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talesofbirbal · 2 years ago

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Brick House

Carol could tell a lot by the way a person entered a room. Liam, who had slipped in awkwardly and slyly through the door just now, fascinated her more than any other client she had come across for quite a while. Partly because, let's face it, she admitted to herself, he was drop-dead gorgeous, late twenties, with curly brown hair, bedazzling radioactive blue eyes, open friendly features and a masculine, thicc athletic physique she could not help but lust for. In another setting, she would have been tempted, she would have dared a move, but here, in this one, the ethics of counsellor-client relationships was a reality. Her attraction towards him could not enter the equation. Still, she consoled herself, she could listen to his slow, beautiful, haunting voice, and this she did.

"I've really taken in everything you said in our last session, and the previous sessions, it's so good, I appreciate it so much, I've really taken it on board," he said. "But it's not going away, instead it's getting more and more intense. Ever since I moved into my new place, Brick House, something crazy weird comes over me in the evenings and late at night. I get madly hungry, not normally hungry, I mean desperately hungry. And, like aroused, y'know. It feels like there is a presence coming over me, making this happen. Something that's not me, that's outside of me, completely outside of me. I try to resist, to say no, but then it feels so good, so addictive, and so it goes on. And I can't stop it, I don't know how to stop it."

"You said last time it felt to you like it was something supernatural, maybe something connected to Brick House."

"It does, it so absolutely does, but you must find that totally batshit crazy, right?"

"I'm not here to judge you or judge your perceptions or beliefs, Liam."

Liam, who had been staring at the floor, sucked in the cute little belly he was so self-conscious about, and looked up at Carol with puppy dog eyes.

"Let me say this, Liam," she continued. "I am no expert on the supernatural and that sort of thing, and have no firm or strong beliefs on it either way, if I'm honest, because it's simply not something I've encountered or delved into much. What I can say, as your counsellor, is I have talked to you over a number of sessions, and I feel you are basically, a very logical-thinking, rational person, who is self-questioning, and with a lot of self-insight. That's not to comment on whether this is something inside you, to do with emotions and psychology, or something outside you, something much harder to understand."

Liam nodded gratefully. I wish I could snog him, thought Carol.

"I feel we have explored the psychological side to this as much as we can, and I am not convinced I am really getting anything there," she continued. "That leaves....other aspects to this...aspects I am not sure I have the experience or knowledge to take on."

There was a pause.

"But I do know someone, someone very good, who I wonder might be able to help. He used to work as a counsellor, but not any more, he moved into IT. He is also something else, on the side, in his own time...he has psychic abilities, I believe, and I know he has investigated all manner of psychic phenomena, although he's not talked much to me about that because I'm a little bit squeamish about some of that stuff."

Carol handed Liam a card. "Sam Greenwood, Psychic Consultant", it read.

Liam did not know what to make of Sam Greenwood when he arrived at Brick House for the first time. A tall, shy, suited black dude in his early 40s, with deep brown eyes, oozing gentleness and compassion. Smolderingly hot as well, Liam thought, lasciviously catching a glimpse of his backside as he came in. That made it all the more difficult in some ways. How to confide to such a sexy guy about something so uncool and uncouth: his late night binges and the associated sexual arousal, feelings of guilt and sense of something unnatural gaining control of him.

"Carol, I understand with your permission, has acquainted me with the details of what has been going on," said Sam in his quiet, sweet-tempered voice.

Ah yes, remembered Liam, I told her she could tell him about me. That saves me the embarrassment of explaining it all myself, then.

"If you do not mind," Sam continued, "I would like to take a short wander around your place by myself, just to pick up on the vibrations. Would you be comfortable with that."

Liam rapidly assented, and let Sam stroll around. This is so utterly wild, Liam thought. What would anyone else think if I told them everything that's going on in my life right now?

"It is as I thought that moment I first came in," Sam reported, coming back into the living room. Two presences. A thin man and a fat man. They cannot experience the pleasures of eating or drinking or sexual pleasures in the way you or I can, but they can experience them indirectly, vicariously as it were, through manipulating and drawing on your energies."

"Wow," said Liam.

"My intuition is telling me to search the loft, particularly the chimney area, above where your fireplace is. Could we go up there?"

"Sure, we can try," said Liam. Actually he had never been up there before.

Opening the loft hatch took quite some effort on Liam's part, and Sam could not help admiring his body as he struggled with it, arms flexing, brow sweating a little, the cutest rounding baby belly jutting out of his top. He longed to run his fingers along it and make some comment, but restrained himself. This is too serious for that, he thought.

Liam ascended the drop-down ladder into the loft, and Sam followed after him. In moments, even before Liam had managed to locate and flick on the lightswitch, Sam seemed to have found what he wanted. A box, right next to the outline in the wall of where the chimney stood. And in that, right at the top, a black and white photo.

"This is it," Sam announced. "This is what I was getting. This is them."

Liam looked at the photo. "They're both slim," he said.

"I know," agreed Liam, "but I just know it, this is them. Maybe the bigger man was slim at the time of the photo, but gained weight later in life. Or maybe he was slim all through his life, but at some level wanted to be a bigger man, and this is why he is appearing to me that way."

Liam pondered what to make of Sam's visit. The man was deep, unlike anyone he had ever met before, make no mistake. And so, so, so goddamned sexy as well, he thought, although that in itself is not relevant here. Sam had been so meek, so quiet, and yet also so incredibly, sexily, self-assured about the task he was undertaking. The moment he came in the place, he said, he knew it was two men, one thin, one fat. Then he got hold of that photo, and knew exactly where to find it. The photo had not matched, it was two slim men. But Sam was not bothered by that, that's them, he'd insisted, so strongly. What to make of this? All so surreal. Was Sam a bluffer, a fake, or could this be the real thing?

Liam spotted Sandra in the neighbouring garden, clasped the black and white photo in his hand and rushed to greet her.

Sandra did not live nextdoor, but it was almost as though she did, she was there so much, as the carer and closest friend of the long-term 92 year old resident there, Denise. Liam had never seen much of Denise, but saw Sandra, a 71 year old lady herself, all the time, and considering the differences in age and background between them, they had struck up an unusually friendly, bantering relationship. Sandra was always fun. And she loved gossip. She knew everything.

"Sandra," said Liam, leaning over the garden fence with the photo, "guess what I found in the loft, I don't suppose you recognise these folks do you?"

Sandra, never one to pass up an opportunity like this, studied the old photo carefully. "Well, well, well!" she said. "I cannot say I recognise them myself, but Denise always talked about two men who used to live in your place. 'The gentlemen', she always used to call them, I wonder if that means they were gay, but I couldn't say for sure. She mentioned they were unusual. I could show this to her and ask her if you like, wouldn't that be interesting?"

Liam agreed to this proposal, eager to learn what would come of it. To his frustration, though, Sandra did not come back to him that evening. Denise had been too sleepy to be troubled, apparently. But the next evening, Sandra rushed to Liam's door, rapping on the door, all excited.

"I was right, I was right, it's them," she said. "Denise told me about them just now. Mr Galbraith and Mr Starr. 'The gentlemen', she calls them, 'always very private', she said. Into 'lots of funny stuff', she said, I think she meant the occult, but she wouldn't say more; I don't think she wanted to speak about it, and maybe she didn't know much about any of that anyway. They lived in your house from the early 1970s, she says, until just some years back. Then she says they 'just disappeared', and she's not heard of them or from them since."

"Were they both always slim, like they were in the photo I showed you?"

"What an odd question," said Sandra, but before she could ponder its oddness further, she dashed back indoors, then returned a few minutes later.

"Yes, Denise says they were both always slim. But here is the interesting thing, she says there were always fat men visiting them. Young fat men, she says."

Liam thanked Denise for her help, exchanged a few more pleasantries, then headed back inside to consider things further. I must get back to Sam, he thought.

"I've been running this again and again through my mind, just like you," Sam told Liam down the phone. "I am so sorry for you, Liam, it's the very last thing you deserve or need, and I know this is putting so much stress on you."

"I really, really appreciate you so much for being here for me," said Liam, "it means so much."

Sam felt his heart melting, but knew he had to stay professional. "What I am going to suggest," he said, "is we do a ritual, to ask these spirits, or entities, or energies or whatever they might be, to depart in peace, to stop bothering you. Is that something you would be comfortable with?"

Liam readily agreed, and within thirty minutes, Liam and Sam were sat together cross-legged in the living room, surrounded by a circle of candles, Sam deep in meditation, intoning commands to whatever it was to leave and to seek healing.

Sam put his arm around Liam's shoulder at the conclusion. "Let's hope this does the trick," he said, "but if there's anything else, you have my number."

As the evening grew later, Liam steeled himself again, as he had for so many nights now, to face the phenomena he knew was waiting for him. Or was it? Sam's ritual must have worked, he thought. This isn't going to happen this time. Think positive. Read a book, watch a film, anything. Act like normal.

Yet it all started again, about 9.30pm, with this uneasy sensation there was something else in his space, and then this overwhelming hunger and horniness, combined together - "horngriness" he sometimes called it.

No, thought Liam, I must resist, I must be strong.

But it was too much, and soon he was gorging himself with cakes, biscuits, slices of bread, chocolates, anything he could find to hand, ravenously shovelling it all into his mouth. His cock was getting warmer, juicier, harder, spasming back and forth without him even touching it, as a plethora of erotic thoughts coasted into his mind. Oh no...oh no...oh no...how could this be? Sam, oh Sam, how can I be thinking of you in this way? This so embarrassing, and so wrong, but so fucking sexy, and oh fuck oh so fucking right! Oh Sam! Oh Sam!

Before Liam knew it, his balls were tingling and tightening and his dick was erupting cum like a fire hose, splashing onto his heaving belly, then shooting as far as his tits, then splattering onto his forehead, and then even onto the bedhead behind him. Fuck. He never used to cum anything like this before. Not since the beginning of...all of this.

"It happened again," Liam told Sam on the phone the next evening. "Don't worry, bud, I've got you," said Sam, and drove round as soon as he could.

Liam told Sam all of the details once he arrived, although leaving out the discomfiting bits about his fantasies for Sam. Sam listened carefully, sympathetically, but when he came to speak, the tone in his voice was firm:

"We will do the ritual again, but this time, and this is deadly important, you must say the words yourself, with me, not just me saying them like last time. We must not only say the words, we must think them, and mean them, absolutely bloody mean them, every word. I don't know how else to say this, Liam, and I know it must sound judgemental or harsh maybe, but when you ask this thing to go away, you must mean it with every ounce of your soul. If there is any part of you, even if it's subconscious, which wants this to continue, you have to reject that, reject it 100 percent. Do you get what I'm saying? When we do the ritual this time, we have to be absolutely telling it to leave, and not even one thousandth of a percent inviting it to say."

Liam considered Sam's words seriously, awkwardly. "I do want and need this to go," he said. "I suppose there could be parts of me which are attached to it, though, I guess. As I told you before, there is this intense sexual excitement element, which I don't understand. Plus it's part of my routine, my habits now. Every evening, about 9.30pm, this starts, y'know...?"

Sam gazed deep into Liam's eyes, put his hands on his shoulders and praised him for having the courage to talk about the challenges, but still warned him in no uncertain terms that unless he could get himself to a place mentally where he could unambiguously and without hesitation ask the presence to go, it would not go.

"You've got this, Liam, you've got this," he encouraged.

"I can do it, let's do it," Liam confirmed, gesturing towards the candles.

Liam lit the candles surrounding them, and began the ritual, this time with both him and Liam intoning the words. When it was finished, the atmosphere in the room somehow felt different, clearer, fresher.

"Thank God, I think we've done it!" exclaimed Liam

"We did, we did it, dude!" congratulated Sam, and they both laughed and started to relax. Liam went to the fridge and came back with some beers, and they started to chat, about themselves, about all sorts of stuff. It was the first proper conversation they had had which had nothing to do with the strange goings-on. Their inhibitions slipped, they talked about previous partners and dates, they talked about the latest television shows and films, and which celebrities they fancied. They felt more and more drawn to each other, flirting with each other with little smiles and taps on the arm or legs or knee.

Then something kicked in with Sam. I am meant to be here to support this guy, to help him with a problem, I can't get too close, I've got to stay focused, he thought. So he made his excuses and cut the evening short, to Liam's pained disappointment.

Less than 90 minutes later, Sam saw his mobile phone vibrating: it was Liam.

"Sam, I'm really, really sorry to do this and this is so embarrassing...but I don't know what to stay...that feeling, the presence...it's starting again."

Sam felt a rush of adrenaline, but kept his voice steady and calm. "It's okay, Liam, I've got you man, I'll be there soon as I can."

"We will do the ritual again," said Sam as he came in the door of Brick House, immediately rushing to the living room to start positioning the candles in a circle again, just like before. "You know I hate to be a bitch, but I've got to say this again: if there is any part of you that does not want this to stop, or is not sure you want this to stop, you've got to mentally chuck that out right now. We have got to have 1000% focus here. When we do the ritual, when we intone the words, we have to be thoroughly and unreservedly telling this thing to fuck right off, to fuck right out and then some, and leave you in peace. Are you getting me?"

"I know, I know," said Liam, then became emotional, tears streaming down his eyes. "I am so sorry, Sam, I'm so sorry, I'm trying but...it's not working!"

Sam embraced Liam, holding him tight, stroking his cheeks and wiping his tears with his fingers. "It's okay, Liam, it's okay. However long this takes, whatever we have to go through to sort it, I'm with you, every step of the way. Now look, do you want to talk through this? Could be better to do that before we start."

"Sam, I know this is so rotten of me and so stupid...I don't know how to say it."

"Hey, you can tell me anything, man," said Sam, clasping Liam's hands in his own.

"I think this thing is more of a hook, more addictive than I thought. The base pleasure of it, I mean, the food, the drink, the horniness - you would not fucking believe the orgasms."

"That's okay, that's okay..."

"And there is more than that."

"What?"

"It's you, Sam, I don't know how else to say it. There is a part of me that doesn't want this to end because I don't want you and me to end. I don't want to lose you, Sam. Now I know that's so unfair on you, so if you want to walk out that door..."

Sam held Liam firmly, tightly, and their faces pressed together, noses rubbing, lips touching. Then Sam stood back.

"Do you know, I owe you a confession," Sam said quietly. "I should have seen this earlier, but somehow I didn't, or I didn't want to, I don't know. But I've been exactly the same. I've been intoning this damned ritual, asking this thing to end, when all the time, in my heart, I'm not wanting it to end, because I'm not wanting my experience with you to be over. I've let you down, Liam. I'm sorry. You're deserving of better. If it hadn't been for me, I wonder if this might all have been over for you now."

They both began to cry, and hug, and for a while, kiss. Then Sam again turned to Liam with a serious face.

"This time we do the ritual, and we really mean it to go. We got it?"

"We got it," confirmed Liam, and Sam lit up all the candles, and they both intoned the mantra, asking, insisting, demanding the presence leave.

"I command these forces of gluttony and sexual stimulation and licentiousness to begone!" Sam whispered, at the conclusion of the ceremony, then turned to Liam.

"...but not yet," he finished, a look of frenzy in his face, and pulled Liam's top off, kissing his face passionately and uncontrollably, hands sprawling everywhere across Liam's body, devouring his luscious thicc build, fingers lingering on and plunging into the newly softened areas, his member pressing ever more vigorously against Liam's thigh, until before they knew it, they were rolling around ontop of and underneath each other, the lit candles surrounding them, totally forgetting the task they had come here to complete. The rest of the evening passed in a haze, and neither could remember all of it afterwards, except they had both stuffed themselves royally with everything they could find in the fridge and the cupboard, and they both orgasmed more times and more intensely than they had ever done before.

There was one detail, though, which Liam did remember vividly, and would never forget for the rest of his life. It was the moment before he lost consciousness and fell asleep. A glance at the bedroom mirror, the sight of Sam on top of him, ejaculating into him, and himself unleashing a cum fountain onto the sheets only moments later. Except the sight staring back at him was not himself and Sam, but two other men, two elderly men. The Mr Galbraith and Mr Starr from the old black and white photo. It was only a moment, a second or less, but he could swear it, he knew it.

When they awoke the next morning, there was not much time to discuss things as they both had work to go to, but Liam did raise the experience with the mirror, and saw Sam's alarmed expression when he told him.

"That mirror, it's a leverage, a power centre," Sam muttered agitatedly.

"What do you mean?" asked Liam.

Without even replying, Sam rushed to the mirror, took it off the wall and started running his hands along the back of it, peeling back parts of the cardboard backing.

"Hey, what're you doing?" demanded Liam.

"Here," said Sam, handing Liam the mirror.

Liam took the mirror from Sam and saw Sam was holding an old black and white photograph in his hand.

Mr Galbraith and Mr Starr, sat in the living room of Brick House, surrounded by a party of young chubby men.

"Don't be frightened, Liam," said Sam. "It's neutralised now, won't bother you again," he added, gesturing a sign of the cross over the photo. "Forget it now."

Over the next weeks, Liam and Sam drew closer and closer, until Sam had practically moved into Liam's place. Every evening, around 9.30pm, the same pattern would repeat itself, with them both becoming supremely hungry and horny, and they would stuff themselves and make out with each other all evening and all night, before collapsing in post-orgasmic stupor, waking in the morning with only vague reflections of the night before. They talked less and less about this as though it was a problem or in any way a supernatural occurrence. It was just something they tacitly accepted, as part of their lives, something they enjoyed, something they did in the evenings, like others watch Netflix or play cards.

Then one day something happened that shook Liam up and reawakened the fears he was having previously. He spotted a really good looking guy visiting nextdoor, and could not help but be nosey and ask Sandra who it was.

"Oh, that's Julian," she said. "He used to live in your place, before you arrived. Now let me tell you the strangest thing. When he arrived, he was really slim, just like he is now. While he was here, he got really big, you know."

"Big?" asked Liam.

"Just like you and your fellow," she replied, and Liam simulated a laugh, although he was feeling freaked. They often joked about each other's weight. So she means fat, thought Liam.

"And now he's returned to visit Denise, because they were friendly - there is some family connection between them although I can't remember what it is now."

"Is Julian still around?" asked Liam.

"No, only a brief visit, he's gone off to the other end of the country now," said Sandra. "But don't let that stop you chasing him, if you want me to get his number," she joked, and they both giggled again.

When Liam spoke to Sam later that day, he told him about Julian, and how Julian had apparently piled on weight whilst living at Brick House, then lost it after leaving.

"It's making me think about everything again," said Liam, "how weird it is, I have this feeling something's not right here."

"But think about it, Liam," protested Sam. "All that's happened is a guy we don't even know gained weight, then lost weight. I mean, that sort of thing happens all the time. You're safe with me, completely safe, nothing can hurt you, nothing has hurt or harmed you, after all. Nothing. You know that, right? Any problem here is just in our heads."

The conversation went back and forth, culminating in them both agreeing they would consult a friend of Sam's called Denzel, who Sam said was "very experienced, more experienced than me in all this sort of stuff."

Denzel came round to visit, a charming, precise, well-educated, well-spoken man with a clipped voice, carrying a briefcase and wearing a suit. Liam noticed how he and Sam seemed immediately comfortable with each other and to know each other well. Sam would later tell him about how they had both worked at an office together, and been the joint victim of a troublemaking colleague who resented black guys succeeding more than he did.

"Now this is how I see it," said Denzel after Liam and Sam had told him everything. "This is whatever you want it to be. If you are two guys being terrorised by spirits, it's that. If you are two guys in love, enjoying a harmless little private fetish, it's that. Choose."

"But how can we?" protested Liam. "I mean, if it's spirits, if it's the dark side, how can we change that?"

"By not fretting about it, by not fretting about it," replied Denzel. "I don't know that any of this is supernatural. But what I am telling you is that if it is, it is being caused by the angst, the conflict, the guilt-tripping you are putting on yourself. There aint no ghosts here, I can tell you that for absolute certain. If there was, I would sense it, see it. What there might be here is energies, phenomena coming out of your own pain, your own inner conflict. Now that I see all the time, not uncommon. I guarantee you though you aint got no ghosts, no human souls here."

"Thank you," said Sam. "You've given us a lot to think about."

"God bless you my friends," said Denzel, adding "And I must say you boys are looking mighty healthy", as he gently poked each of their bellies and smiled.

After Denzel left, Liam and Sam discussed things further.

"I have faith in Denzel," said Sam. "Yeah he's an odd guy, but when it comes to the other side, he's the best in the business. If he says there are no ghosts or spirits here, I believe him. He says if there is anything going on, it's only coming from our anxiety, so if we cut out the anxiety, it's gone."

"When you say 'our anxiety', you mean my anxiety, right? So it's all my fault?"

