practically vomit out the words harshly trying to stop the tears that threatened Enid's eyes from falling "I- well I grew up with other children around me but no they weren't my siblings". Your mind drifts off thinking about the programme. Other children just like you nothing but numbers in rooms, day after day experiments, fighting and abuse being the core memories of your childhood. .

"So like a group home?" Enid asks and you twitch a little as Wednesday continues her handy work

"God you ask a lot of questions" you opt to deflect that one because how do you describe the home ...house... Building...you were raised in.

The tragic tales of Godmother forcing you all to enhance and control your abilities by using eachother as test dummies and the horrid realisation that this is your life forever. Forever until nevermore that is. Thank god for Nevermore. .

"How else are we suppose to get to know you" Enid smiles. She really did just want to get to know you? There was something so wholesome about her demeanor but again that little voice in your head remained skeptical so you ask "Why do you want to get to know me?" You move to prop you chin up with your hands further, elbows resting on the pillow to see more of the werewolf girl.

"So we can be friends silly" Enid pats your head similar to how Wednesday had petted her earlier and pairs it with a little "Oop" noise which was by far the cutest sound ever to leave the lips of a human.

"You guys want to be my friend?" You ask and almost smack yourself silly for how desperate and weak you sounded.

"Enid does,I prefer the term ally" Wednesday speaks from behind you once again and you crane your neck to give her a half smile in response. She barely changes her face instead running anesthetic around your wound after shooting you a quick look.

"Sure but I am a very private person" you warn hoping this might urge them to lighten up on the police style questioning you were being subjected to.

"So was Wednesday when we first met, now I know all her dirty little secrets" Enid smiles widely again and giggles menacingly.

"Yeah but she's your girlfriend that's different" you raise your eyebrows and smirk.

"I prefer the term soulmate" Wednesday chimes in preparing the hot iron for the third hole on your back.

"Soooo why did you come to Nevermore?" She continues with her "Getting to know you" plan and you bury your face in the pillow as Wednesday cauterizes your third wound. You also note that that's not what she wants to ask you. She wants to ask what you are? What you did? What happened earlier? But here she is luring you into a false sense of security. Either that or she actually planned to stick to the deal of forgiving and forgetting the events. When you don't say anything Enid looks at Wednesday. .

It's still hard to focus with the light grazes of cold fingertips trailing down your back. As Enid stops questioning you your mind races as you become more aware of the Seers hands touching your body.

Luckily you have something else to focus your attention on and instead you're watching Enid again stare at Wednesday. It's as if they are reading each others minds or something but you calm down a little trying to pay attention to the beautiful blonde Infront of you instead of the stunning darker haired girl touching your back.

Stop it. Settle your emotions. Breathing exercises. You close your eyes. God these girls really bought out all these confusing feelings and it was not good for your... Gift .

Suddenly Wednesday presses into your cut and you immediately screech out a noise you have never heard yourself emit before,burying your face into the pillow as Enid reaches for you in concern

"My apologies" she murmurs as you bite into the pillow then your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her fingers glide up your back slowly ... This doesn't feel like she's stitching you up and you panic, what is she doing, that feels .... That's ...

""What are you-" you begin to ask but without warning she presses her full palm onto the uncut part of your upper back once again. .

The rush of feelings electrify your body, every muscle, every bone in your body seizes up and your head whips back as you feel yourself uncontrollable roll off of the bed. A swirl of golden dust surrounds the two of you ... It's happening again but this time it hurts like really hurts ... What is happening?! .

And then you see it.

Flashes. Images, drilling into your head with a migraine inducing force.

A vision of sorts rushes through your brain, partially distorted and yet painfully clear.

It's you

It's Wednesday, Enid and You. All 3 of you cuddled on a bed together. You look happy ... You look like ... You're in... Then suddenly nothing.

Darkness.

Abyss.

...

Y/N!!!" The loud whisper rings in your ears "Y/N can you hear me?" The voice is drowned out, but your vision starts to return, the blurry figures of what you know to be Wednesday and Enid looming over you

"I told you not do it yet!" You hear Enid's voice, muffling but it's. almost like static is penetrating your ears.

"I don't know what happened Cara Mia this doesn't make sense, she should not have felt anything" the sultry tone of Wednesday voice is clearer as your ears regain their ability to hear coherently

"Y/N?" The voice buzzes again

"Urrrgh" you groan, your vision finally focussing and feeling returning your limbs, as you notice you are now situated on the cold wooden floor of their dorm room.

Ouch.

Continuing to squint and widen your eyes in an attempt to sort the feelings and thoughts that accompanied the impending realisation of what had just happened

And then...

You sit up suddenly connecting the dots, the head rush it was accompanied by, threatening to bring up yesterday's dinner. Wednesday is a Seer! And you stupidly let your guard down and piggybacked on a vision she obviously induced when she pressed onto your back.

Fuck.