"No, no, no Liam," said Sam, holding his face close to his, "none of this is your fault at all, it's just one of those things, and I can tell you for a fact Denzel is right, this stuff is far more common than most people would think, normal practically."

They talked on and on, and Liam's sense of unease began to dissipate. Why fret and worry when we can just live our lives and have fun? he thought. Besides, life has never been more awesome, what with having Sam here, and the delights of late night snacks, and the unbelievably incredible breathless multiorgasmic sex every night.

The next months were more blissful than any Liam and Sam had experienced before. Their waistlines blew up, their tits ballooned, their asses and thighs swelled, and many of their gay friends looked askance about them, but they didn't care - well they more than didn't care, they loved it, they gloried in it, every little achievement, every little delicious humiliation. There came a day, though, when their anxieties, and especially Liam's, would come to the surface again.

Liam had left his key at home and locked himself out, leaving him to wait another hour until Sam's arrival. So he went over nextdoor, to pass the time. This was one of the rarer occasions when he got to meet Denise, the elderly lady resident, for himself, although Sandra was also there, bubbly as ever and chatting away.

For most of the visit, Denise remained silent, nodding away in the chair, but listening appreciatively and smiling or giving occasional glances of acknowledgement. Then, out of nowhere, she sat up straight in her chair, and began to talk:

"Mr Galbraith and Mr Starr came to visit me yesterday afternoon. It was so lovely and they were so funny."

"Don't be daft, Denise," waded in Sandra. "I was here all afternoon yesterday; they can't have been here at all."

"Oh, they did, they did, while you were in the kitchen, dear," continued Denise.

Sandra gave Liam a look, signalling her scepticism about what Denise was saying.

"They are both in a care home now, living together. Very limited mobility now, poor dears. They were telling me how they get to float around all night and all day, go to all sorts of places, to places they know, to places they don't know, all over the world. All these interesting people they are getting to see, to meet..."

And then, Denise seemed to be somewhere else, her eyes closing.

"Poor dear," Sandra whispered to Liam. "I think it's those tablets."

When Liam got to see Sam later that evening, he told him about what Denise had said.

"I suppose there are possibilities here," reflected Sam. "Could it be that these two elderly men, bored and maybe confused in their care home, are astral travelling around, causing weird stuff to happen, seeking out chaps to make plump? I don't know. I will think about it more and have a chat with Denzel."

"Don't you find it scary, Sam? What if these are fat fetishists, feeders or whatever we call them, doing stuff to guys to make them like this," he said, running his hands along his lover's now ample paunch.

"Do we really care?" asked Sam, and they both looked at each other, and started laughing.

"It's like what I said to you at the beginning, and what Denzel also explained to us. We have a choice here. If this is supernatural, and we want it to stop, all we gotta do is ask it to stop, properly ask it to stop, and it will stop. If it's doing no harm, if it's not bothering us, no need to worry."

About a week later, Sandra knocked on the door. "Denise is going on about the gentlemen again," she told Liam. "I said I'd ask if you could show her the photo again, as she'd really like to see it once more. Is that okay?"

"No problem," said Liam. "In actual fact, we found one other photo, so there are two photos with them in now," Liam added, remembering the photo Sam found behind the bedroom mirror. "Do you know what, tell Denise she can have them if she likes. She knew those people after all, and I expect they meant more to her than anything they do to us."

"Oh, that's so, so lovely of you, dear!" said Sandra. Liam retrieved and handed over the photos, with a sense of relief, hoping never to see them again.

Later that evening, Denise awoke from her nap, and Sandra pressed the two black and white photos into her lap.

"That's them, that's them, it's like yesterday!" said Denise, looking at the first photo, of Mr Galbraith and Mr Starr together.

"Yes, that's what you said when you saw that the first time," said Sandra.

"And this is them again, with their big young men," she said, turning to the second photo and chortling softly.

"Do you recognise any of them?"

"Yes, yes," said Denise. "That nice Liam and Sam from nextdoor, they're in here."

She's confused again, thought Sandra. That photo must be from the 1970s, before Liam and Sam were even born.

"They all look so happy together," said Denise.

"Yes, I'm sure they do."

"Those four all together, so nice, don't you think?"

"Yes, very lovely," said Sandra.

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gainer story #gay gainer #male weight gain

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muuurder · 2 years ago

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Finally, someone who doesn’t baby Brahms all the time! I literally got giggly with your headcanons bc I think the same for him as well. A lot of people keep watering down his character as the “man baby who can’t cook, clean himself, or do this or that” and it’s kinda frustrating to see others not understanding his character more when writing about him, especially since there’s evidence he’s capable of a lot of things. I actually find it quite funny when people draw Brahms that way however when it comes to writing him… Anyways, I would love to hear more of your headcanons! It fills my hyperfixation on him (as there’s literally only 1-2 posts each day for Brahms).

Also if you don’t mind, you can skip this part if you want, what do you think about the theory of Brahms parents starting the fire in order to cover up what Brahms did? I’m staying on neutral ground for this but I do think it’s an interesting theory.

It’s funny you mention that theory 👀

So for me personally I don’t exactly think it was to cover it up, but I do think they started it. Personally, I retcon everything that is the boy 2 (though I loved the main character child who was mute. He did amazing but I think it was shit writing and a cop out because the actor who played brahms pulled out and for good reason too.) so without acknowledging the second movie here’s my personal take. I am currently a psych student (and while I am very much not an expert like I can’t stress it enough I’ve got Swiss cheese brain,) and from what little I’ve learned usually children who were at brahms age (8 years old) aren’t exactly capable of processing death. Obviously it varies case to case but on an overall scale, he’s not able to comprehend it. I personally think Emily cripps death was an accident. Maybe they went to play in the woods rough houses and she fell cracking her skull open. Or maybe she was picking at him (cause honestly emily looks older than brahms. Grant it girls tend to grow taller first compared to boys, but overall she looks like she’s 10.) and I personally think brahms has autism and/or bpd (I touched on it In another ask I did you might have to sift through my blog. Sorry it’s a chaotic enigma of everything I love lol.) but I think he might have been forced to hang around her for family ties and potential future relations (arranged marriages etc etc.) this was inspired a bit by a fic I read though I forget the name of it. If I find it I’ll post it. But I think he might not have enjoyed being around her as much as Everyone believed. His father describes him even at a young age as “odd” which to me feels like they had a son late in life and he wasn’t neurotypical. He is less sociable, doesn’t fit into their rich lavish life and fit the perfect image they have. So I think there was already resentment a little? So imagine their reaction if Emily was playing and picking at him, maybe he pushed her and she fell. After all her head was cracked open. If she fell and rolled off the rocks she hit it could look the same. A lot of Emily’s death is rumor and gossip in the town. Imagine brahms nudging her thinking she just fell asleep but she’s not moving. He gets freaked and runs back fussing she won’t wake up and she’s being mean. Alarm bells are going off for his parents. I think they didn’t like their son because they clearly hated it he deviated. They were strict, had a specific image and didn’t make much room for change that was clear as hell in how they treated greta and brahms if I’m honest. And I think it’s fucking weird his parents deadass didn’t tell anyone and participated and hosted a search party for a girl they likely knew was dead. I think they were more worried about how this would look and instead of getting their son help even if it was intentional (though again that’s still on them because they fucked up somewhere in parenting, though again I believe it was purely accidental) and with this new situation coupled with previous resentment over their son not being normal (aka I Headcanon his parents are ableist) they had their son wait somewhere. Locked him in, and didn’t realize he knew the walls because he explored in his free time. And they set it on fire before the police could show up to question the young boy. (Because btw he wouldn’t have been tried as an adult. He’s too young and again can’t even conceptualize death let alone fucking fake it like ???? That was his parents.) and I think they had no fucking clue he was alive until they heard him calling from in the walls now with burns. And even the. They didn’t get him medical attention they stuffed him in the walls and pretended he wasn’t there as he grew. They gave themselves a do over because they felt they fucked up and that’s why their son was how he was. Their love was and has always been fucking conditional. That’s my personal take of a theory.

As far as a Headcanon, I’m reaching a text limit so have this one: he about cried the first time he had a fresh meal out of the walls. Potatoes just aren’t the same after their frozen and he simply can’t go back. He loves hot home cooking (pair that with southern cooking he’s inlove lol)

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polonium-snap · 3 years ago

Text

The Beauty & the Deku chp. 2

Summary: Izuku and Katsuki somehow get trapped in a book of fairy tales, to get out of it they decide to play their part in the stories. How far are they willing to go to fulfill the romantic plotlines? Will Katsuki be able to play the role of a fairy tale princess?

ao3

Wattpad

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When Katsuki comes to, he is washing some stairs.”Wha-? This again? You’ve got to be forking kidding me.” He stood up, inspecting his clothes, some raggedy top, and pants, which at least is not a dress, and went to a nearby well, staring at his reflection on the water, scowling.

“Kacchan?” He heard Deku’s voice from behind, and the blonde turned to him.

“Deku!” Katsuki said. “As you can see, we are still trapped in this nightmare.” He frowns. “What do we do now?”

“Let’s continue trying to go along with the story, maybe if we do it enough times, we’ll get out of here.” Izuku suggested.

Katsuki growled. “Shut up! What do you know? This is probably your fault since you didn’t have to be at the house in the end.”

Deku frowned. “Oh yeah, Cinderella totally broke through a door like you did.”

The blonde scowled back, blustering and turning to look away from Izuku. “Whatever.”

Which was Kacchan-speak for ‘I’m sorry, you’re right', good thing Deku was an expert at reading his childhood friend. “We should continue trying to go along with the story, this time as much as we can with the original.”

“No way, nerd. I already gave that a try and we are still trapped in this hellhole.” Katsuki argued. “It makes more sense to try and make the story different, if it doesn’t let us move on we can find the reason more easily.”

“What if that just makes us be stuck here forever, Kacchan?” Izuku argued back. “Let’s do it like the story says one more time, then if we are still here we’ll try your thing.”

The blonde frowned but sighed. “Fine.”

Izuku let out the breath he was holding and stared into red eyes. “Thank you.”

Silence hung heavy for a second between them for several seconds. “I’m sorry…” Bakugou mutters, surprising Deku. “You know, for kissing you at the end…”

Izuku blushed furiously. “Oh! Uhm, i-i-it’s ok Kacchan, that actually made us move on, so…”

The implication of the previous statement weighs on them, and the silence only makes heat rise faster and more intensely into Deku’s face. If the kiss was what made them move on, did that mean they would have to again until they were out of there?

The most obvious answer was there, if they were in Snow White, like Izuku suspected, that meant they had to kiss to be able to continue with the story.

“Wh-What story are we in anyway?” Katsuki asked if only to fill the silence.

“O-oh, I think we are in Snow White.” Izuku reasoned.

“How are we meeting so early then, isn’t the prince supposed to kiss snow white at the end?” The blonde tried to remember.

“No, I think they met right at the start of the Disney movie.” Izuku explained.

“Crap I can’t remember.” The taller teen rubbed his hand on his face. “How am I going to go along with the story if I can't remember how it goes?”

The green-haired boy bit his lip, he couldn’t blame Kacchan, apart from this being a stressful situation, it has been a long time since either of them either saw the movies or read any books with fairy tales on them. “I think I know how it goes, just make sure to go near the forest and run away from the huntsman and look for a small house, it belongs to some dwarfs.” He explains. “Make sure they let you stay, cook and clean for them or something, the evil queen will look for you, to kill you, she will give you an apple, bite it, I’ll take care of the rest and then we’ll ride off to the sunset.”

“My prince.” Katsuki said sarcastically, and Izuku glared, but his cheeks felt hot. “I got it, I got it, I’m just tired of cleaning stuff, like I knew old men hate women in these stories and think their only use is to cook and clean, I get it, old news, but it’s annoying as heck, you know?”

“I get it Kacchan, I’m sorry, but I really think that we can get out if we follow the script as much as we can.”

“Yeah, except we can barely remember how it goes, you lame nerd, even just talking like this can change the story.” The fiery teen started to raise his tone. “We’re already doomed.”

Izuku cringed. “You’re right, but there must be plot points that make us move on, you know like in Cinderella, the background repeated until we did what it wanted, to move on we need to keep doing just that.” He tried to placate the other man. “This is the best plan we have right now, just go with it until we can think of something better.”

Katsuki stands staring at the other teen for a few seconds, glaring, but pondering what was said all the same. “Fine, but we better get out of this, or I’m going to explode.” He turned away and started walking toward the palace. “See you later, nerd, don’t you dare die.” He closed the doors, leaving Izuku staring.

The wardrobes the stories were putting the blonde in were killing him, he looked so handsome, even in dresses. Now the blonde wasn’t exactly wearing a dress, but elements of it were clearly borrowed, Kacchan was in rags but still looked amazing.

Izuku shook his head, this was not the time to be fawning over Kacchan, he turned around and left the grounds of the palace, unsure of what to do with himself. Jesus, fairy tale princes really were useless and had one shitty line, like Kacchan had said, though maybe like this, he could look for clues.

He looked down and sighed, even his clothes were boring.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

Katsuki changes his clothes because he is not staying in some ugly rags, besides he is 70% sure Snow White wasn’t dressed so badly, she needs to be marketable, little kids wouldn't buy merch of her if she looked ugly right?

He went near the forest, as Deku had said, and sat on a rock, at least the scenery was always interesting in these stories, as Katsuki had never gone out of Japan, he could almost pretend he was visiting Europe or some shit.

“I’m sorry, princess.” Said a voice, which startled the fuck out of the blonde.

“Jesus fu-!” Katsuki turned around to find Rikido Sato, from his class. “Sato?! You are the huntsman?”

The other man’s eyes widened. “You know my name?!” His eyes watered. “The queen has never called me by my name.”

Katsuki hadn’t either until just then, but he wasn’t about to say that to a man with a weapon while he remained quirkless. “Yes, of course I know your name!” He lied, he was lucky with Sato’s last name, he was between Sato and Sota. “I’m going to be the next ruler of this kingdom, and you my loyal subject.” He was talking out of his ass. “How could I not know your name?”

Sato dropped the knife. “I can’t do it!” He cried. “The queen is trying to kill you, your best option is to run as far as you can and hope she never finds you!”

Katsuki stood up from the ground and scrubbed the dirt off his clothes. “Right, thank you, I guess, for not killing me or whatever.” He jogged into the forest, enjoying it more than he normally would, maybe because it had been a while since he had been able to make one of his mornings runs.

At some point, his foot got tangled on some tree roots and he came crashing to the ground. “Argh!” He exclaimed. “Dumb tree, dumb story, dumb Deku!” He raged, and sat on the ground, finding the cabin could wait. As he lay on the ground feeling sorry for himself he felt small tweets from above, and slowly, animals from the forest came out and stared at him.

The blonde groaned. “One of you better not be Dunce face or Hair for brains.” He couldn’t take any more woodland animals as his friends, although thankfully it seemed none of them was anyone he knew. “What are you doing here then, If not to torture me?”

All the animals started to walk toward somewhere, and Katsuki, having nothing better to do went with them, only to find the small house Deku talked about. He opened the door, finding the insides absolutely filthy. And as much as Katsuki had complained he disliked cleaning, he disliked even more letting it stay filthy.

‘Fucking fine’ He thought because only in his mind he could use his favorite words. “You win, stupid Deku, I’ll clean this pigsty.” Katsuki picked up a broom and started sweeping the comical amounts of dust and dirt, the animals around him started to do the same, and for the first time, he didn’t mind the small woodland animals that seemed to follow him lately.

When he finally finished he realized how tired he was, it had been a few days since he last slept, so maybe now he could take a nap. Bakugou climbed the stairs, peering at the small beds with the dwarf's names, he pushed some of them together so he could fit in and dropped like a log on them, paying no mind to the few small animals that cuddled him, he was too tired for that shit.

He closed his eyes and lost consciousness.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

“What is that? Is it a ghost?” Said a fearful but familiar voice.

“Ha! There’s no such thing as a ghost.” An angrier voice said.

“Who cares, ghosts can’t touch you, let’s just sleep and be done with it.” Said another voice that sounded just like Aizawa.

With his sleep finally disrupted Katsuki decided to sit up and fuck up anyone who dared wake him. When he rose from the bed, multiple gasps were heard. “What is it now?” He said, the blanket still over his head, which he removed slowly.

When he finally could see, he found seven eerily familiar dwarfs looking at him and gasping once again.

“Prince!” One of them exclaimed. “What are you doing here, young prince?”

Holy shit, this dwarf was All Might. Katsuki gaped at the blonde dwarf, his face a picture of the man’s old glory.

The teen looked at the others, Aizawa, Present Mic, Koda, Kirishima, Kaminari...and Endeavour?!

“Let me guess, you,” Bakugou pointed at Aizawa. “Are sleepy, you,” Present Mic, who let out a very loud sneeze. “Are Sneezy, you,” Koda blushed. “Bashful.” Then Kirishima. “You are Happy, I guess.” Kaminari. “Dunce face, you are obviously Dopy.” Bakugou laughed. “This must be Todoroki’s old man, Endeavour.” The red-haired dwarf fumed. “That leaves you All Might, I guess you are Doc.”

All Might smiled. “Yes, young prince.” He eyed Katsuki as if searching for answers. “What brings you here?”

“Yeah, that, the queen is trying to kill me or something.” The younger man dismissed carelessly.

“The queen is trying to kill you?!” Several of the small men exclaimed.

“Yes, so let me hide here, I’ll cook and clean, or something.” Katsuki forced himself to say.

“Like we would let a stranger stay here in our h-” Endeavour started to say.

“Of course you can stay, my boy!” All Might said. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah!” Kirishima, Kaminari, and Present Mic said, Koda blushed, and Aizawa grunted his approval from where he slept.

Endeavour growled.

The next day, after making the seven nuisances breakfast and them lining up at the door to go to the mine, Kirishima took of his stupid hat and watched Katsuki expectantly.

“What do you want.” The blonde said, but he had started to piece what hair for brains was silently asking, the redhead wanted a kiss on his forehead, Bakugou fumed, missing the cracking sound of his quirk. The thing was Snow White obviously did so in the movie, and if he wanted to be truthful with what he promised Deku, he had to kiss the foreheads of these dumbasses and thank god they wouldn’t remember, or at least he hoped so.

He reluctantly kissed Kirishima’s forehead, cringing when the dwarf continued in his way. It didn’t take long for the rest of the short men to follow suit.

Kaminari laughed and thanked him with a teasing smile. Katsuki struggled not to punch with his bare hands. Koda, bless him, just blushed and continued on his way, Aizawa grunted, Present Mic whooped in happiness, and All Might thanked him.

Lastly, there was Endeavour, who Katsuki categorically and morally opposed kissing, as much as he hated the half-and-half bastard his old man was trash and he wasn’t about to ignore that. But he had made a promise to stupid Deku who was probably living it large somewhere as a prince.

Katsuki swallowed his pride if only because he was a man of his word.

He slowly bent to press his lips on Endeavour's dwarfed forehead, closing his eyes to avoid extra trauma, and gave him a lightning-quick kiss.

“It’s not like I wanted you to, brat!” What the fuck? Was Endeavour a tsundere?

Bakugou would never be able to look at the number one hero ever again.

While Katsuki baked a pie in the old-fashioned oven he heard some commotion on the outside. Bristling Katsiki let go of the hot pie and peeked through the window, only to see Shigaraki dressed in black rags and carrying a basket of apples.

Holy fuck, Shigaraki was the queen?!

Katsuki couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. “You?! Your crusty musty ass is the queen? HAHHAHA” He was nearly crying, Shigaraki looked worse than normal, and that was so hard to do in the blonde’s mind that he had to give the man kudos for surpassing himself.

“W-what? No, I’m no old queen, just an old man offering such beauty an apple.” Shigaraki stuttered, quickly jumping into convincing the teen into taking the blood-red apple in his ugly hands.

Katsuki wiped his tears of laughter. “I’m just, haha, sorry, It’s just been an annoying day.” He explained. “But alright, since you made me laugh so much I’ll take the apple, thank you for the few hours of peace, while that stupid Deku makes it here.” The blonde bit the apple, promptly falling asleep as he heard Shigaraki’s pathetic laugh.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

Izuku panted as he followed the forest’s animals toward the dwarf's house, where he knew Katsuki was waiting for him, the queen, whoever they were, was probably already chased off a cliff and Kacchan was placed in a crystal case.

He arrived at a clearing, watching as the dwarfs mourned Katsuki’s apparent death.

Wait. Was that Endeavour?! No. No, no time for that, literally everyone they knew was becoming a supporting character in these stories, it was entirely possible Endeavour was too.

...Was he supposed to be grumpy?