[generative-sorcery]

Contemplating (or "meditating on" i suppose) K6BD again, and i have a thesis to try out:

For context, whenever i read the phrase "wheel-smashing god" i cannot help but imagine allison smashing a literal cartwheel on the ground in the same way that one of the monkeys in "2001: a space odyssey" smashed a skull with a bone. It sounds like such an unapologetically crude action, doesn't it? But the phrase "reach heaven through violence rings true, after all. That's what violence is, and allison's violent actions will be the red guy's undoing, that's my prediction at least.

Now, dear reader, let's assune that violence is interchangable with change.

Allison has changed a lot from the start, hasn't she? Through trials of character and strength and perseverance and i guess friendship she became what she is, capable of smashing the wheel, thanks to these factors.

This change seems intense to me, forceful in a manner i don't think is fully natural, in the same sense that humanity is unnatural.

Isn't this what war is? Forceful change onto the world? She will smash the wheel just like a monkey would smash a skull. Will she, just like a perfect solider, not stop to consider what she's doing for even a second?

The chapter with the omniscient lady shows us that she has already learned everything that the action will mean, but that is what breaks her, and denial of the truth is exactly what lets her keep going, denial in favor of the more basic wants and needs, happiness. "No one will stop me from having a good time!", is what i think she said.

Is this all that happened in this amazing masterpiece, so far? War?

I guess that's the thesis, so now onto the antithesis:

I feel like change, or violence, can be divided onto two states: the one i mentioned, forceful change onto the world, let's call it war. But i believe there is a second, the forceful change onto oneself. Let's call that one meditation.

The reason i think the war that allison wages is something that is actually beautiful, is because she wages as much violence against herself as she does against her opponents. She meditates on her shortcomings, and roots them out. She clearly sees need for action, and even though at the start she has built up a facade that she believed is her true self, she's willing to abandon it in favor of a goal, that being saving someone at first, then, at the end, smashing the wheel.

All of this is admirable, not only because she truly does save people, but also because it appears that the striving for improvement is her true nature, while striving for being a perfect blonde girl was not. She finds herself where many other people would still cling to their own perspectives of themselves. Perfect meditation achieved by not having anything to call "me" in the first place.

But that worries me i suppose. The greatest change of all, smashing the wheel, will be achieved shortly. What then? That's something that the comic itself asks.

She'll loose her goal, since she has already achieved it. What would a monkey do if there weren't any more skulls to smash? No one can tell at the moment.

This i feel like is also a parallel to the author. I don't know them, but the question of "what will i do after this?" Certainly does matter. Maybe just like allison, they don't have any idea? But that's just a sleculation on my part hehe

Still, the comic does make one think, doesn't it. Love that about good media

If i got something terribly wrong then feel free to correct me, i'd love to hear if anyone else has seen all of this that way, or even completely differently? Who knows what's in other people's heads ha

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Fire in the Sin

Chapter 5 - Radio Killed the Video Star

Word count: 5,164. Read on AO3. Series Masterlist. <- Previous Chapter.

Summary: Takes place during the Episode 2 of the show and follows the same events, just with Mina inserted into the storyline. Alastor starts to make an effort to not be such an ass to her. Some slight simping but no smut . . . yet (wink wink). TW: Canon typical violence and language, torture, and gun violence.

Series Summary:

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 5 - Radio Killed the Video Star

Present Day

Charlie had wanted to meet with everyone first thing in the morning to brainstorm a plan for the hotel now that the next Extermination Day was only six months away. When Mina came down stairs with Niffty, she was surprised to see only Angel lounging on the lobby’s sofa.

When she had first come to the hotel, everyone’s relationship with her had been strained. All but Charlie had kept her at a safe distance, and Charlie was . . .  a lot. The woman was growing on Mina, but the constant hyperactive state she was in drove Mina a little insane sometimes. So she had brought Niffty along with her, offering up her maid services as her first commitment to the hotel.

Mina didn’t own Niffty’s soul, that was Alastor’s position, but Niffty had still stuck by her side the last seven years, even without Alastor around. Their relationship was an odd one. She couldn’t exactly call Niffty a friend as the two had never had what Mina would call a “normal” conversation, but Niffty was a companion. Somewhere between a God daughter, a pet, and a minion.

When Alastor returned, Mina noticed that while Niffty took orders from him and attached herself to him throughout the day, the tiny woman still made an effort to hang around Mina just as much. It meant a lot, since when Alastor had first attained Niffty, Mina had really enjoyed the short woman’s presence, but Niffty had initially treated Mina as not much more than the “bonus Overlord.” They got along well enough, but the two women had never had a bond like Alastor and Niffty had, until he had disappeared. So, it especially warmed her heart whenever Niffty chose to start the day with her rather than Alastor.

Mina took a seat next to Angel while Niffty sprawled across the coffee table.