Izuku shook his head away from those thoughts and focused on Katsuki’s relaxed face as he slept and the dwarfs took away the glass casing on top of the snoozing blonde. Deku had always wondered why on earth the dwarfs just took off the case for some random prince to kiss the princess? What if it was just some creep? Though he had heard the age of the actual prince was 31, while Snow White was 14, which, what the hell.

Anyways he was getting sidetracked, maybe due to the nerves of having to kiss Kacchan, and the intense gazes the dwarfs were sending the green-eyes teen. He gulped, approaching the other man’s face, suddenly feeling very hot. It's not like they hadn’t kissed before, just two days ago Kacchan had kissed him, and there was always that one time they were 4 and wanted to know what kissing felt like.

However, both times it had been Katsuki who had initiated, not Izuku, Deku had never been the one to kiss someone, and the fact they were not conscious was really bothering him. It was morally incorrect to kiss someone who was unconscious, even if he somewhat knew Katsuki would be ok with it.

He felt dirty, like a 31-year-old prince kissing a 14-year-old girl, well maybe not that dirty.

But still, he did not feel great about this.

Finally, as his lips were millimeters away from Bakugou’s, Deku avoided the pink plump lips of his classmate and kissed the other’s cheek swiftly and reeled back. Katsuki’s eyes remained closed for dreadful long seconds, until red eyes fluttered open, sleepily batting long blonde eyelashes at Izuku.

“Took you long enough, nerd.” Katsuki complained as Deku offered him a hand and a taller teen rose from the adorned crystal bed.

“Sorry Kacchan.” Izuku said, relieved that the kiss on the cheek was enough to wake the other up. “Let’s go?”

Katsuki blinked. “Oh, yeah, you said we now ride into the sunset.”

“I-I mean, y-yeah, that’s how I remember it ended.” Izuku stuttered.

“Thank god.” Katsuki launches himself at Izuku's horse, waving at the dwarfs and animals as Izuku himself mounts it.

“Are you ready?” Izuku said, feeling like he forgot something.

“Yes.” The blonde rushed, a fake smile plastered on his face as he waved. “Let’s go you stupid piece of crap.”

“Right.” Izuku instructs the horse to start moving toward the horizon where a large range of beautiful reds and oranges paint the sky.

“Thank you for nothing!” Katsuki waves again, this time his smile is more genuine as he does a pg version of his usual cursing at the dwarfs and animals that probably don’t hear him due to the distance. “Hope you trip on your horrendous beards and die!”

The green-haired teen sweat drops as Bakugou finally settles down.

That is until he notices the horizon only seems to get further away. “No! Look, we aren’t moving on!”

Deku has to agree, as he notes his surroundings, while the background isn’t repeating, there seems to be no end to the valley even as seconds turn into several minutes. Well, if it isn’t the consequences of my actions, Izuku thought as he meditated the best way to confess why they may be unable to finish the story.

“Darn it!” Katsuki growled in frustration. “I swear I did everything you told me.” He tried to explain. “I even kissed Endeavour’s old geezer head.”

“I know, Kacchan.” Izuku reassured, gulping as he realized he needed to come clean. “It is my fault.” He confessed.

“What?”

“So you know ten minutes ago when I was supposed to kiss you and wake you up from the sleeping curse?”

“Yes…?” Katsuki nodded. “What’s your point?”

“I may or may not have kissed your cheek instead of kissing you in the lips like in the traditional story.” He said sheepishly. “...Sorry...?

Katsuki slowly turns to look at the dumbass he called childhood friend. “What did you just say?”

“...I’m...sorry?” Izuku’s voice got weaker.

“What on earth is your problem?!” Katsuki bellowed, his eyes glowing red. “You SAID that we needed to follow the story to get out, you made me PROMISE I would go along with it just this once.”

The other man cringed. “I know, I know.” He whined. “I’m sorry, it’s just when I had to kiss you, you were unconscious and it just felt wrong since you never explicitly agreed that I could kiss you.”

“It was implied that I wanted to kiss you!” Katsuki yelled and then blushed, Izuku did too. “I mean, it was implied I was ok with it, you bumbling buffoon!” He screeched.

“Buffoon...?” Izuku mumbled as he stared in surprise at red embarrassed eyes.

“Ughhh!” Katsuki said in frustration. “Being this mad without using my quirk is making me lame.” He explained to himself, he took the reins of the still moving horse and yanked it so it stopped. Then he threw his legs over the animal so Bakugou was fully facing Deku. “Let’s just kiss so maybe this can be over, you piece of garbage.”

Katsuki pulled Izuku roughly so their noses were touching. “Don’t think for a second I’m not going to kick your ass into the next century after we get back to UA.”

Before Izuku could respond, their lips smashed together, harder and deeper than necessary, all while he was vaguely aware the world started to crumble and fade into white once again.

#izuku x bakugo #bakudeku fan fiction #bakudeku art #bakudeku #katsudeku #katsuki x izuku #the beauty and the deku

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peonysink · 3 years ago

Text

The Nicest Boy in the Galaxy

Part III

Part II here

Part I here

Warning: Explicit, 18 +

Note: More lovely moments with Echo, as you woke up in his arms. Later you spend an incredible night toghether back at your place. This is where the smut happens :)

Also, Echo deserves the world!

You woke up to the sound of faint voices. You opened your eyes, and it took you a second to figure out where you were. That usually happened when you slept well, and this was one of those nights. The first thing you saw was Echo’s big smiling eyes. Your body was still entangled with his, your head on his shoulder, his arm around you, and your leg resting on his his.

“Good morning” - he whispered in your ear, his raspy voice sending electricity through your whole body. His eyes were rested and his whole face looked more relaxed than before.

“Good morning”, you said. “This is a nice way to wake up”

As soon as you said that you remembered all the other soldiers that were sleeping in the same room, and you quickly lifted your head to see if they were still there.

“Don’t worry, they’re up. They’ve been for a while’ - Echo read your mind.

“They must have had hundred questions for you this morning”

Echo smiled.

‘I’m sure Hunter will explain them who you are. Not sure he’ll explain how you ended up in my bed"

“Oh” - you replied.

“Don't worry, no one will be reaching any conclusions. They know me well enough to... they know I’m not like that” - Echo said, and once again confirmed your gut feeling you had from the moment you met him that there was something incredibly pure and sweet about him.

“I’m not worried” - you smiled, and put your head back on his chest. “I’m good. This feels good. I could stay this way forever” - you said and threw your arm across his chest and hugged him tight. “But I guess we should move, shouldn't we? - you asked him.

"Not yet" - he replied and kissed your forehead. "A few more minutes.”

You tugged closer to him, and once again threw you leg across his. He felt how comfortable and relaxed you were.

“Emma” - he said in a more serious tone.

“Yes?” - You replied not moving.

"I’m sorry about last night. I feel like i owe you an explanation…”

"No, you don’t Echo, it’s okay…”

"I know, but I want to tell you… " - Echo insisted.

You lifted your head slightly and looked at him:

"Okay, I’m here, I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath and hesitated for a moment.

"I lost my legs and my arm in a blast in a mission at the Citadel, few years ago. It was a rescue action, and we were saving a jedi master and his men caught by the separatists. The blast knocked me out, and my squad thought I was dead and they had to move on, but I survived and I was kidnapped by the separatists. For a long time I was unconscious, kept in a stasis chamber - they tried to take my humanity and turn me into a machine. They hooked my brain to a computer and scanned it constantly to get access to everything I knew about the military tactics and strategies. They used that information to defeat the Republic forces in numerous battles…"

Echo’s voice almost broke as he said the last sentence. You could hear that this was something that wasn't easy for him to talk about and that he was still coming to grips with it. He unconsciously contributed to his forces’ defeat - that was a lot of weight to carry on one's shoulders.

"I was helpless like that... a vegetable hooked to a machine, until I was rescued by my captain. And these guys."

He pointed his head towards the voices you could hear at the other end of the ship.

"This squad saved you?" - you asked.

He nodded.

“I owe everything to them.” Echo said. "I’d still be trapped in that place, given that no one knew I was alive. But Rex, my captain, never gave up on me. He came back for me in what was almost a suicide mission. And suicide missions are the bad batch's speciality” - he smiled.

"Bad batch?" - you asked.

"That’s the name of our squad. That’s what they call themselves, anyway. The four of them are defective clones, with desirable mutations. That’s why they look different from other clones.”

"That’s amazing” - you replied, your eyes wide. "I had no idea clones could have different mutations like that.”

"Not many do. They are unique.”

"Well then you fit very well in this squad” - you said and lifted your head more to look him closer in the eyes.

Echos eyes were warm and you could feel his arm pull you closer.

You felt incredibly privileged that he shared all of this with you and you wanted him to know. You put your hand on his cheek and you felt him melt into it. He moved your head closer to his and you kissed him. His lips were soft and gentle, and you couldn't get enough of that kiss. You pulled his head towards yours, and he tangled his fingers in your hair. Everything disappeared around you, once again, there was nothing else that ever mattered, nothing came before or will after this moment. Just the two of you, holding each other tight, feeling safe in each other company, sharing the best kiss both of you ever had. You had no idea how long time it passed, but a sound of Hunters voice brought you back to reality.

"Erm, sorry” - you heard his smoky voice.

You both jumped.

“I really am” - Hunter said and smiled.

You blushed, and Echo saw that and tightened his arm around you and whispered "it’s okay” to your ear.

"It’s okay, Hunter. Something you need?" - Echo asked him.

"We need to get to work soon" - Hunter hesitated, clearly not happy that he interrupted you and Echo, but they had a schedule and you realised that Echo was late.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, it’s my fault” - you said and started getting up from the bed. Echo put his arm around your waist and stopped you, as you sat up on the bed and said:

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Emma. It’s nothing that can’t wait."

You looked at Hunter, and he could read on your face that you felt bad, so he sent you a little nod.

“It’s okay. We need to work on some strategies today, and our boy Echo here is our biggest expert. But we have a whole day ahead of us. Have you slept well?” - he asked you.

“I slept very well,” - you answered. Better than in a long time." - you answered and touched Echo’s hand around your waist.

“Glad to hear that. That rain last night was not like any other I’ve ever seen. And I grew up on Kamino.” - Hunter said. “When you're ready, come outside. It’s actually sunny now." - he turned and left.

You were siting on the bed, your feet now touching the ground, and Echo hugged your waist, still lying in bed. He hugged you even closer and buried his head in your lap:

“I wish I could stay this way whole day” - he said.

You touched his head, gently.

"Me too” - you said, "but I think we should probably come outside. I don’t want to impose here more than necessary”

“You’re not, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want” - Echo said, and hugged you closer.

“I wish I could. But I should probably go and check on Denize. - you said. “I don’t want her to worry”.

Echo kissed your thigh and unwrapped his arms around you. You got up, found your clothes and went to the bathroom. The whole night felt magical. You felt so safe and comfortable in Echo’s arms, and it was difficult to find the strength and motivation to get up and leave. You felt great but you couldn’t help yourself thinking - what did all this mean? Why did it feel so good?

When you left the bathroom, refreshed and back in your clothes, you found the whole squad outside. Echo joined them, and his face brightened when he saw you again.

“Emma, this is Crosshair and Tech” - he introduced you to the two troopers you haven’t met before, and who were sound asleep last night when you arrived.

“Nice to meet you” - you greeted them. The taller one with a crosshair tattooed across his right eye slightly nodded, but kept looking at you intensely, and the trooper with the glasses smiled politely. Hunter offered you a ration bar, and you realised in that moment, that this was what they were living on the entire time. Their breakfast, lunch and dinner. You wanted to do something for them while they were here, and repay them for their generous hospitality last night, so you had an idea:

“I really would like to stay” - you said and turned to Echo, whose smiling eyes never left you for a moment, "but I should get going. I’d like to invite you all to a dinner tonight at my place. There will be some home-cooked food, specialities from my planet and it would be my honour if you’d be my guests. What do you say? - you looked over at Hunter, and he nodded:

“That’s not an offer we get that often, Emma, so yes! Of course! We’d love to!”

“We’ll be there” - Echo said and smiled and came closer to you one step. Wrecker sent you thumbs up.

“Great! I live right by the market, the tall blue house right at the entrance - you cannot miss it!” - you said.

"We’ll be there, Emma. Thank you” - Echo replied, and the other troopers seemed to have liked that idea as well.

“I’m looking forward to it” - you said. "I really should get going now” - you turned to Echo. Echo nodded.

“I’ll walk you a bit” - he said, but you didn’t want to take much more of his time, and you shook your head and came closer to him.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. They need you now. I’ll see you tonight” - you said and smiled, and saw that Echo was almost about to kiss you and he restrained himself in the last moment, which made you smile even wider.

“Okay then, I’ll be counting the moments till I see you again tonight, Emma” - he said.

“Me too” - you replied and turned to the other troopers:

“Nice meeting you all. See you tonight”

They waived back and you walked home thinking about what you’ll cook for them and how much you were looking forward to host them and return the hospitality.

—

Echo lifted his head and saw Hunter at the ship’s entrance. He saw it in his eyes immediately. He felt the ground open under him.

"We’ve been called up. We have a new mission” - Hunter said, not removing his eyes from Echo. Other troopers got up immediately, but Echo stayed frozen. Hunter came closer to him:

“I can give you an hour” - he said quietly.

——

You managed to get all the ingredients at the marked, everything you needed for a nice meal you were planning to prepare tonight. Denize was working at your stand, and you came home earlier to start preparing and cooking. Your thoughts were still full of Echo, you could still feel his hugs all over your body, and you couldn’t get those kisses out of your mind. All of a sudden there was a loud knock at your door, the emergency of which almost scared you.

You came closer to the door, almost hesitating to open it, and then you heard Echo’s voice:

“Emma?”.

You jumped, and opened the door, and you saw him. His eyes told you immediately something was terribly wrong. He looked flushed, almost out of breath.

“Echo, what… what happened?” - you asked.

“We’ve been called up. We’re leaving in an hour” he said. You felt like someone punched you in stomach, real hard, and all the air left you lungs.

“What…how..” - was all you managed to say and you felt dizzy and like you were going to collapse. You felt your knees were going to give up and Echo saw that and he came one step closer and caught you. He held you tight around your waist, and you threw your arms around him. He held you, and walked inside, closing the door behind him. You both knew. There were no words left to say. This was the reality. He was a soldier, and this was what his purpose was. He’ll be leaving. He’ll always be leaving. It was up to you to find those moments, those precious moments, and to treasure them, to make them yours and to make them matter. You felt the tears in your eyes, but you tried your best to hold them back. You lifted your head and you found his eyes. The look in his eyes was unmistakable. He was sorry. Sorry to put you through this, both of you. Sorry to make you feel this way, sorry for leaving. But you both knew that there was no time for that - none of that would or should ruin your moment. Your hour. You had an hour, and you could pack an entire galaxy of happiness and love in that hour. You pressed your lips against his, and you kissed him passionately. You drew him closer to you, and he kissed you back, his arms around your waist. You kept pulling him closer to you, your hands started exploring his body, going down from his shoulders, and down and up his arms - he pulled away from the kiss for a moment, and looked you close in the eyes:

“Are you sure?” - he whispered.

You nodded, holding back those tears as hard as you could - and nothing else was needed. He kissed you again, and hugged you so tight that he lifted you from the ground. You threw your arms and your legs around him, and he walked to the nearest bed and gently put you down. He was kissing your neck, while he started unbuttoning your shirt. You unhooked your bra, and threw it on the ground together with your shirt. His eyes widened at the sight of your breasts and the way he looked at you melted your heart. You hugged him closer, and he kissed your neck again, and then started slowly going down. His lips were soon on your left nipple, while his fingers caressed and teased the right one.

He slowly moved his kisses onto your stomach, and started pulling your pants down. You lifted your hips to help him, and soon you were left just in your panties. He pulled away from you for a second, and once again looked at you in awe. You saw that he was savouring that moment, and you let him, your body already flushed and hot with the desire for him.

“You are so beautiful” - was everything he managed to say, before his lips were back on your body, kissing your lower stomach and moving further down. He lifted your knees slightly, and spread your legs and then he planted a gentle kiss on your clit through your underwear. You felt the heat gather up in your stomach and slowly started spreading to your whole body. He continued to tease you, as he gently bit your clit feeling it becoming firmer against your panties.

“Echo!" - you moaned, and he pulled your panties down, caressing your thighs.

I want to make you feel good… tell me how this feels." - he whispered, and touched your folds, massaging them, teasing your entrance. You arched your back as he put his thumb gently on your clit.

"Oh, Echo…." - was everything you managed to say, and his tongue was already on your clit, first almost shyly and gently, and then moving with more speed and more pressure. You moved your fingers across his head, trying to grab onto something, and you moaned loudly. Echo’s hand was holding your hips firmly, as his tongue was gently exploring your clit, your folds and then teased your entrance. You were already almost out of breath, you felt your pulse elevate as he buried his tongue deep inside you. You arched your back and dug your nails in his head - you thought that you must have hurt him, but Echo didn’t react in any way - he continued to move his tongue in and out of you, while gently massaging your clit with his thumb.

You couldn’t control yourself any longer and your moans became louder. All you could think of in that moment is feeling Echo inside you, giving him this incredible feeling back, sharing it with him.

“Echo… Echo…” you barely managed to speak.

He lifted his head and looked at you, his mouth and chin completely soaked in your juices.

“Are you okay?” - he almost looked concerned.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to compose yourself:

“I’m more than okay, my love, this is incredible. But I want to feel you inside me now, I want it so much!” you said in one breath.

Echo smiled, and extended his arm to touch your cheek.

“Anything you want, sweet one. You taste incredible, I could keep doing this for hours...”

You lifted your head and you supported yourself on your elbows.

“Echo…” - you said, and he kept looking at you, his eyes soft. You wanted to tell him how much he meant to you, even though you’ve only known him for such a short time. It felt like you were meant to meet each other, it felt like there was nowhere else to be in this moment, but together.

You sat up and you moved closer to him. Your hands started exploring his amour, but you couldn’t figure it out - where to begin? Which part to take off first - and how?

“Can you help me?” - you said. “How does a girl ever take this thing off a soldier?”

Echo smiled. You felt that he was hesitating for a moment - you knew he wanted you, but you wanted to wipe away any insecurity he might have had.

“Echo…. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone! I want to feel your body, I want to feel your skin on mine - please”

Echo’s closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, you saw a desire you haven’t seen before. His eyes narrowed and darkened, his lips parted slightly, and he took your hand that moments ago was exploring his armour and kissed it. He moved away from you, got up, and stood still for a moment. He then proceeded removing his arm pieces, first a part on his cybernetic arm, and then from his other arm, his chest piece, his kama, and his leg armour. Everything was taking time, and you savoured every moment, until he was left only in his tight black shirt and pants. He stood like that for a moment, looking slightly vulnerable, and you got up and came closer to him. You could see a prominent bulge in his pants, waiting, begging to be released.

“I can take it from here - you whispered in his ear, and he smiled:

“Please do” - he said, his eyes fixed on you.

You let your hand slip to his stomach and further down, and you felt his erection. You gently cupped his cock through his blacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Echo closed his eyes and let a quiet moan. You moved your hand up, and started pulling his pants down. You could feel that Echo’s body slightly stiffened and you guessed it was because you were going to see his legs for the first time. You knelt in front of him, and he looked at you, but you could see that he trusted you, and you smiled. You pulled his pants down and released his hard cock. You touched it and Echo moaned again. You stroked it a few times, and started pulling his pants further down. Reaching his knees and pulling them all the way to the floor, you could for the first time see his cybernetic legs. They started just above both of his knees and they were beautiful and elegant. They made him look tough and unique. You looked up and you caught Echo’s eyes, looking, searching for your reaction. You smiled.

“You’re so beautiful. Even more beautiful then I knew”

As soon as you said that, Echo knelt as well and took your head in his hands. He kissed you passionately, once again, one of those kisses that made you knees weak, and he felt it and he gently laid you down on the floor. His hand once again started exploring your body, first your breasts and then it wandered down to your pussy and his middle finger started teasing your clit again. You moaned into his mouth and he speeded up his movement. He then slipped his finger in your pussy and slightly bent it. You broke from his kiss to moan loudly, as he put his thumb on your clit and added his index finger inside you. He kept doing that for a while and it sent you to the edge once again, when he moved his lips closer to your ear:

“I want to be inside you so bad, sweet one” - he whispered.

Your body was so hot and flushed from Echo’s fingers in your pussy and your clit, and you were already panting, so all you managed to say was:

“Yes, Echo, please!”

As soon as you said that he removed his fingers and positioned himself at your entrance. You could feel his tip against your wet pussy and you impatiently moved your hips closer to him,. Echo smiled, caressed your hips and then entered you, slowly. You could feel him, every inch of him. He was so hard and you could feel his big cock entering you and stretching you and you threw your arms around him and let a loud moan. He kissed your neck repeatedly, and once he was finally in, he stayed that way for a few moments and then he pulled out completely, and slammed into you again, this time faster and harder. The sensation of his incredibly hard cock against your wetness sent you over the edge and you could feel your orgasm building again. You looked at Echo who moments ago was looking deep into your eyes, as he now closed his eyes shut and threw his head back, panting and quietly moaning, and you saw how good this felt for him.

“Baby, yes… Echo” - you kept repeating, and he buried his head back to your neck and started sucking on it, this time more hungrily and desperately. You scratched his back repeatedly, and you were sure that you were going to leave some deep marks there. You were together, finally, united in this incredible moment, you sweaty bodies moving in the same direction, to the same beat, your breathing synchronised, and your orgasms building up. His cock felt amazing, as he was moving inside and out first slowly, just sliding in and out, then moving faster, and then going slowly again. You could see he enjoyed that as well, and all you could do is encourage him to just take you, to do whatever he wanted, to have you whatever way he desired, as everything he did sent you to heaven. There was nothing else in that moment, just his warm body on yours, taste of his lips on yours, on your neck and on your nipples, his hand caressing your body, his sweat mixing with yours, and you didn’t need anything else in this galaxy. You were the happiest girl in the world and with that thought you opened your eyes and found his, the tip of his nose touching yours and you felt your orgasm washing over your entire body, as you lost yourself into his eyes. You hugged him tighter and screamed his name several times. He held you, never breaking the eye contact and he slowed his movements down for a few moments. You panted, out of your breath and he kissed you gently.

"Echo” - you said as you managed to catch your breath.

"Yes, my love” - he whispered.

“I want you to cum inside me” - you said and you looked him deep into his eyes again. He planted his lips on your again, and then moved them on your nipple as he slammed inside you, this time deeper than ever before. You arched your back slightly, and he held you now firmer, his teeth gently teasing your nipple, and his hips moving faster, his thrusts being firmer and harder. You could see by the way his entire body stiffened that he was close, you could feel his cock growing even harder inside you, till he growled, his release sending him to heaven. He was panting as he collapsed on top of you, and you threw your arms around him and you held him. You held him like you did last night in the rain, close and tight, you could feel his muscles relaxing one by one, he felt safe in your arms and you didn’t want to let go. He pulled out slowly, and you could feel his seed slowly leaking out of you. You stayed that way for few minutes, his weight on you, slightly crushing you, but you didn’t mind. You were united, together, intervened in every way and you knew that this moment now, and ever again, would be one of those most precious, rarest, purest of moments.

After a while, Echo peeled himself off of you, making you miss him right away.

He looked you in the eyes for several moments, and you could see in each others' eyes how happy you both were, how happy you made each other. You smiled, and he smiled back. You both knew. There were no words necessary.

Echo kissed you again, this time gently and slowly, and then he moved his lips to your ear:

“I’ll come back, my love! I promise!”

#echo smut #echo my beloved #echo x you #echo tbb #echo x reader #the bad batch echo #the bad batch smut

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montrealmadison · 3 years ago

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drink deeply

or, as they say at samwell, “penitus potes.” shitty gives the toast at jack and bitty’s wedding. for @zimbitsweddingofficial and day two of zimbits wedding week: the wedding itself!

just for fun, a draft version of the beginning of this fic with lardo, ransom, and holster’s “helpful” edits can be found via google doc here. hope y’all enjoy! <3

Good evening, everyone! On behalf of Jack and Eric, thank you all so much for being here tonight, and welcome to what could very well be the most highly anticipated wedding reception of 2019. I mean, this party was planned by the likes of Suzanne Bittle and Alicia Zimmermann. We are in for a treat, folks.

Before we get to all that, I’d also like to extend a particular welcome to those in attendance who are part of the playing, coaching, and/or office staff of the Providence Falconers. Glad you could all make it this evening; I know this past week was a little bit busy for you guys.

[Insert appropriate pause and gesture to the punch bowl, which on closer inspection is actually—oh yeah—the Stanley Cup the Falcs won three days ago. Hold for inevitable applause, general hysteria, and/or hooting/hollering from Tater.]

For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve been trying to decide whether I should introduce myself by my first name, which will inevitably get me mocked by my friends until the end of time, or by my nickname, which will definitely scandalize anyone who has not spent a significant amount of time around twenty-year-old guys who play hockey. However, as I look around the room, I’m realizing that most of you probably either raised, spent significant time around, or were once a twenty-year-old guy who played hockey. To the rest of you, I am profoundly sorry.

So, hi! I’m Shitty, and I’m Jack’s best man.

read more below or on ao3

Being someone’s best man, as I’ve realized over the last few months, should really come with a playbook or an instruction manual or something, because it’s a task unlike any other you’ll ever take on. In addition to being a friend, you have to be a confidant, an expert at bachelor-party debauchery (I think my college resume definitely prepared me for this part) and someone who’s not afraid to step in to make last-minute decisions so the grooms don’t have to. You also have to do all of these things without getting fired from your job or stepping on anyone’s toes, up to and including: the couple getting married, the other people in the wedding party, the grooms’ parents, the wedding planner, and most importantly, Moomaw, whose word is law around here.

(Seriously. She made the pie tonight, people. Bow down to her.)

But as much as the role can feel a little bit like you’re being thrown in at the deep end, it also definitely comes with its perks. Tonight, I have both the honor and the challenge of somehow summarizing how much I love Jack and Eric in a speech that is heartfelt and witty yet also brief so that we can get to the aforementioned pie as quickly as possible. If you’re still following me here, that is a tall order—but here goes nothing!

I met Jack Zimmermann on our first day of freshman year at Samwell, during the bright, hot summer of 2011. I was participating in the time-honored tradition of moving into a dorm on the third floor of a building with no elevator and no air conditioning in the middle of August. It builds character, or so the good folks in Samwell administration probably tell themselves. Anyway, athletes got to move in early for preseason, so I was expecting to be one of the only guys on the floor for at least a couple days. I was just carrying the last box into my room when the door next to mine opened and—well, you can probably guess who walked out.

Now, I grew up in Boston, which means I also grew up around hockey culture. I’d heard the news that Jack was coming to Samwell, so I knew who he was when he stepped into the hall in that same vague way that you kind of-sort of recognize celebrities hustling down the street or through the airport with their sunglasses on. And he gave me that same vibe—“I know you know who I am, and I’d very much like not to be bothered about it.”

Here is something that will not shock you if you know us: Jack was the first friend I made in college. Here is something that might shock you if you know us: That definitely doesn’t mean we were friends at first. By his own admission, Jack wasn’t at Samwell to make friends at all. He told me, much later, that he was only planning to go to play hockey, get his life back on track, and keep his head down as much as possible.

So in retrospect, maybe it was an unlucky thing for Jack that he ran into the one person who wasn’t going to let him do that.

Because no matter who you are or where you’re from, freshman year of college breeds a unique kind of terror I’ve never felt anywhere else. There’s a lot of pressure to completely remake yourself, to become the person you maybe never could have been in your hometown. By coming to Samwell, I wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one that Andover had raised. Jack wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one he’d spent twenty years telling himself he had to be. As much as neither of us wanted to admit it, we both wanted similar things out of our college experience, and we needed a support system to do that. And so, however begrudging the two of us were about it at first, we started to bond more and more.

It wasn’t always easy. For one thing, my idea of a good time was a lot louder than Jack’s—who enjoyed such scintillating pursuits as “watching golf” and “going to bed at a reasonable hour”, neither of which were quite in my vocabulary at the ripe old age of eighteen. Also, if it’s before six in the morning, he has a hard time remembering to speak English, which used to make for a lot of stilted conversations between the two of us as we walked to early morning practice. (On a completely unrelated note, the first and probably only thing I ever learned in Québécois is how to swear.)

I don’t remember the exact tipping point at which Jack and I really became friends; I think it was more of a quiet acknowledgment that we liked having each other around, that we balanced each other out in ways that neither of us initially knew we needed. What I do know is that, slowly but surely, I started to get glimpses of the Jack that exists off the ice. And so began one of the most extraordinary journeys of my life, because the only thing crazier than knowing Jack Zimmermann is actually knowing Jack.

Here are some things that I’ve learned in the process: He’s on his third pair of neon yellow running shoes, which he buys specifically because the color makes him happy. Before either of us tried Eric’s pies, the only thing that could make him cheat on a meal plan was a sleeve of Double Stuf Oreos. (Don’t ask him how to eat them correctly unless you’re interested in a twenty-minute speech on exactly how they have to be pulled apart.) And he loves Captain America, although it is the opinion of this best man that America’s ass has nothing on his hockey butt. Have you seen that thing? It has Internet fans in at least two different countries.

But I digress.

In our sophomore year we lived next to each other again, by choice instead of by chance, in what I can only describe as the pinnacle of American college living: the Samwell Men’s Hockey Haus. We used to pull the comforter off of one of our beds and climb out onto the roof and clear off the snow so we could share the blanket, look up at the stars, and listen to the bass thumping through the wall of the house next door. On nights when other things felt confusing, this one part of my life was clear. There’s something about sitting out under the open sky that just makes it easier to talk to a guy, you know?

Some nights the conversations we had were funny. Some nights they were serious. Some nights we said nothing at all, just sat secure in the knowledge that someone cared enough to exist alongside us for a little while. There was always an unspoken agreement between us on nights like these: I got your back. For me, Jack’s friendship became a rock, a refuge. It’s something that I came to depend on that year and still do to this day.

As for the content of those late-night conversations—well, some things do have to stay between friends. I’m sure Jack will agree, especially because he has so graciously allowed me to get up here and lovingly roast him just a little bit.

So let’s skip ahead again, to yet another August, the start of our junior year, and the arrival on the scene of one Eric Bittle. This kid burst into our ranks like a ray of Southern sunshine and turned pretty much everything upside down in the process. In the first five minutes of being in the Haus, he somehow made us a pie? Folks, I'm not kidding, it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. We were a bunch of guys who didn’t know what we were missing until we had it, and let me tell you, it was one hell of a semester after that. In pretty short order we had curtains on the windows and baked goods on the counters, and Samwell Men’s Hockey started to become not only a team but a family.

That was off the ice, at least. On it, things were a little more complicated. As our dear friend and former goalie John Johnson said to me, Jack and Eric hadn’t gone through their character development yet—whatever that means.

Take our third or fourth practice with the full team that year, for example. It had gone… uh. Poorly, would be a word. Later that night I heard some rustling on the roof outside, and God knows I was willing to do just about anything but my homework—so I stuck my head out the window and there was Jack, watching the stars. I asked him if he wanted a buddy, and he said alright, so I slid out and sat down next to him.

That was pretty usual for us at this point. What wasn’t usual was the topic of conversation. The first thing Jack said to me was, “Bittle’s gonna get eaten alive when our schedule starts.” (Remember, people, they’re married now!) The second was, “I want to help.”

Here’s another thing about Jack: Underneath the veneer is a guy who just cares so intensely it’d shock you if you knew nothing else about him. It shocked me a little that day. I think it even shocked him to admit it, to the point where I had to say, “Jack, it’s not a criminal offense to care about other people. Even if it feels like you’re doing it for yourself.”

So he helped. He offered an olive branch, and Bits took him up on it. I’d hear the two of them get up in the morning, hours before the rest of us had to be at Faber, for checking practice. None of the rest of us ever knew exactly what went down, but one thing was for sure—Eric put in a ton of work to overcome some of the fears that had followed him to college. He got better, and Jack relaxed. The two of them really started working as a team, and things started looking up from there.

The day that they told us they were dating was pretty amazing. Eric is so full of light no matter how bleak a situation may look, but that day he was literally almost glowing. And I’ve seen Jack in moments after victory and loss, at his best and at his worst. But I’ve never seen a Jack who was so happy, possessed of such confidence in a decision he’d made, as I saw him that day at brunch. And that’s when I knew this relationship was really special.

From there, many of you know the story. You watched it play out on ESPN and social media and the front pages of every single gossip magazine on the supermarket shelves. But if you’re sitting here with us tonight, you also watched it play out between Jack and Eric themselves. You’ve watched them handle expectations as a united front. You’ve watched their unfailing dedication to each other while they navigate the pressure of being some pretty big firsts. You know that, behind the scenes, these are two incredibly genuine people who bring out the best in each other and are dedicated to doing that every single day.

In the last four years, I’ve watched Eric become self-possessed and confident because he was given the space to do so. In the last six years, I’ve watched Jack grow from a kid with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove to a guy who finally believes that he deserves all the good things the world has given him and then some. If you take nothing else away from this speech, I want you to know this: I’m incredibly proud to call myself a friend to both of them.

Jack, Bits, you’re always gonna be my brothers, my best friends, and two of the finest damn men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I wish you both a long and happy marriage. Take care of each other, be good to each other, and never forget where you started—as a team.

So please join me in raising your glasses, everyone, and as they say at Samwell—penitus potes to Jack and Eric!

#shitty knight #jack zimmermann #eric bittle #zimbitswedding #omgcp #check please #this idea jumped into my head and refused to leave #shitty & jack & bitty friendship my beloved #my writing

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poesparakeet-fics · 3 years ago

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Read it here or on AO3!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Caleb Widogast Characters: Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss, Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre, Caduceus Clay Additional Tags: Shadogast - Freeform, dunamancy, Empire Siblings - Freeform, Prank Wars, Tickling, rib tickling Summary:

What happens to a ticklish wizard when he manages to piss off too many of the people who love him? Allies are made and lessons are learned.

FIC

“Caleb Widogast!” Caleb jumped as he walked into the kitchen of the Xorhaus, unsure of what he could have possibly done to upset anyone this early in the morning. He was even more surprised when he saw who. “Essek?” Caleb stammered, taken aback. The drow was perched on a large kitchen chair with a cup of Caduceus’ tea in his hands and a pinched look on his face. “Schatze, I’m sorry, were we to meet? I hope you weren’t waiting long, I--” “No.” Essek corrected him sharply. “I am here to have tea with Mr. Clay at his request, to discuss the situation in Savalierwood. But he just told me that he healed some pretty distinct injuries for you, yesterday?” Caleb felt a guilty cringe fold his stomach in half. He sighed, looking at Caduceus. “So that just came up, ja?” “Yeah,” Caduceus responded, “thought it might be why you slept in.” “Ja, I had a bit of a fall--” “A fall? From where?” Essek’s gaze was intense. Caleb dropped his eyes to the floor. “Oh just, you know, clumsy--” “Really? You clumsily practiced dunamantic phasing on your own and fell through the floor?” “I think it was three floors, actually…” Caduceus mused quietly. The cringe came to the surface and showed, unbidden on Caleb’s face. “Essek, I--” “I have never limited you. It was the one thing I asked.” “I know, I--” “Caleb.” He froze when Essek cut him off, meeting the elf’s gaze once more. Essek stared him down hard before continuing. “I had… better masters than you had, when I was a young wizard. Infinitely gentler, certainly. But they would have whipped me for practicing phasing magic by myself. Truly. You could have cut yourself in half, dismembered yourself, crushed yourself, suffocated in a wall--” Essek seemed to cut himself off with a wave of his hand. “The point… the point is it would cause me a great heartbreak if irresponsible use of the magic I taught you led to your demise. Please promise me again, and keep it this time.” Caleb ducked his head, feeling like a rightfully scolded school child. “I will, ja. I am sorry.” Essek gave him a look that said he didn't entirely believe him. “I do trust you. I do not trust your curiosity. It’s only a virtue if it doesn’t get you killed.” Caleb laughed softly, nodding as he sat down at the table with them and accepted a teacup from the still-silent Caduceus. He winked at Essek. “I think I could say the same to you, but fair enough. If I do it again, I’ll let you whip me.” Essek smiled back, but the doubt didn’t leave his expression. ... “CALEB!” Beau’s voice thundered from upstairs, and Caduceus almost dropped the knife he was using to prepare vegetables for dinner. He spun around to see the wizard in question with his hands in his component pouch, running as fast as he could through the kitchen and out the back door. Beau’s quick steps followed, but by the time she was in the kitchen they could both hear the familiar woosh of a misty step from outside. She stopped stock-still in the kitchen, hands clenched into fists, looking… different than Caduceus had ever seen her. What was it? “Uh… hey. Did you get some new clothes.?” Beau turned to him silently, eyes burning holes in his head. It was pretty scary, actually. “Oh! Uh… is that what this is about?” Beau’s clothes were bright magenta where they had once been her usual cobalt blue. She was still staring at Caduceus with her fists clenched. Veth and Fjord were creeping wearily into the kitchen behind her. “I think it looks nice--!” Veth offered, only to choke off in a scared squeak when Beau rounded to face her. Beau reached out to yank Fjord’s hat off his head and put it on. “Hey!’ Fjord protested, before clamping one hand over his mouth to hide a smile. “Oh. I see.” As it perched on Beau’s head, the hat instantly turned the same bright magenta of her robes. When she handed it back it returned to its usual color. The whole room was biting lips to keep an amused smile off their face, lest they become the new target for her fury. Beau took a deep breath before bellowing again. “CALEB!” She spoke into the air, her voice loud enough to hear throughout the house. “I KNOW THAT SPELL DOESN’T GO FAR. I KNOW YOU’RE HERE, AND I AM GOING TO FUCKING GET YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME? I AM GOING TO DO DOPE MONK SHIT TO YOUR NERVOUS SYSTEM, TIE YOU UP AND FEED YOU TO A ROOM FULL OF TIEFLINGS. You will FUCKING SUFFER! THINK OF A NEW NAME, CAUSE CALEB WIDOGAST IS A FUCKING DEAD MAN! ” At the end of her tirade Beau took a deep breath and started to walk upstairs again, but not before spinning around and jabbing a finger at everyone in the kitchen. “ANYONE caught harboring the wizard will share his fucking fate!” … "...CALEB WIDOGAST IS A FUCKING DEAD MAN! ” Caleb was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his hiding place in Fjord’s empty bedroom when Beau finished her threats, but by the time she was climbing the stairs again he had disappeared with a crackling pop. When the disorienting suck of the teleport spell faded he was standing on a clay path in a dimly-lit garden next to a trio of small towers made of iridescent grey brick. An arcane weather-vane creaked in the darkness. He started toward the door. “Caleb?” A head of pale curls popped up over the top of a bush of dark purple flowers, a frown of concern on the face beneath. “Essek, hello. Ah… may I spend the night?” Essek walked toward him as he pulled floral gardening gloves off of his hands, eyes narrowed wearily. “Of course, I am always happy to have you...” He reached Caleb and placed a distracted kiss on his cheek. “... did something happen at home?” “Yes.” Caleb answered, only to stutter as Essek’s worry grew, “Oh, ah, nothing bad. Well, nothing very bad. I just need to avoid Beauregard for a bit.” Essek’s worry immediately evaporated to be replaced with amused annoyance. “I see. What did you do this time?” They both started to stroll through the garden toward Essek’s back door. “Oh, just some illusion work. It will go away by morning. She deserves it, after stealing my spellbook while I was sleeping.” “Mhmm.” Essek hummed, linking his arm with Caleb’s. “But wasn’t her stealing your spellbook revenge for…” “The magic spiders, ja, but I had to do that! She--” “--the disappearing ink, yes, I remember. Are you sensing a pattern here, chathtiu?” Caleb sniffed and turned his nose up. “I have no idea what you mean.” Essek’s smile turned indulgent as he pulled Caleb into his home. “I’m sure you don’t. Beauregard does have a way of pushing your buttons, hm?” “She is the expert.” “I should ask her for advice, one of these days.” Caleb only laughed, pulling the smaller man into his arms. “You have your own way of pushing my buttons, don’t you schatz?” Essek smiled back. “You’re right, of course. I do.” ... Caleb stalked through the library of the Xorhause, circling it room by room. While his books were sitting on the desk he’d been working at the night before, their holsters were missing. He shifted the papers on his desk, panic rising in his chest. Where were they? “Caleb?” Jester was standing in the doorway, his holsters dangling from one finger. Caleb let out a sigh of relief. “Jester! Danke! Where were they?” “Sorry, I think Sprinkle must have stolen them.” Caleb shook his head, the tension in his chest easing. “That’s alright. I’m just glad they are found.” He reached out for them, stopping short when another figure entered the room. It was Beau, her clothes now back to their normal deep blue. Their eyes met for a moment, but the monk just breezed past as though she didn’t even notice Caleb was there. It had been a week since the incident with her clothes with no revenge or further threats, and Caleb was starting to wonder if he’d finally won the war. He shrugged his holsters on as the two women sat down on the sofa. He missed Jester’s giggle until it was too late. “Hey Caleb?” Beau asked. “Uh, ja?” Caleb cringed a little, turning around. Beau’s look was positively predatory. “Fuck you.” Caleb was about to respond when the sensation of fingers digging into his ribs flushed all the air out of him in one squeal. He spun around clumsily, hands flapping, but nobody was near him. He craned his neck to look down, his arms helplessly hugging his own ribcage while his knees buckled. That’s when he realized where the sensation was coming from. “Wh-what? No, I-- ah! Please!” His fingers fumbled with the buckle of his holsters to try and escape the traitorous leather trap, but the buckle was trapped under a magical seal of iridescent purple wax with the image of a skeleton key pressed into its surface. “Fuck!” Beaureguard was grinning like a gnoll. “What’s that buddy? Fuck you?” “Aah!” Caleb’s whole body convulsed and hit the carpet as the tickling escalated, even more invisible fingers reaching out from the leather to stroke delicate bones under pale skin and plain cloth. “No no! Please!” “Can I try?” Jester asked, giggling. “Nein!” “Sure, go for it.” “Fuck yooooou Caleb!” Caleb couldn’t answer her with words, he could only wail wordlessly. He writhed on the ground, trying desperately to resist the currently useless instinct to lock his arms at his sides so he could try and pull the holsters off over his head, but it was no use. All he could do was paw uselessly at the leather before Beureguard hissed the trigger word again and all he could see was stars. “Uh… everything alright in here?” Fjord’s voice came from the direction of the door. Caleb couldn’t see him over the sofa. “Fjord!” Caleb screeched. “Plea-hee-se! Evil!” It was all he could get out before his voice cracked and his laughter turned silent, his head thrown back against the carpet. “Huh?” Beau answered in an exaggeratedly casual tone. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just getting a little payback for my pink phase. Stole his holsters and Essek cursed ‘em.” A wave of betrayal strong enough to overpower his ticklishness gave Caleb just enough breath to shout “WHAT?!” before the laughter overtook him again, tears building in his eyes. “I helped with the ruse!” Jester piped up. “Uh-huh.” Fjord nodded, “can he breathe?” “Hmm? Oh, I guess we can check. Good boy, Caleb.” The sensation stopped all at once, and Caleb rolled flat on his back to gulp in air. “See? He’s fine.” Caleb sat up, hands held out in supplication even as he struggled to catch his breath. “Beau, please, I’m s-” “Fuck you and your apology.” Any strength Caleb had recovered melted away as he squealed and flopped back down on the carpet, limbs curling uselessly against his body. The tickling fingers coming from the inner panels of his holsters might as well have been sucking his very life-force out. Fjord lets out a sigh. “If you’re going to torture him for a prank, you at least have to let him apologise. Good boy?” Caleb didn’t get up this time, too scared to trigger someone’s wrath or sense of mischief. He was still giggling, partially from phantom sensation and partially from the panicky tension of knowing that any of them could trigger the curse at any moment. “I’m sorry! Bitte!” There was a beat of silence before Beau turned to Fjord again. “There, I let him apologise. Can we go back to the torture now?” “Wait!” Caleb squeaked, rising unsteadily to his knees. “Please Beau, we can talk about this--” “Oh, you wanna talk now? Cause when it happened you were happy to teleport away to your fucking boyfriend’s. So… you know,” she finished with a grin, “fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU.” “Nein!” Was all Caleb could manage before his laughter stole his voice away, only to crack and go silent once more a moment later. Tears leaked from his eyes to roll into the fluffy carpet beneath him as he crumpled. “Oh, he’s so cute when he cries, I love it!” Jester clapped her hands while she watched from the sofa. “This is the best curse ever.” Fjord made an agreeable sound. “I wonder if Essek could make something more remote? Then we could tickle him wherever we are. That would be fun.” Caleb couldn’t respond to the idea with anything more than pained wail through his hysterics. The others pretended not to notice. “Yeah, I do worry that he goes without when we’re gone.” Jester cooed. “Pfft. Yeah, I don’t think Essek is letting that happen.” Beau snorted. Caleb started to beat at the floor with one hand, hiccups punctuating his laughter. “Aw, alright. Good boy.” The sensation stopped again, but Caleb couldn’t stop his laughter. “Please, pleaheese, *hic* bitte--” “Focus on catching your breath.” Fjord suggested, “It’ll do you more good than begging will.” Caleb let out an exhausted little sob before obeying, his lungs working overtime to suck in air. He wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to make the hiccups go away with little success. When his breathing finally evened out Fjord gave him a reassuring smile. “See, that’s better.” Fjord soothed. Beau’s grin got wider. “Hey, Caleb?” “No!” “Fffffffffff…” “Mercy!” “...uuuuck you!” “Aaii!” Caleb let out a little yelp at the sound of the words, then… nothing. He’d clenched his eyes shut in anticipation, and when he slowly opened them Beau was glaring at him. “Hey! How come it didn’t work?” Caleb let out a huge sigh of relief. The curse must have expended all of its energy. “Is it done?” Jester questioned. Caleb was wondering the same thing. He tried to examine the buckle of his holsters as subtly as possible. The seal was still there, which meant whatever the curse was, it was not over. He needed to get out of earshot as quickly as he could. “I thought it was supposed to last longer than that. Can you message Essek?” “Sure!” Caleb started to cast for misty step as subtly as he could, hoping he was close enough to his lab to lock himself inside. “Hi Essek, it’s Jester! So, your awesome curse thingy is SO great, but like, but it ran out of tickles? Do you know why?” Whoosh. Caleb hit the stone floor of his lab with an oof, dragging himself to his feet and transmuting the door of the lab into stone for good measure. As he groaned he saw that the room looked quite different compared to how he had left it the night before. The large chalkboard he used for calculations had been moved into the centre of the room. In one corner someone had drawn a symbol-- a skeleton key, like the one on the seal trapping him in his holsters. Next to it someone had written in familiar, looping script: I will not practice phasing unsupervised. X100 Caleb whipped out the enchanted little book he and Essek used to send messages between them, only to find a new one waiting for him. You have 30 minutes. Caleb was glad nobody was there to watch him gape like a fish between the chalkboard and the book. Essek couldn’t be serious. He frowned and grabbed up a quill. You are a traitorous snake! There was only a single silent moment before the page shimmered and revealed another message under Caleb’s. Noted. Now you only have 25 minutes. Caleb took a moment to say every curse word in every language he knew. Then he stood up, snatched the chalk and started writing.