Angel was another friendship she had been surprised to find she herself in. Although he tended to be extremely obnoxious whenever the subject turned to Alastor, the two demons had sought a strange sort of shelter in each other when they both first arrived at the hotel. Angel was able to vocalize his skepticism about the hotel in a way Mina didn’t dare, but she found his opinions on the place refreshing. And, for the most part, he was actually pretty nice and funny. When he stopped acting like such a slut and would just relax with her, she found him to be the easiest to get along with.

“So, can I ask a question? In all seriousness, I ain’t trying to poke fun here,” Angel asked.

Mina regarded him and decided he looked like he was in a more serious mood than he typically started his day in.

“Alright, shoot,” she said.

“What’s really going on between you and Big Red? I mean, you talk about him like you two are still together-“

“We are,” she said firmly.

“-Right. But you two are not, you know . . . sleeping together. You ain’t even sharing a room so it’s not like it ain’t obvious there’s some trouble in paradise. He comes down here every morning making a big show of how happy he is to be back, with you specifically, and you just keep pushing him away. But you were ssooooo fucking mopey before he got back, so why are you so pissed off now that he’s here?”

Mina signed, “Angel, it’s complicated. And private. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Niffty giggled, “That’s ironic.”

“Shut it,” Mina scolded her, though there was no bite to her remark.

“Oh come on,” Angel prodded, “just between us girls, eh? What the guy do? Because as creepy and evil as he seems to be, he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to screw around. So, what was he doing for seven years that’s got your legs closed up for business?”

“He wont tell her!” Niffty butted in again.

“Niffty!”

“Wait, seriously?” Angel asked.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” Mina stood and stormed out of the room. The audacity of these people sometimes. They were lucky she considered them friends otherwise she’d probably rip their tongues out and eat them in front of them.

__

“So you’re telling me,” Angel said, leaning forward to whisper to Niffty once Mina was up the stairs and out of sight, “that not only will Alastor not tell anyone else where he’s been, but he won't even tell his own wife?”

“Nope!” Niffty said, swinging her legs back and forth in the air. “Not me, not Mina, not anyone. No one knows and it’s really upsetting Mina. But I don’t really care, I’m just glad he’s back.”

“Ooof, tough gig for Kittens though,” Angel said with a sympathetic frown.

__

Alastor was where he had spent the first minutes of every morning since Extermination Day; out on the balcony that overlooked the road to the hotel, drinking his coffee. It had become his own little domestic routine. In decades past, he had always taken his morning coffee in his radio tower; it had the best view in all of Pride ring after all. And though this small balcony couldn’t compare to that, it wasn’t awful, and he tried to make a point of only being in his new smaller tower when necessary. What good would the host of this hotel be if he was always locked away from the other guests?

He smiled in pleasant surprise when Mina stepped out onto the balcony.

“Good morning, my love! Come to join me?”

She neither returned his greeting nor accepted his invitation to sit.

“There’s a meeting about to start any minute downstairs,” was all she said.

He suppressed the urge to sigh, reminding himself a little bit of empathy towards her sour moods was the least he could offer her . . . though she did make it difficult most days.

“I do recall Charlie saying as much last night.”

Mina crossed her arms. “Well, love, are you planning on actually attending then or are you just going to sit up here emitting radio static?”

He didn’t bother hiding the roll of his eyes and his genuinely happy smile turned to that of an irritated smirk.

“I’m sure Charlie can stand to wait a few more minutes. Either that or she’ll clue me in on anything I missed if it’s really important. So please, darling, sit down. I do miss our mornings together.”

Mina hesitated a few seconds, before uncrossing her arms, and sitting in the chair across from him. His true smile returned as he summoned a cup for her, remembering the disturbing amount of creamer she preferred in her coffee. For a carnivore, she had quite the sweet tooth.

He watched with pride as she took a small sip, followed by a larger one as she realized that even after seven years apart, he had gotten it just right. These small moments were all she was allowing him for the moment, so he reveled in each little chip he was able to make in her armor.

He studied her, even though he was pretending not to, and picked up on the way her tail occasionally flicked about at the end, her fingers fidgeted with the handle of her coffee mug, and the way her eyebrows pinched together into the smallest of frowns as she stared unfocused off into the distance.

“Mina,” he prompted gently, “something on your mind this morning?”

Her chest rose as she took a slow, deep breath in, seeming to wage some internal battle with herself before she made the decision to speak.

“Why did you choose a separate room from mine?” she asked, her eyes pulling away from their view to finally look at him.

Oh dear, he thought.

It bothered him how uncertain and sad she looked. Her anger was one thing; difficult to deal with if only because he was so unused to it being directed at him.  His ego couldn’t help but fuel the feelings of indignation her biting remarks sparked in him. But feeling guilty was always worse and Mina’s pure hurt at his actions was near unbearable for him to face.