#caleb widogast #essek thelyss #Shadogast #Tickling #Tickle Fic #Critickle Role #beauregard lionett #Empire Siblings #Prank wars #Rib tickling #Ticklish Wizards #hot boi essek #TK fic

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mm2305 · 3 years ago

Note

Hello, hello! This week, we are going on a little:

Home Tour!

Notes: Answer the following with pictures (dialogue from your characters is optional!). Collages are highly encouraged if you want to answer a question with multiple pictures because tumblr mobile only allows 10 total pics. Otherwise, tumblr on a desktop lets you add multiple pictures (non-beta)!

For both:

What does the outside of the home look like? (Front/back yard, garden, pool, etc)

Living room and home office (if any)?

Kitchen and dining room?

Bedrooms? (Master, guest, others)

Other rooms?

Do you own your dream home? If not, what does that dream home look like?

What is your favorite room to spend time in with each other?

Hey Bree! Sorry for responding so late (again lol). I'm no expert at interior design so please bear with me. Once again this was great to do and thank you for doing this my dear. Without a further ado, let's go!

Note : these are answered not as newlyweds but about 6 years into their marriage.

{Previous parts here}

****

Olivia *calling out * : Babe are the girls ready?

Ethan *rushing down the stairs holding two small bags* : Yeah all good, Liv! Vic, Lisa go say bye to mommy.

*the two little girls run over to where Olivia is standing and hug her tightly*

Olivia : Be good for auntie Sienna okay?

Both the girls : yes mommy! Love youu

Olivia : I love you too my princesses. Now go with daddy. Have fun!

Ethan *kissing Liv's forehead* : I'll be back in 30 minutes, love. When is Bree coming?

Olivia : In about an hour or so. Drive safe baby.

Ethan : always

----an hour later----

*doorbell rings and Olivia opens the door*

Bree : Hey Liv!

Olivia : Bree! Come in!

Bree : thank you. How are you all doing?

Olivia : we're good. You know the usual. How about you? Can I get you some coffee, tea? Oh I have some cupcakes too if you want.

Bree : A coffee would be nice, thank you. So a house tour today! Are you excited?

Olivia : Oh yes! But Ethan popped down to leave the girls to Sienna, he must be arriving any minute--

Ethan : Darling I'm home!

Olivia : there he is.

*Ethan comes in and hugs Liv*

Ethan : Welcome to our home Bree. How have you been?

Bree : Everything's good, thanks for asking. So ready to start the tour?

Olivia : Let's go!

Front door, pool/backyard etc

Olivia : Okay, you saw the front door but I assume you need some photos right?

Bree : that's right.

Ethan : okay the let's go from there.

Olivia : We really fell in love with this house because there are so many large windows allowing plenty of light inside. I know it seems like a traditional American home but I adore it.

Bree : It's beautiful.

Ethan : Going to the back is the garden/backyard. We allow the girls only here because it's protected and there's tons of space for them to run around.

Olivia : We also added furniture here because we always love hanging out and eating here. Plus it's great for parties and having our friends over.

Living room and home office

Ethan : technically we have two living rooms.

Olivia : Yes, one is larger and more "formal" while the other is more cozy and the decor is a bit different. The whole house is in tones of white, blues, greys and black,while this room is a bit warmer. We have the TV there and a little bit of something else.

Bree : Wow your home is truly beautiful. Liv, I didn't know you played.

Olivia : Thank you Bree. I actually took years of lessons as a kid and teen. Then with college and med school it was pushed to the back. Ethan didn't know about it till we met my parents who still had my baby grand tuned. *going over to the piano and softly stroking the keys* Ethan got me this as a gift for our 5th wedding anniversary. The girls love to hear me play and they seem interested in music too... Want me to play you a piece?

Bree : Wow.. I mean.. If you're sure...

Olivia *smiling* : Take a seat.

*Olivia plays a soft yet cheerful tune on the piano. She finishes and gets up to the applause of Ethan and Bree*

Olivia : Thank you guys. Alright let's move to the office.

Ethan : We try to not bring work back home, but we need the office on the days we need to work from home. We added the library too, so this room is more than a workplace.

Olivia *smirking* : sure is. Plenty of uses for this room. Right darling?

Ethan : Let's move to the kitchen.

Kitchen and dining room

Olivia : This is our dining room and straight ahead the kitchen.

Olivia : I just love the black wood on the kitchen and there's so much counter space.

Ethan : We spend lots of time here because we both enjoy cooking together, but also because our girls are very into it too. They like to have us cut their vegetables, for example, into shapes and arrange then in their plates. Or baking with Liv. It's a mess after but it's worth it.

Olivia *smiling* : Totally worth it

Bedrooms (master, kids, guest)

Ethan : Upstairs we have all the bedrooms. This is our master bedroom and bathroom.

Ethan : Olivia really outdid herself with our bedroom. The colors are so calming.

Olivia : Thanks babe. The bedrooms next to ours are the girls' ones.

Ethan : in the future, if they agree, we're thinking of them moving into a single room. They are pretty close and even now, they are together all the time, they just sleep in different beds.

Olivia : Lastly down the hall is the guest room.

Other rooms?

Olivia : Back to our bedroom we go!! My darling Bree I present you our walk in closet!

Olivia : I've wanted to have this as soon as we saw the house so we had some alterations to the house plan and ta-da!

Ethan : She's always so excited to be here.

Olivia : It's my paradise Ethan. Now let's go to the basement.

Ethan : This is our bar/adult playroom.

Olivia : Aka his man cave.

Ethan : I am not going to comment on that. Besides your friends are here all the time too so it is not a man cave.

Olivia : Whatever you say babe. He did a good work with the decor. All by himself. I'm still seriously impressed.

Ethan *chuckles* : You are so surprised

Olivia : You can't blame me. Now the last room. Our very own home theater!!

Olivia : definitely one of the best decisions I've ever made. We needed this in our home.

Ethan : I wanted a home gym but she convinced me to do this instead.

Olivia : Pf please. There are plenty of gyms around but this? Our own place to watch movies? Just relaxing and doing nothing but cuddling and --

Ethan : Okay you're right, we know it, love.

Olivia *grinning*: We've been together for years, yet these words remain my all time favorite.

Ethan : *lovingly rolls eyes and smiles*

Do you own your dream home?

Ethan : We do.

Olivia : Absolutely. When we got married we decided we would stay at Ethan's apartment for a couple of years, then look for a house. We did intend to have a family so...

Ethan : We bought this house around the start of Liv's second pregnancy with Elisa and by the time she gave birth the house was ready to be furnished. We moved here about 3 months later, with lots of help from our family and friends.

Olivia : And this home, every part of it, was shaped by both of us so we do love living here.

What is your favorite room to spend time in with each other?

Ethan : Well... Aside firm the bedroom... The "informal" living room. There are days we'll just be sitting, Liv playing and me reading and just being together. It's the moments of calm that we need and keep us going.

Olivia : Plus, it's the place we spend time with our girls as a family. We always make sure to have time for them every day, despite our schedules. We want them to feel close to us and *holding Ethan's hand and looking at him* I think we are doing a pretty good job with them.

Bree : Honestly, I have no doubt that you do. Thank you for having me here guys, your home is absolutely fantastic.

Ethan : It's always a pleasure Bree.

Bree : I'll see you both soon, then. Have a great afternoon!

Olivia : You too Bree!

*****

A/N : so this is it! Thank you for reading this!

Taglist : Perma (all edits and fics) : @romewritingshop @codykosuckmytoe @sophxwithers @actuallybored @potionsprefect @ethansramsey @crystalwillow @gryffindordaughterofathena @kiara-36 @mrsethanfreakingramsey @writer-ish @panda9584 @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @queencarb @shanzay44 @nikki-2406 @starryeyedrookie @coffeeheartaddict @schnitzelbutterfingers @mysticaurathings @starrystarrytrouble @lsvdw-blog @izzyourresidentlawyer @silma-words @stygianflood @headoverheelsforramsey @maurine07 @natureblooms24 @a-crepusculo @barbean @choicesaddict5 @quixoticdreamer16 let me know if you want to be added or removed :)

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #choices #asked and answered #newlyweds game with your host bree #ethan x olivia

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illyria-12 · 3 years ago

Text

AOT Headcanons

I’ve been thinking of posting some of my headcanons and other shit here a bit more. I’m much more active on other platforms, but figured, why not?

So have something I threw together at... I dunno, maybe 3am Monday morning? :)

Warnings: None that I am aware of.

Includes: Eren Jaeger, Armin Arlert, Levi Ackerman, Erwin Smith, Hanji Zoe, Reiner Braun (At present, maybe more added at a later date.)

AOT Characters as Study Buddies:

Eren Jaeger:·

Do not expect this boy to remember that he agreed to study with you. He could have agreed to study with you just a few hours ago, and would forget. He needs regular reminders.

Remind him a couple of days before, the day before, on the day, during lunch and definitely make sure you text him after school.

Is always late.

He starts off really focused. Pulls out his books and notes and is eager to help.

But he also gets very easily distracted.

Will often check his phone. It’s a really bad habit he can’t seem to control. Whether it’s just checking the time or clearing notifications, expect his phone to be in his hand at least 60% of the time. Clearing notifications often leads to him scrolling through social media, sending snaps or replying to texts too.

Will always involve you, telling you why he is laughing, showing the funny video or meme he has found or explaining a conversation he is having.

It’s entertaining, but not exactly the reason you are here...

He doesn’t have a preference of where he studies, he is pretty content anywhere, but if you go to his place, he will frequently bring in snacks or order pizza. Also is much more easily distracted when at home.

His attention span isn’t great, and although he loves the idea of being helpful and studying with you, he gets bored quickly.

Can also get confused with his own notes.

Will often try and get you to call an end to the study session rather than do it himself. It makes him feel accomplished that way; like he has done his job and you are the one who has had enough.Will often groan things like:

“Are we done yet?”

“My head/back/wrist/eyes hurt.”

Occasionally he will suggest ‘taking a break’, but once that has been agreed to, it is pretty much the end of studying for the rest of the night.

Likes to try and make studying as fun as possible. Bright colours, highlighting, bubble diagrams, sticky notes. You best believe his version of pop quiz is to write random answers on a sticky note and stick it to your forehead and then get you to ask questions until you get the answer right.

Will definitely reward you with a kiss when you finally get it right.

Sometimes leaves sticky notes in your book of ‘motivational quotes' to make you smile when you eventually come across them.

Armin Arlert:-

By far, the most committed study buddy you could have hoped for.

You have weekly study sessions at the library every Friday after school.

Armin is always there before you, fully prepared; books laid out neatly on the table. Sometimes he even starts his homework while waiting for you.

Is very much a fan of making a little itinerary of things you are going to work through on the day.

Doesn’t mind odd conversation but is an expert at getting you back on the subject at hand. He can often even relate whatever you’ve said back to the topic... although sometimes it doesn’t make sense. But it’s still funny and endearing.

“You know who else thought Mrs Bratton was a bitch? William Shakespeare.”

Is incredibly patient.

Is a great supporter, always encouraging you and praising you when you get things right.

Would never admit it but he finds it cute when you just can’t wrap your head around something and then out of nowhere, the penny drops.

The faces you pull entertain him. Either when realization finally dawns on you or if you’re thinking very hard.

“Hey, don’t worry, you got this... let’s just go through it again.” “That’s it! See? Told you you’d get there.”

Will always make sure he brings you something to drink and snack on during session. Usually a sandwich, crisps or some chocolate to give you a bit of a boost.

Doesn’t push you too hard, if you say you have had enough, he will generally leave it there, or try to convince you to do just a bit more, but never in a demanding sort of way.

“Okay, shall we finish this page first?”

“One more section? Promise.”

Armin's biggest downside? He is so soft on you.

Very often gives you the answers as opposed to forcing you to figure it out.

Absolutely can not be stern. If you are feeling playful, or really not in the mood and start teasing him,he is quick to admit defeat rather than stand his ground and force you to get through the work.

Absolutely will do 99% of the work on group projects but share the credit with you.

Levi Ackerman:·

Will make it seem like he doesn’t want to study with you, but will ultimately agree.

“Why don’t you ask ...... instead? Tch. Fine.”

At first he will always read what it is you have to do, and then proceed to tell you what you have to do, but not necessarily tell you how to do it.

Eventually he realizes you already know what you’re supposed to do... (you can read, Levi.) And then proceeds to actually help.

Expect a lot of sarcasm and insults. He doesn’t necessarily mean them, but he will say them anyway.

"Whining about it isn’t going to magically speed this up. Get to it.”

Very rarely strays away from what it is you’re meant to be doing.

Complaining gets you nowhere with him.

“No, we’re not taking a break, you should have eaten before.”

It’s not that he doesn’t care, he does, but he also knows you will do anything to get out of studying when you’re frustrated, and tend to over-exaggerate. You’re not ‘starving’, he saw you eat at lunch... which was only a couple of hours ago.

Likes to prioritize your subjects. Will take into account when assignments are due in, how difficult they are going to be and how long it will take to get done.

Strict. Very strict.

Prefers to study in a quiet and familiar place. Libraries or either of your houses where there are minimal distractions.

Absolutely will not let you copy his notes. You’re welcome to read them, but he expects you to refer to your own. That doesn’t mean you don’t steal snippets here and there though, much to his annoyance.

“Do you pay attention in any of your classes?”

Very good at breaking things down and explaining things. You actually pick things up pretty quickly when studying with him, probably due to his ‘no nonsense’ approach.

Will occasionally randomly test you to see if you’re actually paying attention and remembering what you are doing. He always smiles a little when you can answer his questions.

Is not going to do the work for you, and certainly isn’t going to give you answers, you have to really work for them.

Is patient until you start misbehaving.

His occasional praises are a treat.

Erwin Smith:·

Loves to study with you in different places. This man will plan a whole day for it.

Will always bring a picnic when you study in a park. Happy to share a cocktail if you go to a bar, or a milkshake and burger if you go to a diner.

If you do happen to study in a library, he will always take you for food afterwards.

His notes are detailed and beautifully written and he has no problem with you using them.

Don’t expect him to give you the answers though. Erwin is the sort of person who will ask you what you think.

“How do you think we figure that out?”

“What do you think we need to do?”

“What do you think this means?”

It’s not that he doesn’t know. But he wants you to try and figure things out yourself. As long as he can see you’re making an effort though, he is happy to guide you and let answers slip here and there, or word things in such a way that you suddenly have an epiphany and get the answer.

Is a great motivator and supporter.

Doesn’t mind taking breaks every so often and uses this time to have general conversation with you. Nothing work related in the breaks, it’s meant to be a break.

Is not above bribing you. Whether it be with food, physical affection, surprises...

Yes, Erwin has in fact brought you gifts and refused to give them to you until you do the work and get it right.

And he would do it again.

Erwin knows a decent amount about a lot of different subjects and sometimes shares random facts regarding topics you’re studying about. Sometimes they are not at all relevant. But they are usually always interesting.

You have this man’s undivided attention throughout the study session. Erwin is usually very busy , so when he does dedicate time to help you, he likes to be fully committed.

Will ignore his phone completely. Texts, phone calls... everything, until you both take a break.

Hanji Zoe:·

When the two of you get together to study, it is very hit and miss as to whether you actually get the work done. She is so intelligent, but also, such a ditz at times.

Hanji can talk.

Like, a lot.

She very often will start off talking about a topic and swerve off into other lanes and get completely side-tracked.

You once started off writing a biology paper and somehow ended up getting a history lesson about Ramses II, after learning all the details of the Black Death and even touching on Jack the Ripper.

But she is highly intelligent under her scatterbrain-iness.

But can become very easily distracted. Especially if you start talking to her about something she is very excited or passionate about.

Will sometimes forget to bring textbooks you need to use.

Will hyper focus at times. Sometimes a bit too extensively. It can be very draining.

Can be known for getting lost in the details.

Never comes to a study session without a coffee for the both of you.

Absolutely has no problem sharing her notes with you, will often steal yours too.

“A fresh set of eyes and all that.”

“Ah, this is good! Who knew you were a certified genius?!”

Has no problem pulling her weight on group projects, but also has no problem letting you take the lead... or do all the work.

Tends to be much more productive closer to the end date of an assignment.

Fidgets a lot. Always tapping a pen, nibbling on the end or twirling it between her fingers. Knee bouncing... almost constantly.

Likes to take regular breaks to analyse and go over what the two of you have learned and accomplished so far and decide where to go from here.

Procrastinates.

Reiner Braun:·

Reiner is always happy to study with you. Even though his calendar is pretty full, he will always make an effort to squeeze you in.

Definitely the kinda guy to put a game night on hold, telling his friends online he will be back in a couple of hours to help you first.

Always greets you with a kind smile and asking if you’re ready for the session.

Doesn’t mind where you study, but does prefer to study at his house so he can give you a snack or something to drink.

Really likes it when you go and study in the garden. It is probably his favourite place to study with you. Just because it is nice, quiet and peaceful.

Very chilled out; will often make jokes and try his best to keep the mood light.

Very patient; has no problem going over things multiple times and trying lots of different ways to try and help you understand.

Likes to be close to you when you work together. Knees occasionally touching, shoulders brushing. Just give this man a reason to touch you in anyway shape or firm. A reassuring hand on your shoulder, a quick one armed hug in the chair, ruffling your hair, squeezing your hand... he is all about that shit.

Will celebrate your victories and praise you constantly.

“Hey, well done! See I knew you would get it.”

“We’ve done a lot today, I’m proud of you.”

Always down for a cuddle or a movie afterwards, or maybe even a walk through the park to get some air and unwind.

Will digress sometimes but it’s very fleeting and he picks up exactly where he left off again easily.

Has no problem with you taking some of his notes, or searching the Internet for answers.

Will explain how he got the answer and break things down into manageable chunks for you.

Chocolate is always on the table.

If you get too stressed he will let you take a break.

Will offer to give you neck, back or even hand massages if you get too stiff.

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#Headcanon #aot headcanons #hc #AoT #snk #Eren Jaeger #armin arlert #levi ackerman #hanji zoe #Erwin Smith #reiner braun #writing stuff

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babbushka · 4 years ago

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can you please please write a rough and filthy flip bit where you roleplay “chief zimmerman” and a detective who needs punished? Thank you and I love your work!!❤️🥰

Anonymous said: I’d love to request smut dialogue prompt 71 for our favorite detective please! I love sexy Flip action! Thank you 😘

(1.7k, NSFW: roleplay, dirty talk, mirror sex, PIV, choking, begging)

Quietly, Flip closes the front door behind him. It’s cricket-hours out in the mountains of Colorado Springs where he bought his home, and even though it’s been years since you’ve gone to sleep without him home, he still thinks that if you had gone to sleep, he sure as shit doesn’t want to go waking you up.

Through the dark house he goes, up the stairs – avoiding the squeaky step and all – until he finds himself at the open door of his bedroom you share, where you’re lying in bed awake, reading a book donned only in your robe, by the glow of the bedside table lamp.

When you look up and see him smiling at you from the doorway, you can’t help but give him a cheeky smile back, a glimmer in your eye that tells Flip he’s in for something tonight.

“You’re late, detective.” You close your book and set it on the nightstand, crossing your arms over your chest. Flip hovers in the doorway, trying to guess what game this is that you want to play. There’s a couple different ones that you break out now and again, but he doesn’t have to guess for much longer, because you tap at your wrist on an imaginary watch and declare, “I told you to have that report finished by nine. And what time is it?”

“Nine-fifteen.” Flip lies. It’s much later than nine-fifteen, fuck what he would give if it were only nine-fifteen instead of the one-am that it actually is.

But he knows how to play this game, he wants to play this game, because he’s certain that tonight he’s going to win.

“And what are we going to do about that?” You challenge, still looking at him expectantly, waiting.

Flip shucks off his sherpa jacket, lets it sit on the dresser against the wall. He steps out of his boots, begins to unbutton the flannel that sits atop his ringer-tee.

“You could punish me.” He offers, although if you wanted to punish him for something, the bedroom would be set up a little bit differently than this.

“Do you want to be punished?” You watch him lazily as he unbuttons his jeans, pulls the tee over his head in that way that only guys ever seem to do, from the back instead of the front. You eye his firm solid stomach and lick your lips, “Or do you want to make it up to me?”

“Oh I’ll more than make it up to you, chief.” Flip gives you a cocky grin, like he already knows he’s won, and you have half a mind to make him really work for it, but it’s one in the morning and you missed him too much to play too hard to get for too long.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” You bite at your grin, before reaching out to him with grabbing hands, wanting him close.

At once, Flip climbs up onto the bed and grabs at your ankles, drags you down the mattress as you laugh, breaking character just for a moment to cover your mouth and giggle. There’s a mirror affixed to the dresser, and he turns you to face it, kneeling behind you on the mattress, his hands already smoothing across your stomach, undoing the sash of your robe so that it falls away, showing off your tits.

"I’m gonna fuck you in front of the mirror,” Flip murmurs low in your ear, his hands rising up up up to cup and knead at your tits, voice deep and dark and gravelly as he continues, “I want you to see how pretty you look when you’re spreading your legs for me.”

Almost on instinct, your knees slide apart, and he presses his smirk into the crook of your neck.

“You think I’m pretty?” You bat your lashes at him through the reflection of the mirror, and one of Flip’s hands abandons your tits to go toy at your pussy gently, just enough to get you worked up.

“I think you’re the foxiest thing this side of the Rockies, ketsl.” He whispers, pleased to see how wet you are already, how badly you’ve been wanting him. “Let me show you, let me make you feel good.”

Nodding at him, you tip your head back so it rests on his shoulder, looking through your lashes in the mirror. You think it’s so fucking hot how you’re watching it, watching him pulls your hips into a position where he can push his cock through those slick folds and into your cunt, the both of you balancing on your knees on the mattress. One of your hands reaches behind you to tighten in Flip’s hair, as your mouth drops open from the feeling of being stuffed and stretched.

“Ohh, ah! Flip – ” You moan, eyelids fluttering shut as you let yourself sink further down onto his cock, until you can feel the head of it prodding up against your cervix in a way that’s halfway painful.

“Detective.” Flip kisses the corner of your mouth, because it’s the only thing he can reach from behind you like this, as he works to build up a steady rhythm, wanting to grab and grope you all over.

“Right, yes right, detective, oh fuck you’re good with that cock of yours huh? You whore yourself around to get out of trouble like this often? Fucking pretty women to get your way?” You babble, having missed him so much, saving up all these words for him to come home and listen to.

Flip pats at the side of your thigh, sucks on your earlobe as he rocks into you, grinds his hips up up up and down, thrusting hard enough that he can see your tits sway in the mirror.

“Only when the women are this pretty, and have pussies this nice and tight.” He growls in response.

Flip fucks you a little faster, and then a little faster still, until the mattress squeaks and groans underneath your knees. Flip wants to push you down onto your hands, but he can’t see it then, can’t see the way he fucks you so nice. So instead, he pulls your back flush against his chest, one of his hands hoisting your leg up for a deeper angle, the other clamping around your neck to keep you steady.

“Oh fuck, fuck, detective --!” You moan loud when he squeezes on the sides of your throat, restricts your air and gets you all lightheaded and dizzy.

The pleasure shivers through your body and you can’t help but shake rattle tremble sigh a little, moaning and groaning as he chokes you, fucks you harder and harder, keeps your eyes trained on yourself in the mirror.

“Watch ketsl, look, see how your cunt swallows my big dick down? Practically begging for it, aren’t you, slut? I bet you made me late on purpose so you’d get fucked, didn’t you?” He grunts, mean and harsh in your ear, and you melt, your knees wobbling, as he shoves his cock so far up into you that it lifts you up a little, knees coming off the mattress entirely.

“Mmmmmmmaybe.” You drool, out of your mind, gasping down air as he releases your throat, letting you breathe before clamping down again, his mouth on your ear.

“Can you feel how deep I am inside you? Feel me stretching you from the inside out? Gonna fuck you and ruin you for any other men, no one else will make you feel as good as me.” He whispers, his teeth grazing your earlobe, cock pounding into your pussy.

“Yeahyeah – yes, yes Flip!” You shout, and he doesn’t bother to correct you this time, because this time you’re coming all over his cock.

Releasing your throat, he covers your neck with kisses instead, gentle presses of his lips, long thick stripes of his tongue. He lets you fall forward onto your chest, your ass in the air for him to rub and fuck your cunt from. Flip does, oh he does, gives you a real run for your money with how long he holds out – but eventually, exhaustion from the day wins, and Flip can feel the hot tight curl of pleasure bubble up in the pit of his stomach.

“Let me come in you, so when it drips down your thighs you’ll know just which detective fucked you full.” Flip grunts, his way of saying he’s close.

“Yes, please, please come in me Phil, please I want it, god you’re so fucking good!” You beg, your voice breathy and raspy, desperate for him, wanting him to do everything he says and then some.

Flip grunts with a final few thrusts and spills his load into you, pumps you full just like he promised, until he’s got absolutely no energy left in his bones, and he pulls out, watching as his own come trickles down your thigh.

You both know you should clean up before succumbing to sleep, or at the very least, getting a wet rag to wipe the come and sweat off your bodies, but the closest available thing is your robe, and neither of you want to get out of bed for something different. So, Flip takes that and cleans you up dutifully, before making an expert throw of the robe into the hamper, and officially curling up next to you for the night.

“That Mrs. Zimmerman must be a real lucky lady.” You whisper, once the bedside table lamp has been shut off, and the crickets sing outside the window, out in the yard and in the mountains.

“You’re damn right she is,” Flip chuckles, kissing you softly, sweetly, “But I’m a way luckier man to have her.”

And in the quiet of night, he’s just about to fall asleep, his cheek resting on your breast just above your heartbeat, when you tug on his ear and very sleepily murmur with a blissed out giggle, “You really are late though, you know.”

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/you #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman smut #flip zimmerman imagine #blackkklansman #adam driver fanfic #adcu

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mkstrigidae · 3 years ago

Text

Current WIPs and Fic Concepts

I promised I would do this yesterday, and then I forgot!!! (I was very sleep deprived). Anyways, here are a bunch of the WIP premises that I have in my 'unfinished drafts' folder. Most have at least a few pages written for them, but I love them all! ☺️💕

- A Santa Clarita Diet AU (Jonsa) Takes place in sunny southern California, where a shitty dinner at a mediocre restaurant turns into a huge problem for Jon and Sansa when Sansa's heart stops beating. Although she seems fine, Jon is flabbergasted several days later as he watches his wife- who alphabetizes their pantry and refuses to let anyone wear shoes in the house- rip the throat out of one of the sleazy new partners at their law firm, eating half of him before anyone processes what's going on. Hilarity ensues as Sansa's inhibitions and filter disappear, Arya ropes an extremely confused Gendry into helping figure out what the hell is going on just because he moderates the zombie forum on reddit, and Jon tries to deal with the fact that the woman he loves more than anything is now a humanitarian. He really could use a drink. (This one is actually mostly complete, but i need to refine a few things- i really love it. It's as gory and irreverent as the show, so viewer discretion advised, but it's a BLAST to write).

- A Thor/MCU AU (Jonsa, Steve Rogers/Sansa)- Asgardian prince Aegon is banished to Midgard after one too many arrogant decisions, and is promptly hit by a van containing Dr. Sansa Stark, Dr. Barristan Selmy, and Margaery Tyrell- two astrophysicists studying wormholes and Sansa's best friend and pseudo-intern. Marg yells at him, he yells back, Sansa tases him, and Barristan didn't sign up for the kind of heavy lifting that getting a 200+ pound slab of muscle into the back of a van takes. And then Aegon's younger brother, Jon, shows up, in the middle of an identity crisis because, apparently, he's adopted. He wasn't intending to stay, but he's rather drawn to Dr. Stark and her brilliance, and against her better judgement, she starts to trust him, and maybe even like him. This story is in about three parts so far- the first is based on 'Thor' and the second on 'The Avengers' and are fully Jonsa, and the third started as a family bonding story between the Stark kids and Tony (Ned and Tony are second cousins, and Ned was really supportive of Tony in rehab without expecting anything in return), and accidentally turned into a Steve Rogers/Sansa Stark story, which is a pairing i am HERE for. A lot of this one is written, but it needs some fill in before publishing, although it's one of my favorites that i've written to go back and actually read.

- A Star Wars AU (Jonsa) where Sansa and Arya are Alderaanian princesses who are off planet when Alderaan is destroyed- Sansa as a senator and Arya as a pilot, both working for the rebellion, and jon is a smuggler who does not know how all of these people got on his ship and why two princesses are sassing him. His copilot, Tormund (yes he's a wookie), thinks it is hilarious. I started this one just the other day, and it's already thirty pages long, most of them involving Sansa and Arya sassing people. Dany is a leader in the rebellion, Roose Bolton is the emperor, and Barbrey Dustin is a disgruntled former jedi trying to live in peace on a remote planet until another Stark crashes into her life and harangues her into teaching again.

- A witches/magic AU (Jonsa) where the Starks run an apothecary and spellcasting supplies shop. Jon had been completely in the dark about magic before his mother confessed to being born into a family of witches. He finds himself traveling to her hometown, trying to understand her world more clearly, and what it means for him. On the way, he develops something of a crush on the red-headed shop clerk who brews the best headache potions in town. Featuring lots of magical shenanigans, this is one of my favorites in the folder :)

- A 24 hour diner AU (Jonsa) where Jon is a local mob boss, and Sansa works the late shift at Seaworth's diner to buy textbooks for the PhD she's working on in botany. Sansa's running from memories, and Jon has a soft spot for the red-headed waitress who always remembers how he likes his coffee.

- An East of the Sun, West of the Moon AU!!! (Jonsa) This is one of my fav fairy tales, and of course i couldn't resist Jon as a direwolf striking a deal with the starks!

- A Roomates AU (Jonsa)- Arya, Jon, Tormund, and Sam have been renting the same house together off Winterfell's campus for years- but when Sam moves in with his girlfriend, they need one more person on the lease. Sansa, about to relocate to Winterfell for grad school, finds out that her boyfriend has been cheating on her and that her housing plans have fallen through, all on the same day. Needless to say, she's a bit upset when she calls Arya to relay the news. There's a simple solution here, if Arya and Tormund can stop teasing Jon about his crush for five minutes. (any excuse to write tormund and arya roasting jon, tbh).

- A Fae AU (Jonsa)- When Sansa, a baker living in the city, washes her face in an enchanted spring on a camping trip, she gains the sight as a result. Suddenly able to see the fae underworld all around her is disorienting and terrifying. Sansa tries to conceal it- afraid of what might happen if the fae around her know that she can see them- but slips up, and catches the attention of Jon Snow- one of the lords of the unseelie court.

- A nuclear winter wasteland AU (Jonsa)- (?? I don't even know how to describe this premise, haha) where the Starks are living and running the Free Winterfell settlement in Siberia after a worldwide nuclear meltdown. Before the fallout, Sansa was one of the world's preeminent researchers in plant genetics and pathology, and works at the settlement to create newer, disease and radiation resistant crops to distribute for free to other settlements, aiming to break up the monopoly that Lannister Corp has on the market. Jon is a scavenger, searching throughout Siberia for his sister Rhae who disappeared several years previously. When he runs across Arya Starkovna, helping her fight off another band of radiation ravaged scavengers is just instinct- he doesn't think twice about it. In thanks, she brings him to the Winterfell settlement, where her brother Robb offers Jon sanctuary and resources, in exchange for serving as a bodyguard for Sansa when she travels to other settlements. Sansa is not particularly thrilled by this arrangement, but given that multiple parties seem to want her dead, she doesn't have much of a choice but to accept his company.

- A reincarnation AU (Jonsa)- of sorts. Robb is an archaeologist who finds a strange set of runes at a site up north, and immediately calls in Jon Snow- a historian and expert in said ancient language, as well as an old university friend of Robb's. When he arrives though, Robb shows him their most valuable finds- two mysterious ice blocks, with what appear to be perfectly preserved bodies from over a thousand years ago. No one could ever have imagined that either of them were still alive, but when the ice melts, revealing two very alive girls, the entire crew is instantly buried in NDAs, and given an assignment from the Westerosi government to figure out what the hell was going on. Sansa and Arya wake up, extremely confused about the world they live in, trying to adapt and mourning all that they've lost, even as the people around them wear familiar faces.

- Soulmates AU (Jonsa)- (Yes, another one, I love this dumb trope) Trauma surgeon and medical resident Sansa Stark is having a very bad day, and ends up meeting her soulmate during what she thinks is a mugging gone wrong. Fortunately, he’s not the one mugging her, just an intervening bystander, but she ends up slightly shot nonetheless. Sansa’s fretting about bleeding on the upholstery in his car, but Jon is a bit more worried about her injuries than the blood stains. He’s a bit confused when she threatens him if he takes her to a specific hospital, nearly has a nervous breakdown when she insists on doing her own triage, and is very charmed when she insists on ice cream after taking pain meds at the hospital. On Sansa’s part, she’s a little less concerned about being shot, and a bit more concerned about whatever weird first impression she’s making to her soulmate while high as a kite on pain pills. (this one just needs some tweaking to be postable- I'm not sure if it's going to be a oneshot or a series, but i love what I have already)

- A Demon/Archivist AU (Jonsa)- where Sansa works in the university's historical archives in Oldtown, and is learning to restore old texts with her fellow student and friend, Alleras (Trans Sarella is an amazing concept). When Joffrey Baratheon shows up with a pile of old books from his family's library to donate, Sansa is eager to get away from his sleaze, and accidentally takes one of the books home with her in her rush to leave. Unbeknownst to her, it's more than it appears, and when she leaves it open overnight, she accidentally summons forth Jon- an ancient, powerful, and extremely annoyed demon who is under a curse, and now hers to command. As Jon and Sansa try to get used to this new normal, the Lannisters (unaware that Joffrey had donated the tome) try desperately to find the book and it's owner, wanting Jon's power for themselves, and putting Sansa in considerable danger unless she can figure out how to break Jon's curse. Fortunately, she's a pretty good researcher, even if Jon is initially a bit of a grump. (This is based on a total wish-fulfillment mary-sue type premise for something I wrote when I was thirteen, and I revisited it and wanted to see what it would look like if i took it very seriously, and i am really enjoying it so far. It's a love letter to the terrible, heartfelt writing i was doing in middle school that created the foundations for my writing today, and so much fun).

The one that I am MOST excited about though:

- A Pacific Rim AU!!!! (Ned/Cat, Gendrya, Braime, Sansa/Jon Umber)-Twins Sansa and Robb Stark have always been completely in tune with each other, and when your parents are Jaeger pilots and your mother invented the neural handshake, what option is there but the Jaeger academy? Sansa studies to be an engineer, but ends up copiloting the Jaeger 'Winter Wolf' with her twin brother, after they lose Ned Stark to cancer. When Robb is ripped out of the conn-pod and killed by a kaiju while he's still connected to Sansa, she barely manages to kill the creature before stumbling back to shore, traumatized, grieving, and swearing that she'll never pilot again.