He was not a man accustomed to admitting guilt. So, when she made eye contact with him and he could see, even for a moment, the depth of the pain he had caused her, he had to look away.

“Is that not what you wanted?” he asked. “You were so angry when I returned. I was simply offering you some space.”

“Why would you think I wanted space?”

Alastor tilted his head, very perplexed by Mina’s sudden switch of emotion from the last several days.

“You have made it perfectly clear how unhappy you are-“ he began but she cut him off.

“I am unhappy, you spanner! I’m so fucking furious and sad, all at once, all of the time, but not because you’re back. Alastor,” she said his name with a sigh and leaned across the table, taking his hand. “I want you to talk to me. Space from you is the last thing I want.”

Alastor nodded. He should have guessed this was where she was going to steer the conversation.

“You want answers,” he said, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “I did promise I would deliver them . . . in time.”

She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms, once again looking away out at the horizon rather than at him.

“I’m afraid we are at an impasse here,” he continued, “if immediate information from me is what you are after and it’s the one thing I cannot give you.”

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes, her anger returning and clearly burning away any signs of sadness.

“You’re not giving me anything.”

Alastor was pretty sure there was an inuendo in her tone, but he chose to ignore it and made a show of looking offended.

“I offer you my undying love and devotion, isn’t that enough?”

She looked back at him, eyeing him up and down as if she were studying him.

“And what about your respect?”

He smiled wider and chuckled.

“Oh, you silly little thing, you,” he said as he dissolved into a shadow, wrapping smokey tendrils around her ankles, and pulling her into the darkness with him only to manifest their bodies a foot away. Standing chest to chest, he cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her face to meet his. “I respect you far more than anyone else in this God forsaken place. You’ve forgotten that was the very reason why I gave up the pursuit for your soul and asked for your hand instead.”

There was a retort on her lips, he could practically see it, and he was going to silence it with a kiss before she got the chance to spit it out. Maybe, if the moment had gone right, he would have even taken them both back to her room and physically showed her all the respect, love, and devotion he was speaking of. Charlie’s meeting be damned.

If only that hulking chunk of metal hadn’t interrupted him, Alastor very likely would have given into many urges he had been keeping at bay lately. Urges he knew Mina would have encouraged, regardless of whether or not she was still angry.

The explosion that hit the side of the hotel blew away the last bit of tension between him and Mina and they pulled away from each other with reluctance.

That snake demon was insane to keep coming back for a fight. Like a game of cat and mouse except the mouse kept running back to get disemboweled.

It had always been a bit entertaining before but this time he had caught Alastor at a very bad time.

___

Mina expertly and aggressively shoved the clip into the tommy gun and brought it up to her shoulder, letting another round off until the demon tied to the post in front of her was just a pile of liquified, smoldering mush.

She had declined both Alastor’s invitation to join him on his errand to the tailor’s and Charlie’s request for help recruiting Sinners to the hotel. Mina knew it was only proving Alastor right that she was causing there to be more space between them, but for the moment, she didn’t care. She physically needed a breather from him after their conversation that morning. And although Charlie’s pleading eyes had admittedly had a tiny effect on her, Mina knew she had to get away.

And Angel had been right there, offering to help her blow off some steam by mentioning he had a robust collection of guns and ammunition.

Instead of going to the gun range he liked to frequent, she showed her appreciation at his offer by taking him to her old stomping grounds.

Abaddon’s Pit.

Her employer and adoptive family member here in Hell didn’t often allow outsiders in but Mina had been part of the family long enough that her personal voucher was never questioned. And although she was no longer a Torturer, she still had free reign to come and go as she pleased.

So she talked to a couple of her old coworkers that she was still close with and got her and Angel an hour with a dozen souls that were there to accept their punishments. She was careful to select ones that she hadn’t sent there herself, avoiding any potential of them recognizing her and giving her secret away. Best that the only thing they verbalize in front of Angel were begs for mercy and screams.

Angel, bless him, didn’t seem the least bit fazed at partaking in some torture. It was too bad he had sold his soul to Valentino before he had caught Abaddon’s attention because he would have been good at this.

“So, this is what happens to Sinners and Hellborn’s when they try to get to Earth, huh?” he asked, as he finished shooting at a rather large bull demon and went to reload. “Gotta say, I don’t see why anyone would take the risk. It’s like, literally the only rule we gotta follow. And what’s so great up there anyway?”

Mina shrugged, “Mostly drugs. There’s a black market for selling Hellish products on Earth, and that, predictably, mostly consists of drugs. But a few of them, like this fucker,” she pointed with her gun as a fresh body materialized on Angel’s board, a cottonmouth demon he had already blown apart a couple times. “Are so racist or homophobic or some other flavor of bigot they think Hell is too progressive and they try to claw their way back up to the surface.”

“Reeaaally?” Angel asked. “And this is what you did for like . . . decades? You actually got paid to torture Hell’s Greatest Dickheads?”

“And the more creative, the better,” Mina said, and held down her trigger until the gun was empty again.

“That .  . . is so fucking awesome,” he said, before he raised his own gun and hesitated. “You know, I think I’ll go a bit slower with this one.”

His tommy gun vanished and out came a rather large pistol that must have already had a round in the chamber because Angel simply aimed and fired. The hissing demon in front of him screamed out in fresh agony as his crotch darkened with crimson.

Mina smiled with pride at Angel. He really would have fit right in with her here.

___

Their walk back to the hotel was a lot more subdued; Mina was lost in her own thoughts of the past and Angel had a set of his arms wrapped around himself as if against some cold draft. That was the problem with torture. It was the best way to blow off steam but it could also leave one feeling incredibly burnt out if they weren’t careful.

She noticed after a while that her new friend tended to look awfully unhappy when he thought no one was looking. It was a feeling she could relate to, at least this last week, and she suddenly felt awful about how a couple of their last conversations had gone, and that wouldn’t do. She hated feeling like she was in the wrong.

“Angel, I think I owe you an apology.” He looked at her in confusion, but his cloudy demeanor had vanished as soon as she had his attention. “I got a bit touchy this morning over nothing and the other day . . . well. I suppose it was a bit overboard to threaten to ‘cauterize your holes’.” She mumbled the last bit, feeling awkward in her shame.

“Aww, shucks toots, it’s no big deal,” Angel said, laughing. “I could learn to back off a bit myself. You’re just so cute and little most of the time, it’s easy to forget how spicy you can be. But that’s probably what Smiles sees in ya’, ain’t it?”

He was trying to be playful and lighten the mood, but Mina felt her face heating up, his words having a very unintended effect on her.

“Shit,” Angel said, immediately noticing the change in her, “I’m sorry, I’ll stop bringing him up.”

They walked in silence for a few more paces, just getting into view of the hotel, before Angel spoke again.

“Okay, actually, I got one more thing to say and then I promise, it’s nadda from me until you say otherwise.”

Mina huffed and stopped walking but said, “Alright fooiinne,” in her heaviest accent, “get on wit’ it.”

“Look, maybe I’m way off here. And whatever I’m about to say, I’m not saying you shouldn’t be upset about the fact that he’s not being upfront about everything. But the only thing that’s obvious about Alastor, to everyone else in that hotel but you, is that he loves you. He may be a scheming, secretive bastard, and super fucking creepy half the time, but what he feels for you . . . that’s the good shit that doesn’t come around often. Your relationship may not be perfect right now but this is Hell, Doll face, and most of us? We’d kill to have someone who looks at us the way he looks at you when you walk into a room.”

Mina felt her chin begin to quiver as she fought back tears, refusing to let them spill. She had cried so many times in the last seven years she wasn’t sure how she had any left. So she took a deep breath and forced them to stay put.

“Why do you think I’m still at that shit hole of a hotel?” she said, forcing herself to crack a smile.

Angel chuckled softy, obviously relieved she hadn’t broken down.

“Whaddya mean? I thought it was for my charming personality and good looks?”

She laughed out loud and Angel pulled her in for a side hug and they were just about to continue walking when suddenly they found themselves on a darkened street that had succumbed to a sudden power outage.

“What the fuck?” Angel said, looking around them as their eyes adjusted to the dull red light from the sky.

“I think I have an idea,” Mina said and pointed to the brightly lit up hotel on the hill above.

Angel raised an eyebrow. “What, you think your man caused a city-wide power failure?”

Mina just shrugged and continued walking. “It tends to happen whenever he and Vox get into it. I was beginning to wonder how long it would take the V’s to figure out Alastor was back. Like oil and water, those two.”

“No way,” Angel said in disbelief, “I’ve worked for Valentino for forever now and I never hear him talking about it.”

 “The other V’s stay out of it. Hell, I stay out of it. Alastor really did try at one time . . . it’s . . .  Well, it’s complicated. And a bit sad, to be honest. But yeah, whenever they bump into each other nowadays, this is usually the result.” Mina gestured to the darkness around them. “Used to happen all the time.”

“Seriously? That means that all those rolling black outs that happened, what? Like a decade ago . . . oh my God!” Angel doubled over laughing. “Your weird ass husband got me so many days off work, Val was pissed! Ha, that’s fucking great! Hey, you think he could do it again next Tuesday? There’s this thing called a donkey show and-“

__

Once inside, Mina couldn’t stop her feet from taking her right up to the top of the hotel and up into Alastor’s Radio tower. His shadow met her near the entrance and practically danced along the wall next to her. Clearly, it was very pleased with itself, and she reached her hand out to touch it, trailing her fingers along the wall as the two of them moved down the hallway together.

She found Alastor lounging in his seat, his feet crossed and resting on the control panel in front of him.

“Up to trouble?” she asked, earning a small laugh from him.

 “Only the best kind, my love.”