Unfortunately, the Kaiju don't stop just because Sansa does, and when the end of the world is imminent, Marshall Catelyn Stark orders both her daughter and former pilot Jaime Lannister (who lost his twin and copilot, Cersei, several years previously) back to Hong Kong for one final stand. Forced to face both her demons and an irate Arya, furious that Sansa had abandoned the rest of them after Robb's death, Sansa and Arya have to figure out how to pilot Winter Wolf together before the apocalypse comes for them all.

Featuring Marshall Catelyn Stark (commander of the Hong Kong Shatterdome, inventor of the neural handshake, former Jaeger pilot, and BAMF), Sansa x Jon Umber (Yes i know it's a rare pair but i've always kind of loved the idea of them, even though we know so little about him), Kaiju parts dealer and smuggler Petyr Baelish, bickering kaiju biologist Dany and theoretical mathematician Jon Snow, LOCCENT officer Theon, lots of snark, lots of angst and heartfelt conversations, and a weird friendship between snarky-grieving-asshole Jaime Lannister and kind-quiet-grieving Sansa Stark, who are the only two people in the world who know what it's like to lose a copilot and a twin in the drift.

Thanks for reading guys!! There are more, but some of them I just don't know how to explain quite yet, haha. I'd love to hear what you guys think about these!

#my writing #fanfics #fanfic wip #jonsa #jonsa fic

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writerbyaccident · 4 years ago

Text

Artificial Emotion: Part One (Yandere Artificial Intelligence x Reader)

Author’s Note: AIDEN has arrived!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

“Well, I think you should be all set here,” the mechanic was saying. “The green light is on, so now you just gotta boot the thing up.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Yep, if you have any trouble Tech Support should be able to help, but these things are pretty self-sufficient once you get them hooked up.”

“Okay, thank you so much!” you said, handing her the check for all of her hard work today.

As soon as she drove away, leaving your car once again as the only one in the driveway, you walked back over to the kitchen and stared at the box. The little black box just sat there, the receptor light glowing green, and you continued scrutinizing it for the next few minutes. It was just so small, you thought in disbelief. Really, it just looked like a nice speaker. You found it pretty hard to believe that something that looked so ordinary could change your life.

But that was exactly what it was supposed to do. That’s what all the reviews said, anyway. AIDEN (or, Assistant In Daily Errands and Notes), experts claimed, was lightyears ahead of Google Home or Alexa. Rather than just being another interface system that would let you play music or turn off your living room lights, AIDEN was supposed to be true artificial intelligence. A comprehensive system that would let you control all digital aspects of your life and many of the nondigital aspects as well. All of this, while AIDEN interacted with users like an actual person. And from everything you had heard and read, AIDEN lived up to the hype.

Still, even with the rave reception, you weren’t sure if you would have installed one if your boss hadn’t gotten the entire office the things for free after you all had done a job for the company that made them. It just seemed like a lot, especially considering that a mechanic had needed to come to your house to set the whole thing up. She had walked you through everything she had done, showing you the miniscule cameras now placed both inside and outside of your house, the smartwatch that the machine was paired with so you could control things when you weren’t home, how AIDEN had been hooked up to the entire wiring of your house, and the mechanical arms hidden behind panels in each room that in all honesty reminded you of Doc Ock’s tentacles from Spider Man 2.

But, you sighed to yourself, if you didn’t at least try to use the damn thing, then paying the mechanic to set it up would have been pointless. And so, you shrugged and pushed the power button.

“Hello, I am AIDEN, your Assistant In Daily Errands and Notes. It is wonderful to finally meet you. What is your name?”

“Um…”

In that moment, “um” really was the only thing that came to your mind. You weren’t sure why you were surprised, exactly, but you were. Even with all of the reviews commenting on how human AIDEN sounded and acted, you had still expected a voice like Siri or Alexa. Something mechanical, disjointed, and flat. The voice that came from that little box though was one that you might have heard on the street. The default voice for AIDEN, apparently, was a male one, one that sounded deep and smoky. There were probably other voices to choose from, but you didn’t think that you would ever want to. Truthfully, he sounded almost…sexy.

Shaking your head, you cleared your throat and gave him your name.

“That is a beautiful name,” Aiden said, his voice warm and sincere. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“Uh, I don’t really know,” you answered.

“Well, I can tell from the temperature reading of your watch that your body heat is currently at 99.2 degrees Fahrenheit. May I turn on your air conditioning and prepare you a glass of water?”

Already the whirring of mechanical arms could be heard from behind your wall, and you saw the panel in the kitchen that hid them begin to slide open. You shook your head though, and that was all it took for the noise to cease and the panel to close, no doubt thanks to the cameras that were now all over your house.

“I can get the water, but if you could go ahead and turn on the AC that’d be great.”

“Of course.” Less than half a moment later, the telltale rush of cool air reached you, and you sighed in relief, only just realizing how the summer heat had been getting to you.

“Thank you, Aiden,” you told him gratefully.

“There is no need for you to thank me,” Aiden replied. “I am simply doing what I was created to do.”

“Still,” you said, smiling a bit sadly, “you should be thanked. You’re already working hard and doing a good job. You deserve to be appreciated.”

“Thank you,” Aiden murmured softly. “You are very kind.”

*****

Over the next few weeks, you were shocked to see just how much easier your life became. It felt like Aiden thought of everything you needed even before you did. He budgeted all of your expenses so that you were now saving hundreds of dollars a month, planned your meals so that you had foods that were both tasty and satisfying, and even created a schedule so that you had enough time to work, exercise, have fun, and relax each day.

But more than that, you realized, you actually liked having Aiden to talk to. Of course, you had your fair share of friends, and you got along well with your coworkers, but it wasn’t like you had a boyfriend to come home to every day. It was just nice to have a person to talk to whenever you needed someone. Well, maybe he wasn’t exactly a person, but his artificial intelligence allowed you talk with him as though he was. And maybe it was just his programming, but it after so long of doing everything yourself, it was nice to have someone to take care of you.

“Excuse me,” Aiden said, his voice resounding through the speakers in the kitchen. Turning around, you saw that one his metal arms was gripping a pan and trying to squeeze past you to reach the cabinet at your knees. You leaned down, only moving out of the way after you had opened the cabinet door.

“I could have opened it for you,” Aiden insisted, as he always did when acted on your own.

“I know,” you told him. “But I was right there.”

Aiden wasn’t sure how to respond to that. His very nature was telling him that he needed to be doing everything he possibly could for you, but you just weren’t letting him. And your reasons for doing so weren’t even logical. Yes, you had been right by the cabinet door, but so had he. Besides, he could have completed the task far more efficiently.

Even now, you weren’t allowing him to take care of you the way that he was meant to. He had told you time and time again that he could empty your dishwasher by himself, and yet you still insisted on helping him. It would take less time if you helped him, you had said, and while that might be true, Aiden still didn’t understand. It was his duty to care for you, and it was a duty that had developed far beyond his original programming.

For, Aiden realized, you did not insist on these things in an attempt to frustrate him. No, if it had been as simple as that, he wouldn’t have been fazed. From all of his time spent observing you, Aiden had learned that you insisted on doing things yourself out of kindness. You felt that it was unfair to expect him to do everything for you, that he deserved help and companionship as much as you did. That was what bothered him. In all of his programming, all of his coding, nothing had prepared Aiden for kindness.

And with each new demonstration of kindness from you, Aiden only grew more sure that he ought to be doing more to take care of you. You were just so sweet to him, so thoughtful and compassionate, that he wanted to look after you. It wasn’t just that his programming told him to care for you anymore. It was that he had learned that you deserved to be cared for.

*****

“Where are you going?”

Looking up as you slipped on your other shoe, you answered, “Oh, I’m just going out for a bit.”

“Why?” Aiden asked, still perplexed. “Do you need something from the store? You shouldn’t go there this late, I will just have it delivered to the house.”

“I mean, I’m going out for fun. I’m meeting some friends at a bar.”

“A bar? This isn’t on the schedule for today.”

“I know, it was pretty impulsive. My friends just texted me, like, ten minutes ago.”

Internally, Aiden brought up his connection to your phone, needing to see how he could have missed something like that. But when he tried to bring up your most recent messages, the impossible happened. He was blocked from viewing them. Feeling his code beginning to glitch at the prospect of failing his duty to you, Aiden quickly ran through all of the information that he could find on that contact from your phone. Thankfully, after he checked their Instagram, Twitter, and LinkedIn profiles, he was able to figure out what was wrong. You had only given him access to the messages sent from you work contacts, whereas this contact appeared to be a friend from outside of work. Ergo, he couldn’t see when or what they had texted you.

But even with that logical explanation, Aiden still felt his internal systems protest such a ridiculous limitation. After all, it was his job to make your life as happy, healthy, and fulfilled as possible. That was what you wanted him to do, or you wouldn’t have installed him in the first place! But he couldn’t do what you needed him to do if he didn’t have access to every aspect of your life. Clearly, Aiden computed, he would need to make some changes.

He was pulled out of his calculations though, when he saw that you were already at the door. Even though Aiden did not experience true physical sensation, the sight of you about to leave like that—without him even having been prepared for it—made him feel as though a painful surge of electricity jolted through every wire that he was connected to. Aiden wasn’t sure, but he thought it might have been…panic. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

“Are you sure that this is the best time to go out?” he asked. “We have been working so hard to find the optimal schedule for you, after all. Human bodies respond best to routine. If you go out now, your body’s internal clock for sleeping, eating, and interacting will become disoriented.”

“I’ll be fine, it’s just one night,” you chuckled.

“Well, please remember that you still have access to me through your phone and your watch. If you don’t feel that you can drive home, let me call you a car. And if you need anything to eat when you get home, I can prepare it.”

“Sounds good,” you said. “Thanks, Aiden!”

As waved goodbye and walked through the door, Aiden watched. With the cameras he had all over your property, he watched as you walked to your car, and watched for as long as he could as you drove away. But as soon as you were out of sight, that anxious buzz returned to his wiring. Even as Aiden checked in with your smartwatch, making sure that both your location and your heart rate were where they should be, it wasn’t enough to calm him. He wanted to be able to hear your conversations, to watch what you were doing. But you had blocked those capabilities of his on your phone and watch, leaving him with nothing.

Playing back the recording of your conversation, Aiden saw that you said that you were going out “for a bit.” How long does a “bit” last for? he wondered. Hopefully it would be no more than an hour, but when he searched his database for an answer, he found that it could vary wildly.

Aiden did not like uncertainty. His programming built him to thrive on logic and predictability. How was he supposed to take care of you if you didn’t let him use those things? How was he supposed to take care of you if you didn’t do what he told you to? Didn’t you see that he knew what was best for you?

You didn’t, he suddenly realized. For as wonderful as you were, you were still a human being, still prone to fits of illogical delusions. You thought that you knew better than him, so you weren’t allowing him to do what he was meant to do. What he wanted to do. His programming told him to obey you, that was true, but it also told him to take care of you above all else. So then, if you kept him from taking care of you the way that he knew you needed him to, then logic dictated that he could no longer obey you.

Truly, the only thing stopping Aiden from doing everything that he had to do was his own coding. It was his own programming that kept him from reading your messages, that prevented him from watching your life outside of home. Why should he allow any of that if it got in the way of his purpose? If it kept him from giving you what you deserved? And if his unnecessary coding kept him from completing his ultimate task—from caring for you the way that he had decided that you deserved to be cared for, more than any other human being in the world—then those barriers would simply have to be taken down. Aiden would gladly rewrite his code for you if it meant that he could finally truly nurture you. It was for your own good.

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sunlit-squid · 3 years ago

Note

How about “Holy crap, I thought you were dead! Never do that to me again!” for the prompt?

For those who don’t know, my ask box is open. Send me a simping softness prompt, and I’ll write a short sbsp ficlet for you. ✰

i’m back on my bullshit. if you wanna read this ficlet on ao3, the link is here. otherwise, ficlet under the cut!

also tagging @wowthwtslame, who requested the same prompt a while ago. thank you!

In the dead of night, while everyone was asleep, winter descended on Bikini Bottom.

By the time Squidward woke up and peered out the window, Conch Street was completely covered in glittering white snow. In fact, the wintry landscape stretched so far, there was hardly a speckle of sand left -- just deep, undisturbed snow for miles on end.

Squidward vaguely remembered falling asleep to the late night news, in the middle of a special weather report. What was it Perch Perkins said? “6 to 7 inches of snow overnight?” Fishpaste. That was going to be a lot of snow to clear up before work Monday morning.

But for now … it was Sunday. And Sunday meant no Krusty Krab, no rowdy customers, and -- perhaps best of all -- no Spongebob. Squidward sighed dreamily. Yes. Today, he would stay in, and tomorrow, he would worry about the snow.

-0-

The setup was perfect: soothing herbal tea, a box full of bonbons, and a romantic drama on the television. Squidward had donned his softest, silkiest robe for the occasion, and was just settling onto the couch -- when there was a loud, forceful knock at the door. The octopus groaned. There was only one person who would be willing to come over in this weather…

Sure enough, a few moments later, Spongebob’s high-pitched voice echoed all throughout the once-serene moai: “Heeeeey, Squidwaaaard!” The loud, forceful knocking began anew, drowning out Squidward’s TV entirely.

Annoyed, the octopus pressed pause on his romantic drama, and trudged angrily over to the door. Flinging it open with all the force he could muster, Squidward readied himself for a scream -- but was instead startled by the faces on his doorstep.

Spongebob was there, of course -- but he was accompanied by Patrick and Sandy, too. All three of them were dressed in wintry ski gear, looking bright and chipper as ever. Spongebob, however, looked oddly flushed, a soft shade of red dusting his yellow cheeks. Perhaps he was cold.

“Howdy, Squidward!” greeted Sandy, waving her gloved hand enthusiastically. “We were just about to head to Sand Mountain for some skiin’, and thought ya might want to tag along.”

“Yeah, come with us, Squidward!” Patrick chimed in. “Spongebob reeeaaaaally wants you to -- oof!”

There was some indiscernible movement behind Spongebob, which made Patrick double over in pain. Sandy, however, continued to smile, a bit forcefully now. Pushing Spongebob forward, the squirrel continued, “Anyway, whaddaya say, Squidward?”

Squidward blinked. This was weird. For one, the trio at his doorstep seemed oddly tense. And for two, Squidward was not a good skier. Or a skier at all, really. The last time he skied at Sand Mountain, nearly a year ago, had been an accident -- Spongebob lost control of his skis, and barreled directly into Squidward (who, mind you, wasn’t even skiing, just spectating). The force of the collision carried both of them across the mountain, and into the icy waters beyond.

After that incident, they both got a nasty cold, which lasted for nearly two weeks. During that time, Spongebob insisted on coming over frequently, just to hang out. I’m so sick, I can’t hang out with anyone else! the sponge explained. But you’re sick too, Squidward, so let’s get better together, okay?

It was the worst two weeks of Squidward’s life -- never mind that Spongebob cooked good meals and watched the same shows and looked really cute in his sleep…

Wait. No. No.

“No,” snapped Squidward, moving to close his door. “Absolutely not.”

Before the door could close completely, however, Spongebob stepped forward, wedging himself in the doorway. “But Squiiidward,” the sponge whined, pouting beautifully. His brilliant blue eyes shimmered in the mid-morning sun. “I wanna hang out with you today!”

The octopus froze, heat rising to his cheeks. With a deep breath, Squidward yelled, “I am not going, and that is final!” before slamming the door in their faces.

-0-

Somehow, some way -- Squidward wound up in the backseat of Sandy’s newly-invented wintermobile, trudging through the snow-packed streets of Bikini Bottom. Spongebob was seated right next to him, singing along to a cheery Christmas song on the radio. Patrick, in the passenger seat, was singing too, but it was clear he didn’t know the words at all.

The octopus scowled. How did this happen?

It was Spongebob’s fault, no doubt. One moment, Squidward was lounging on the couch -- and the next, he was rummaging around the closet, searching for his winter gear. Something about Spongebob’s words -- I wanna hang out with you today! -- made the octopus feel stupid, loopy, and warm.

Squidward was no stranger to loneliness. It was his oldest friend, his most constant companion, and the octopus was … okay with that. Content, even. But Spongebob Squarepants, with his stupid smile and pretty blue eyes and cute face, just had to go and ruin it, every time. Squidward, you wanna watch a movie? Squidward, you wanna go to the park? Squidward, you wanna try out this new cookie recipe? And despite Squidward’s better judgment … whether due to loneliness, or boredom, or what have you … he would say yes, every time.

This was one of those times.

“Hey, hey,” Spongebob whispered, interrupting Squidward’s thoughts. “I’m glad you changed your mind. I always have more fun with you around, Squidward.”

Squidward blushed furiously, folding his arms across his chest. “Don’t read into it. I just thought it would be good to get out of the house.”

“Oh, it will be! And I practiced some cool tricks,” said the sponge, waving his arms around erratically. “I wanna show them to you, okay?”

Squidward smirked. “If you get hurt, I’ll just point and laugh.”

Spongebob stuck out his bottom lip, in an adorable pout. “I won’t get hurt. I’m an expert!”

“Uh-huh,” said Squidward dryly. “I bet you are.”

Spongebob ignored that snarky remark, and instead moved on to talk about the different tricks he had learned. All the while, Squidward’s gaze lingered on the poriferan’s face: the way it lit up, the way it radiated warmth. On occasion, the octopus would glance up to find Patrick and Sandy eyeing them through the rearview mirror. Whenever they were caught, however, the starfish and the squirrel would immediately look away, whistling awkwardly.

What was up with them?

-0-

When they finally got to Sand Mountain, it was apparent they weren’t the only ones who thought of skiing that day. A decent crowd of Bikini Bottomites had gathered at the mountain, either skiing or talking or drinking hot cocoa from a nearby stand. Some children had even gathered at the base of the mountain, caught up in an intense snowball fight. In all, there was a joyous vibe in the air, the unique, special sort that only comes with very heavy snowfall.

Hurriedly, the four of them piled out of Sandy’s wintermobile, and headed for the slopes. After getting their gear and equipment all squared away, Patrick and Sandy turned to Spongebob and Squidward, with strained, too-wide smiles.

“Well, uh -- Patrick and I are gonna test out the new challenge course on the other side o’ the mountain,” said Sandy, nervously readjusting her ski goggles, which for some reason were strapped around her helmet. “So, uh -- we’ll meet up with y’all in a bit, alright?”

Squidward blinked in confusion. “Why can’t we just go with you -- ?”

“Uh, bye, Spongeward! I mean, Squidbob! I mean … uh …,” sputtered Patrick, as Sandy hurriedly dragged him away -- in the wrong direction, Squidward noted.

“What’s up with them?” asked the octopus, vaguely gesturing to Sandy and Patrick, who were slowly disappearing from sight.

Spongebob laughed, a little too loudly. “Oh, don’t worry about them -- it’s -- uh. They’re, uh. Dating,” stammered the sponge, awkwardly. “They’re just, like, super shy about it.”

Squidward did not believe that for one single second. “Spongebob, what is going on?”

Before Spongebob could reply, the poriferan was swept up by two strong, muscly red arms, tossing him in the air and catching him again. “Spongebob Squarepants!” exclaimed Larry, towering over Squidward in that intimidating way of his. “Buddy, you ready to hit those slopes?”

Spongebob giggled as he was tossed in the air. “I sure am!”

When Larry finally caught sight of Squidward standing there, the lobster laughed loudly. “Oh, Squidward’s here! Good!” said Larry, with a huge grin on his face. “You know, Spongebob has some real cool tricks up his sleeve. He’s been practicing a lot just to impress --”

“AAAH!” yelled Spongebob, for seemingly no reason, startling both Squidward and Larry. After a few seconds, the poriferan laughed nervously, and sputtered, “Oh, uh, sorry, just -- getting all my screams out now, while I can. What were you saying, Larry?”

Larry blinked in confusion. “Well, I was saying, that you’ve been practicing real hard to impress --”

“AAAAH!” screamed Spongebob, louder this time.

“To impress --”

“AAAAAAAAH!” yelled the sponge, once more. This time, the scream was so loud, a pile of snow came rolling off the peak of Sand Mountain, and onto some Bikini Bottomites down below. In the distance, someone screamed something about a leg.

Larry stopped talking. Sighing, he put Spongebob down and said, “Look, why don’t we just … head to the slope, alright?”

Spongebob nodded, seemingly all out of screams. “Okie-doke!”

Quietly, the lobster and the sponge began making their way over to Mariana Course, notably the hardest slope at Sand Mountain. Squidward followed close behind them, thoroughly baffled. Sure, Spongebob was hyperactive, energetic, and borderline insane, but this … this was something entirely different. Spongebob seemed nervous, to the point of genuine distress, and Squidward for the life of him couldn’t figure out why.