Mina leaned against the wall across from his and crossed her arms. Though her expression was relaxed, she made a point of not responding to him just to see if he would offer up any more information unprompted for once.

Alastor took his feet off the panel before him and spun around in his chair to face her. His smile was a knowing one, showing that he was aware of the intent behind her silence but it didn’t bother him.

“It wasn’t much, really,” he began. “Just Vox trying and failing as usual for a power grab. I simply used the opportunity to broadcast the fact that The Radio Demon,” he opened his arms wide for show, the static effect on his voice growing heavier “is back in business.” After a beat, his eyes narrowed, and he continued. “And where did you run off to?”

“To The Pit,” Mina said easily, and her own smile widened as his eyebrows shot up in surprise. She knew that he knew that she was keeping her own secrets and that he suspected they involved Abaddon, so she let him sit with her admission for a second longer before she added, “I took Angel shooting there, just for fun. The targets there are far more lifelike, as you know.”

“And how is our old friend?” Alastor asked pointedly, speaking of Abaddon.

“Getting along as usual, I suppose, though I didn’t see them today.”

“Today,” he repeated, “well, they should be getting along great if their best employees are now working for them for free.”

Mina tossed her hands up in the air.

“Why do you insist on being such a stubborn tosser every time their name comes up? Honestly, love, I thought you would be in a good mood now, that’s why I came up here.”

“I’m in a wonderful mood,” he said defensively, “and I was in a good mood this morning, too.”

Her shoulders dropped as she felt something in her soften. She was just so tired. It was exhausting always being angry with him and constantly trying to outwit him in arguments. For over a week now,  she had been swinging back and forth between wanting to fight him and wanting to fuck him and suddenly she wanted neither. She just wanted the man she loved to hold her.

Alastor, astutely clued into her moods as of late, noticed the change and, never one to waste an opportunity when presented, stood up.

“And what kind of radio show host am I? Not playing any music, how shameful.”

A snap of his finger and sounds of soft jazz filled the room. Mina recognized it as a favorite ballad of his to slow dance to. It didn’t have lyrics, which as a singer and poet, Mina usually found distasteful, but she had to admit, as Alastor took her hand and led her to the middle of the room, she appreciated the absence of words now as it gave her mind more space to focus on the body pressed against hers.

Alastor and Mina did not share the same love languages. Hers was physical touch; she needed to be held, kissed, touched, fucked; to reinforce a connection and though Alastor was certainly capable of providing that, he more often showed his affections through more subtle forms. An act of service, a show of vulnerability, private quality time; they all meant just as much to him as a passionate evening in bed.

He was choosing to slow dance with her alone in his tower rather than pick a petty fight over her old boss – who he really loved to hate – and for him, that was a massive display of devotion.

Mina rested her cheek against him as they swayed, savoring the moment. She knew this peace wouldn’t last long; eventually the secrets between them would drive them apart again. But as the song ended and transitioned to another and their dancing didn’t cease, Mina felt a glimmer of hope that this rift between them wasn’t permanent.

Angel’s words from earlier were still fresh in her mind, and she held onto Alastor just a little tighter as she mulled them over.

She could be an awful person. Had done truly horrific things to people whenever she felt justified in doing so. Her ability to cut ties with all empathy for a person could disturb even herself. But she loved this man. And although he was capable of even more heinous acts than herself, she knew in her bones he felt the same about her. They had always been each other’s exception to all their worst traits; the one thing in their lives they always chose to treat with tender care.

Not even the last seven years could undo that kind bond.

___

They had walked hand in hand through the hotel. Their private moment had to eventually come to an end, and they wordlessly decided to leave the radio tower together. The dance had been exactly what Alastor needed after such an invigorating day and he felt rather calm and sated.

Until they had come face to face with Sir Pentious, their new co-resident in redemption.

The demon was an absolute buffoon and Alastor did enjoy making a show of degrading him, but he did find it a bit insulting that Charlie seemed far more trusting of Pentious than she ever had of himself.

“Oh, love, it’s probably just because he’s the furthest thing from threatening,” Mina said when they had a moment alone on the sofa before Charlie’s next activity began. “Even when you’re not trying, you give off very threatening vibes.”

“Hmmm,” Alastor nodded, taking her words as a compliment, and leaning into the gentle one-handed back rub she was giving him. “I suppose I can’t help myself.”

She pulled away and Alastor immediately missed the contact.

“It’s a bit funny though, don’t you think? He shows up so soon after you’re fight with Vox.”

“It was hardly a fight,” Alastor corrected. “I wouldn’t even respect that interaction enough to call it an argument. But, yes, I was thinking much the same thing. That idiot is up to something, though I doubt he’s competent enough to pull anything off.”

Mina leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder.

“You could always use it to your advantage. Expose him for what he is and look the hero for it.”

“I do love the way your mind works,” he said, pressing a kiss between her ears, “but this time, I think I’m more in the mood to follow Charlie’s lead and then watch it blow up in her face. It’ll be entertaining and like I said,” Alastor sighed, sounding almost regretful, “it’s not like he’s going to cause any real damage around here.”

When the others joined them, Alastor sat upright through the whole ridiculous performance. Sir Pentious was as over the top and believable as a monkey dressed up in woman’s clothing, but it was still wildly entertaining to watch.

His poor, poor Charlie. She believed every word of it, too. The Hellborn clapped and cheered, so blindly desperate to believe in redemption that she was more convinced in the V’s puppet show than she was in the hotel’s only real resident.

She had all but abandoned hope in Angel, discarding him and even put his faults on display for everyone with the little skit she had written up. It was hilarious. Charlie was so easily manipulated into believing lies and giving up on her friends.

How . . . beneficial.

Mina had seemed genuinely upset when Angel had announced he was turning in early and she had wanted to scold Charlie for her negligence. Alastor held her back, telling her to let things simmer a little longer and assuring her that the spider could handle himself.

When everyone else had retired for the night, Mina had asked if he would join her, but he declined. He had told her he simply was still too wound up from the day and was planning on a few more hours in his tower to catch up on some work, but that was a lie on a couple of fronts.

Alastor was exhausted, not having truly slept since his return, and the surge of power he had sent out into the city hours before had nearly drained him of what was left. He also did not plan on getting any work on his station done, not with Pentious wandering about. So, he lingered in the shadows, utilizing the dimmed lights of the hotel to hide, and watched the drama unfold.

He saw it all; Pentious hiding the camera and Angel’s drunken confrontation with him. Vox’s outburst and Charlie’s act of forgiveness. It was all so delightful and once it was all over for the evening, Alastor joined with his shadow and headed straight for Mina’s room.

This was something he could tell her about and after how well things had gone between them that day, Alastor was sure it would seal the deal and help him gain her trust back completely. Once he had informed her of everything that had transpired, he would join her in bed and finally succumb to his body’s need for sleep. In the morning, he would make a point of moving the rest of his stuff into her room, and all would be right between them again.

He slipped beneath the frame of her bedroom door and solidified at the foot of her bed. What he saw made his smile strain unnaturally across his features and his ears pin back.

The bed was made up and empty.

Mina had fucking left . . . again.

Next Chapter ->

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 47

chapter 72:

1. “The day of Marlene's memorial is the first time Dorcas decides she's going to kill herself.” oh shit, oh fuck wait

2. bro dorcas is unwell. like holy shit. i forget that the war started because of dorcas’ love for marlene. like. this is just as much of a dorlene fic too

3. dear god i wanna help dorcas so badly

4. call it instinct, but i knew dorcas’ hair would be a crucial part of her healing journey 💃🏼💃🏼

5. i love well rounded female characters but at what cost. dorcas is well rounded but at what cost? she’s suffering and it hurts to read

6. god damn. finding out that dorcas’ mom was in charge of a quarterly quell is fucking insane. considering that dorcas all but ran the resistance

7. “”You said it first, didn't you? There are no good people in war. I lived by those words, did you know that? All that you were wrong about, but that…" She gives a brittle laugh. "You were right about that."”

foaming at the mouth oh my god. i wanna chomp glass

8. DORCAS NO! (she started drinking fyi)

9. dear god dorcas, you aren’t the only one who knew the “real” marlene. people other than you loved her.

10. dorcas finally admitting that if she could choose someone other than dorcas it would be lily hurts. especially since lily has mary.

11. “Marlene was the love of her life, and that's it. Simple as that. She'll never love another.” OWWWWW

12. “She will make sure Lily never knows that Dorcas looks at her now and thinks before this life, it could have been us; maybe in some other life, it is. And that's more than enough.”

DNDNSMMSJSKEJNS AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

13. brb i’m sobbing

okay i’m back. dorcas just found out marlene was gonna propose and now i’m a sniveling mess

14. so much thanks to bizzarestars making the effort to learn about the way war vets healed and dealt with ptsd

chapter 73:

1. sirius having an emotional support dog >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

2. also imma make predictions now: this is the chapter where sirius goes home. it’s time

3. YES YES YES YES THEYRE GOING HOME FUCK YEAH

4. “A homely little home with a porch-swing under the stars. Sirius is homesick for that, too.”

this is my dream too. like it’s been my dream for so long. i can’t even fathom how sirius isn’t bawling like a baby over this. IM bawling like a baby over THEIR porch swing

5. regulus saw sirius and was willing to risk it all just to hug him omg

6. “Barty was the sort of person who needed no outside guidance into being a bit insane.” LMAOOOOOO

7. they’re running a business together and they’re gonna do it forever and now i want to gnaw on wood and glass and plastic and anything i can get my hands on

8. lmao not sirius sitting like a spoiled puppy dog as james and regulus argue over him for the wedding

9. “"Oh, please," James scoffs, rolling his eyes. "One, I'm not stealing your brother away from you, and you know it. Two, who the fuck else would be my best man, hm? Who? Go on."