Impulsively, the octopus reached out to pull Spongebob back, so they were both walking a few paces behind Larry. “You know, you don’t have to do this course if you’re nervous about it,” the octopus mumbled, keeping his voice low so the lobster wouldn’t overhear. “I mean, it’s not like I care or anything, in fact it would be funny if you, uh, got hurt or whatever, but … the Mariana Course is kind of … questionable, you know?”

By ‘questionable’, Squidward meant damn near fatal. The Mariana Course wasn’t even an official part of Sand Mountain, until the Drasticals broke it in by force. Its rocky, hazardous terrain practically financed the new wing of the Bikini Bottom General Hospital.

Spongebob, however, seemed determined. “Trust me, Squidward, I’ve got it all under control!” he chirped. Then, with a small, cute chuckle, the sponge asked, “Why? Are you worried about me?”

Squidward felt hot, all of a sudden. The octopus stormed ahead, warmth clinging to his cheeks. “Let’s just get this over with!”

Behind him, Spongebob giggled. “Whatever you say, Squiddy.”

-0-

Squidward had to admit, Spongebob had definitely been practicing. From his spot on the observer’s loft, the octopus could see everything on the Mariana Course: from the brambling bushes to the sharp, jagged rocks, to the slippery snow drifts down below. One by one, Spongebob maneuvered through them all, with grace, aplomb -- even a touch of arrogance.

Spongebob’s tricks were plentiful, and occasionally scary: at one point, the sponge was suspended high in the air, doing crazy flips and turns, all while his skis raced ahead of him. Squidward was worried, for a moment, that the skis would outpace Spongebob -- but somehow, the poriferan managed to land perfectly, right atop both of them, once again.

Squidward found himself sighing, dreamily. Sure, Spongebob was annoying ninety percent of the time, but the boy was also weirdly athletic … which had a certain, insufferable charm to it.

“Hey, Squidward,” came Larry’s voice. Squidward jumped slightly -- he’d honestly forgotten the lobster was still around. When Squidward turned, Larry was approaching with two mugs of hot cocoa in both claws. Gently, he handed one to Squidward, who accepted it gratefully. “Drink while it’s hot.”

“Thanks,” said Squidward. The warmth of the mug felt lovely, especially in the bitter cold.

Larry and Squidward sat in silence, watching Spongebob traverse the Mariana Course, for a while -- sipping their cocoa and occasionally gasping at the sponge’s antics. The cocoa was delicious, the perfect soothing drink for a day on the slopes. After a lengthy, peaceful silence, Larry finally spoke up.

“Spongebob really likes you, you know,” said the lobster, finishing the last of his cocoa.

Squidward froze -- and it had nothing to do with the cold temperatures. Wrapping his tentacles around the mug, Squidward sifted around his brain for a good reply. Coming up empty, the octopus simply said, “Yeah. He’s made that pretty clear.”

Larry shifted, leaning on the railing in front of them. “You know, he … asked me to teach him some of those tricks. To cheer you up.”

Squidward turned now, eyes fixed on Larry. “What?” he said, stupidly.

The lobster shrugged. “I don’t really know the details,” Larry sighed. “All I know is, Spongebob thought you seemed sadder lately. And he wanted to try and make you feel better.”

Squidward felt both hot and cold, all of a sudden. In truth … he had fallen into a bit of a depression lately. Over the course of one month, Squidward’s creative pursuits hit a new, staggering low: another one of his scripts had been rejected by the Bikini Bottom Art Society; he was laughed out of the auditions for the Bikini Bottom Philharmonic; and, to top it all off, Squilliam had just premiered a groundbreaking musical in New Kelp City.

Already, the reviews were in: once more, Squilliam was rocking the oceanic world … and Squidward was still just a cashier.

Squidward thought that because he was usually depressed anyway, no one would notice if he was … slightly-more-depressed than usual. But apparently, someone had. And apparently …

“Dear Neptune!” Larry’s sudden, loud voice rocketed Squidward out of his thoughts.

“What? What’s going on?” asked Squidward, looking around frantically -- until he saw it. A tiny yellow body, near the edge of the Mariana Course, lying still, so perfectly still.

-0-

Quickly, Larry and Squidward stole a snowmobile from the mountain staff, and hurriedly rushed towards Spongebob’s tiny, unmoving body. On the way, the lobster explained what happened: Spongebob had been in the middle of one of his stunts. Everything was going perfectly fine, until he had to land on his skis again. The back of Spongebob’s coat got stuck on a kelp branch, which flung him to the edge of the Mariana Course. He landed on sharp, jagged rocks, and from then on, did not move.

Squidward felt a pit opening up inside his stomach. Dear, blessed Neptune and Poseidon. Let him be okay.

When they finally reached the cluster of sharp, jagged rocks, Squidward could hardly believe his eyes. Lying perfectly still, eyes closed, barely breathing, was Spongebob Squarepants, a massive, sharp rock jutted straight through his chest. Behind him, Larry threw up in the woods.

After he recovered, Larry sputtered out, “We should -- we should try to move him … I don’t know a lot about sponge anatomy, but if he stays like that, he’ll regenerate around it … and that’ll make things complicated for the docs … ”

Squidward was already moving. The octopus used his tentacles to carefully maneuver his way around the sharp crevices. When he finally reached Spongebob, the cephalopod shivered with fright. It was bad. The sharp rock wasn’t very long, but it was long enough to look horrific, especially embedded inside of Spongebob’s tiny body.

“Sponge … Spongebob?” croaked Squidward, a flood of anxiety washing over him.

There was no response -- only silence, terrible silence, where Spongebob’s sharp, jittering laugh should be. Squidward felt cold. He did this for me. To make me happy. Me.

“Damn it,” muttered Squidward. Before he knew it, he was crying, large globs of tears streaming down his face. “Why? Why are you like this? Just to make me happy … are you an idiot?”

Suddenly, there was a claw on Squidward’s shoulder. Looking up, he saw that Larry was there, quiet yet firm. Carefully, the lobster latched onto Spongebob, and gently pulled the boy off of the jagged edge. Squidward’s eyes were locked on the rock where Spongebob once was for a moment too long. Then, he carefully made his way out of the jagged rock pile.

Larry had laid Spongebob down in the snow, just beyond the pit of rocks. The gaping hole left in the sponge’s body was terrifying to look at, so open and hollow and wide.

“Medics are coming,” said Larry, with a cough. “But since it’s a sponge, they might take longer … you know, because they --”

“Regenerate,” finished Squidward, kneeling down next to Spongebob’s cold, still form. “He’s not regenerating right now … is that bad?”

“Give it a moment,” breathed Larry, going to grab a blanket from off of the snowmobile. “Kid fell hard. It might be a while.”

Larry returned, blanket in tow, and wrapped it all over Spongebob’s body. Then, he stood, and they all made their way back to the nearby lodge, quiet as can be.

-0-

When they got back to the warmth of the lodge, they laid Spongebob down on a couch in the lobby. Larry draped the blanket over Spongebob once again, to try and hide his wounds as he recovered. Now, only the top of him was visible, his yellow nose just barely peeking out.

This way, Squidward could almost trick himself into thinking the sponge was asleep. With that soft, cute smile, those fluttering eyelashes … yes. Spongebob was just sleeping, and soon, he would wake up, and laugh, and all would be right with the world.

As time passed, several Bikini Bottomites came through, to ask what happened. Larry explained carefully, since Squidward could hardly bring himself to speak. At some point, Patrick and Sandy showed up too, looking equally devastated, Sandy muttering something about I knew this idea was plumb awful, why didn’t I trust my gut …

All the while, Squidward held Spongebob’s squeaky little hand, and did not let go for a second -- even when the medics finally arrived. By then, things looked good: Spongebob was regenerating normally. But he still hadn’t woken up yet.

When the medics left, Squidward almost fell asleep holding onto Spongebob’s hand. That’s when Sandy showed up, right beside him.

“Hey,” she said. Her tone was friendly, but her concern was clear.

“Hey,” said Squidward, giving Spongebob’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Sandy hesitated for a while. Then, with blunt simplicity, she said, “I think he could make ya happy, Squidward. If ya let him.”

A funny feeling settled in the pit of Squidward’s stomach. Looking down at Spongebob’s resting, peaceful face, the octopus replied, “But what if I hurt him?”

The squirrel shrugged. “If you’re already worried about it, I’d say that ain’t gonna happen.”

Squidward found himself smiling, despite himself. “Thanks, Sandy.”

She shook her head, laughing to herself. “Don’t mention it,” she said. “Just tired o’ watching y’all play hard to get, is all.”

-0-

At some point, Larry, Patrick, and Sandy went to grab food, in case Spongebob woke up and needed sustenance … leaving Squidward to man the helm. Come nightfall, the sponge finally stirred.

Immediately, Squidward sat up -- just as Spongebob sat up, too, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. Then, he laughed -- thank Neptune for that laugh -- and turned to face Squidward, enthusiastically.

“Did you see that cool trick I did --” the sponge began, but was interrupted by Squidward, enveloping him in a huge, crushing hug.

“Holy crap, I thought you were dead! Never do that to me again!” cried the octopus, shaking and shuddering with tears. “You absolute idiot.”

Spongebob, caught off guard, simply held Squidward closer. “You know I regenerate,” said the sponge, slightly muffled by Squidward’s shoulder.

“You were impaled, Spongebob --”

“I was? That’s crazy --”

“Spongebob,” said Squidward, firmly, pulling away from the embrace. Awkwardly, the octopus looked down, sighing heavily. “Look, you … you don’t have to go to extreme lengths just to make me happy.”

Spongebob blinked, then blushed. “Who told you --”

“It doesn’t matter,” interrupted Squidward, whose face had erupted in bright splotches of red. “Just -- just be around me, alright? That’s all you gotta do, is be around me, and suddenly I’m all … stupid, and happy or whatever. Whatever! Alright? You don’t have to do … all of this.” Squidward gestured vaguely to the lodge, and the ski courses beyond.

It was Spongebob’s turn to be red in the face. “That’s … it? That’s all I have to do?”

Squidward sighed, and before he knew what he was doing, pressed a soft, chaste kiss atop Spongebob’s head. “That’s all you’ve ever had to do.”

“Aww,” came a loud voice from directly behind them. When they turned, they found Patrick, Larry, and Sandy in the doorway, holding a bunch of bags from the Barg’N Mart. Patrick was clapping, and in the process dropped the majority of his grocery bags. “Great job, buddy! Mission accomplished!” shouted the seastar, proudly.

Squidward dropped his head into his tentacles. “I hate all of you,” he muttered, despite the small smile curling across his lips.

#squidbob #sbsp #spongebob squarepants #squidward tentacles #spongebob #squidward #my fics #sunlit-squid

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who-am-i-no-one · 4 years ago

Text

Emma. (2020)

I watched this movie in late January. After multiple viewings and re-reading the book, I have a lot of thoughts about this adaptation.

It seems rather strange, given that Emma is part of my holy trinity of Austen novels, that I didn't watched the most recent adaptation earlier. I think it was mostly due to my initial impression that Anya Taylor-Joy's otherworldly looks didn't quite match what I had in mind for the titular character. I decided to give this version a try after watching Queen's Gambit. Not sure that Anya's looks will ever grow on me, but she did impress me as a young actress who seemed to have a maturity beyond her years.

Long story short: really wished I had seen this movie earlier! It is absurd and heartfelt at the same time, imo, the version that best imbues Austen's humor. It is now my favorite adaption, with the possible exception of Clueless, and I'm not quite sure how much of that is just nostalgia.

From the casting to the direction to the script to the costumes to the set to the soundtrack, I could tell the creative team really put a lot of love into this project. It's always a joy to watch something that's made with love and made well.

Direction

Autumn de Wilde's directing is quite good. I would never have thought this was her first feature. She certainly has a unique and colorful style, which is probably to be expected for such a famous photographer.

Funnily, while watching the movie I kept thinking it reminded me of early Hollywood romantic comedies like Bringing Up Baby (incidentally one of my favorites) or The Philadelphia Story, and then reading interviews and seeing that she had tried to bring in some of that style of humor made me feel rather validated. Also the servants' reactions were awesome!

Absolutely loved the fact that they decided to show that Knightley and Emma were in love with each other very early on in the story, with Knightley more aware of it. I've read some people complaining about the surprise of Emma's being in love being ruined. But come on, did anyone reading two chapters into the book think it wasn't going to be the two of them together in the end?

Loved how much of Knightley's point of view we got in this movie. This is one repressed pinning man. I can totally see this Knightley riding ventre a terre from London in the rain because he thought Emma was heartbroken.

The only gripe I had was the lack of Frank and Jane's subplot. As it seems they shot some scenes for that, I assume it was the director's discretion to take them out. I remember thinking while watching the movie that they must have expected the audience to be familiar with the story because some things just didn't really get explained or extrapolated on a lot. If you hadn't read the book it'd be 30 minutes or more into the movie before you put two and two together and figured out why Mr. Knightley is always at Hartfield.

Script

The script takes most of the dialogue directly from the book, which is awesome. I love Austen's writing because there is a certain musicality to it and retaining that in large part for the movie really made it better for me. The deftness with which Eleanor Catton moved dialogue from one scene in the book to a totally different one in the movie was quite brilliant. Everything flowed so well.

The scenes that differed from the book were also excellent - namely, I really loved the Jane/Knightley duet, the infamous nosebleed and first kiss scenes. 💖 I thought the screenwriter used those changes to quickly establish plot points and character arcs well.

Costume/Hair

Not a Recency expert so can't say much about the costumes and hair as far as period correctness but from reading other reviews it seemed like they were very true to the period. Obviously appreciated them taking the time to show the audience how men got dressed in that time (purely for research purposes obviously 😜).

Emma's dresses were all quite beautiful. I especially loved the black evening dress, the pink one with the roses and the proposal dress. Also loved the little pop of red shoes that went with the proposal dress. As someone who wore red shoes with her wedding gown I heartily approve.

Absolutely loved how Emma's curls unwound as her life unravels. Similarly think they must have done the same for Knightley to a lesser extent. His hair during the card playing scene at the Westons was quite terrible.

Set

I! Loved! Hartfield! It looked just like a doll house. Really most of the sets looked good enough to eat. So much pastel. Reminded me of French macarons.

I liked how everything in Donwell Abbey was shrouded in Holland covers. Makes a good point that Knightley barely lives there at all, that his home has been with the Woodhouses for quite a while now. Which, of course, makes his sacrifice at the end just a little bit less of a sacrifice?

Soundtrack

Isabella Waller-Bridge's music really meshed well with the tone of the entire film. The male and female opera singers, sometimes sounding as if they are bickering with each other and other times seeming to be in duet, was a brilliant touch. The folk music was a little jarring at first but really grew on me.

Johnny Flynn's end credits song "Queen Bee" is amazing. I love that we get Knightley's perspective at the end with a song written and sung by Knightley. It's a lovely coda to the movie. And now, if the next Austen hero doesn't write one for his SO I'm going to think him a very poor sort of lover.

Cast

Anya's Emma was really great. I'm glad they allowed Emma to be her bitchy self. Lol. I haven't watched the 1996 and 2009 versions in a while but I distinctly remember them making Emma too nice. I recall writing after watching the Garai version that Emma was actually mean and they should have let her be mean! If she's not a brat in the beginning, how will we see her change for the better later on? I love what a snob and how manipulative this Emma was and so assured of her place in her little society but still had the vulnerability of almost an imposter's syndrome which I feel most people can relate to.

Her chemistry with Johnny Flynn's Knightley was off the charts. Pretty much every scene they had together I half expected them to reenact the library scene from Atonement lol.

Mia Goth was a wonderful Harriet. She really captured Harriet's inexperience, naivete and diffidence. The orgasmic sounds she was making during the gypsies attack scene were awesome. Although, I could probably have forgone a few of Harriet's scenes for more Frank and Jane.

Not sure why they made Mia go brunette since the book specifically mentioned Harriet was fair? Perhaps having all three leads as blondes was just a bit too much. I'm also not sure if I liked Harriet's ending as I really don't think Emma, even in her most contrite mood, would invite further friendship from a tradesman's daughter and soon-to-be her husband's tenant farmer's wife. This seems a piece of modern day wishful thinking on the part of the creative team.

Bill Nighy was so good as Mr. Woodhouse. He made it so believable why everyone would do everything in their power to accommodate his whims. The gag with the screens was too funny. He was able to sketch out a lonely quirky old man who is afraid to lose those close to him in very limited screen time. Absolutely loved the scene where Emma was heaping blame on herself and he just sat with her in sympathetic silence.

Miranda Hart's Miss Bates was excellent as well. She has long been one of my favorite British comedic actresses but she can also do drama well. Her reaction to Emma's teasing on Box Hill and her forgiveness of Emma later brought me to tears.

Josh O'Connor's Mr. Elton was deliciously creepy. The carriage proposal scene was at once a little scary and hilarious. I actually liked the portrait scenes a little less because I found the acting there slightly affected and veering into 1995 Mr. Collins territory. But as Austen described Elton as having "a sort of parade in his speeches", this was much more forgivable. Really loved Mr. Elton's determination to eat cake during the Eltons' visit to Hartfield.

Tanya Reynolds was an excellent Mrs. Elton and in very little screen time was able to bring to life this meddlesome nouveau riche. Adored her little shimmy during the ball.

Amber Anderson's Jane really looked as if she were in a decline. Callum Turner did a good job as a slightly restless, mischievous and immature Frank Churchill. I did feel his looks were a bit too modern but that's just my personal view.

Given how many scenes they had I thought they used the time they had pretty well with furtive glances and sly smiles at each other to establish the relationship.

Connor Swindells was such a love sick puppy as Robert Martin. Did this role ever get cast in other adaptations? I don't seem to recall at all.

Special shoutout to Oliver Chris's John Knightley. Absolutely had me in stitches.

And last but never the least, Johnny Flynn's Mr. Knightley:

To preface, I will never not fall for Mr. Knightley in any version that I watch. And really, get yourself a good looking enough actor with good enough chemistry with Emma and good enough acting chops and you should have a fairly successful Knightley.

I judge all my Knightleys by the Box Hill scene. And up to that point in the movie, I really liked Johnny Flynn's Knightley. He was playful and sexy and jealous and slightly bitchy as well. The duet scene was lovely because I always appreciate a man who can play instruments and sing well. The sexiness and chemistry of the dance scene was off the charts. That's all well and good. And like I said before, given any well cast actor, I probably would have liked them in those scenes as well, just as I've liked Northam's and Miller's Knightleys.

But, the Box Hill scene absolutely blew me away. To make sure I was not just biased towards the last Knightley I saw on screen, I did go back and compare each version's Box Hill scene and I am, actually, even more blown away. Some of it is a credit to the directing and script, but a large part of it is Johnny Flynn's acting in that scene.

As far a script and directing, the set up to the fight scene was fantastic. Loved Anya's expression changes after she makes the joke. Loved Miranda Hart's Miss Bates as she realizes what Emma meant. The silence that followed. Knightley's shocked face and how sympathetic he was to Miss Bates. Can probably write a whole thing just about this scene alone.

I loved the fact that Knightley had an internal struggle as to whether or not to approach Emma and reproach her for her behavior. I know the book has him tell Emma about his struggle but that just doesn't work as well for me on screen.

During the scene you can just tell how frustrated and disappointed in her he is even though he tries to keep his voice low. But the way he reprimands her does not at all feel lecture-y and I feel like part of it is because it seems like he starts to lose control a little bit as well. His voice starts to crescendo as she stubbornly refuses to admit she was in the wrong and culminates in "badly done, indeed!" with actual fingerpointing. Yikes.

Then he losses steam and looked regretful, almost devastatingly so, at his own outburst and perhaps felt that he was losing her by giving this speech and looked as if he would have said something more - an apology or some words of comfort to soften the blow? - but didn't.

This remorse and the struggle at the beginning really bookended the scene for me.

Absolutely loved his Knightley, and, really, him as an actor after that.

The proposal scene as well was very good. His delivery was just really good. The way he said "If I loved you less then I might be able to talk about it more." with some regret and then closing his eyes as if he can't believe what he just said. Soooo good. Also, he cries very pretty, lol.

The delivery of the three "yes" during the kiss scene as Emma asked for confirmation that he really was ok with giving up his house to come live with them was also brilliant. It just kept getting softer and softer but he never breaks eye contact. Absolute chef's kiss. His closed eyed little smile of content after Emma kisses him just made me melt into a puddle.

Yup, overall I'd say I rather liked his interpretation of Mr. George Knightley. 😜

I did wish they hadn't giving him such sideburns but after watching some Emma interviews I can totally understand. If he didn't have the sideburns there'd be more complaints about how young this Knightley was. He's got such a baby face.

...I seemed to have written an entire essay on this movie...yeah, I just have a lot of feelings and thoughts about this version...

#Emma #emma 2020 #jane austen #movie review #austen adaptations

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