"Oh, you want to go there?!" Regulus shouts. "What about me? Yeah, didn't think about that, did you? My best friend is dead. Oh, and so is Barty. Who do I have, James? Hm?"”

FUCKING CACKLING

10. awwwww sirius’ compromise is so sweet omg. i’d literally cry if i was james and regulus

11. ugh gay people are so confusing. like you’re allowed to be freinds with the same people and freinds with any gender. so like, it makes wedding planning so hard. who goes on who’s side? what if i said that when i found out about gay people, my biggest hold up wasn’t religion or anything like that, but instead wedding side logistics

12. canonical genderqueer tonks!!!!!!!!!

13. regulus went to aberforth to cause a scene, and damn if he didn’t succeed

14. damn they’re both stubborn. and both got their way jfc

15. full circle. dorcas is designing their wedding clothes. i’m losing my mind, actually

16. the bookshelf. the fucking bookshelf from the first arena. i’m losing my mind oh my god

17. CACKLING OMG. REGULUS WAS WORRIED THAT JAMES WOULD BE SCARED OF THE DAGGERS, BUT INSTEAD HE GOT SO FUCKING TURNED ON OMG

18. STILL FUCKING CACKLING OMG

19. i didn’t know i needed insecure james, but oh i did

20. i get to read the crimson rivers jegulus wedding and oh my fucking god i’m losing it. i am so unbelievably happy

21. “For him, it's easiest to show love when it's a tragedy.”

dksjdjjsjdjsmdjske holy shit

22. “You're hesitating, love."”

AHDHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

23. “You might wish to know a lot of things about their wedding, and their love, but frankly, it's no one's business but theirs.” so feral over this. that’s literally one of the biggest themes of the story omg i love this

24. hi, anyways, i am so unwell

25. the authors notes about the wedding are golden

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #200

1. Hi! Idk if you can help me but I trying to find this one specific fic. I think the plot was gabirel and sandalphon try to ruin aziraphale and crowley’s reputation by yelling that they’re gay in public but literally no one cares and they get chewed out for it by an elderly couple. I’m pretty sure that it’s either a one shot or like two/three chapters and that it’s pre season 2. Idk if this helps. Thanks! - anon

2. Lost a fic that I can't remember much about but it had multiple chapters, Aziraphale and Crowley through the years, and some female presenting. I remember there was a scene where they were on a boat and it flipped, due to Crowley leaning in for a kiss. There's also mentions of Aziraphale's diary and feelings for Crowley. Another scene was a picnic and almost kiss. Eventually they talked it out and realized they loved each other and Aziraphale asked Crowley if she intended for them to almost kiss on the boat. I think it's on Ao3? No idea. - @spaceypotato19

3. Hii, first of all thanks so much for all the work you do here!! I am looking for a fic and I can't find it in my bookmarks or using the tags of this blog. It was a cinderella au but with a a/b/o twist. Azi was the omega and to go to the dance anathema uses a potion or smth to make it look like hes an alpha and A and C meet and they fall in love and marry but eventualy C descovers the truth and there was a kidnapping or smth. I also remember C calling omegas in general very clingy and A taking offense and such. It was a long fic, probably 80k+ I belive Thanksss! - @just-here-doing-something

4. Hi! I'm hoping you can help me find a fic. It's a sequel (although i can't find part 1 either) where Crowley accidentally switches to female genitals. He freaks out because he didn't think Aziraphale will want him anymore, so he freezes time and runs away. The other moment I remember is that it turns out Crowley has not been killing plants. Rather he puts them on his balcony for "retirement." It has a happy ending. I how you can help, because it's driving me crazy! Thanks!! - anon

5. Hello :3 I am aware that you are all very busy but I thought I'd shoot my shot. A friend and I were talking about a specific plotline of a fic that we both remember, it being Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship with their own mothers being a representation of their relationship with God in the original work. We remember that Crowley was jealous of Aziraphale's unconditional and undying love for his mother even though he never knew her cause she died when he was really young and was raised by his grandfather, hence why he's so old fashioned, because his own mother was really crappy and threw him out of the house when he was young. This talk made me want to read it again, but neither of us can remember the title or the main plot apart from this one thing. If anyone has any idea what he could be, please let me know!! (And thank you in advance to anyone who can help) I feel like I should also mention, at some point Crowley goes into Aziraphale's room and sees pictures of him as a baby with his mother looking very happy on his bedside table and that's when he starts feeling jealous. There's also a bunch of other childhood pictures of Aziraphale on there but the most important one is the one with his mother. (also, it was a human au, if that helps) If you could help me find it, I would be ever so grateful. Thank you so much! - @sunlecitron

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D