#he did not make the best decisions in his life

[nicsnort]

Rule of Three

NSFW 18+ male incubus x female reader

Word Count: 4099

Sequel to Sex Therapist - highly recommend reading it before this one

Contains: Anal sex, vaginal sex, overstimulation, hypnosis/trance, praise kink, light cuckolding, demon sex, soul bond, oral sex

Your dreams have been haunted by pleasure, nearly driving you insane. You would give anything to see him again, even your soul.

~

You had been plagued with strange dreams since you had broken up with your boyfriend. The relationship counselor the two of you had gone to had initially done wonders - though you admit that meeting was a bit of a blur. However, after you had gotten out, the sex life between you and your boyfriend had improved drastically…sort of. 

You were happy to give him a blowjob whenever he wanted, and you realized that you enjoyed it. But something was always missing. Even as your nose was pressed against his pubic hair and his jizz squirted down your throat, you found yourself wanting more - a bigger cock straining your mouth, bumps on the shaft to stimulate your tongue, enough cum that you could feel it burning in your stomach. Even so, you found yourself dripping wet after each blowjob, so you didn’t mind too much.

And best of all, he had started reciprocating oral sex with you, and he was okay at it. He could sometimes make you have a small orgasm. But even those were disappointing compared to what you could do yourself.

Still, you expanded your sexual repertoire. The two of you tried anal sex. After a few tries and another visit to the relationship counselor, you found yourself loving that as well, but still never enough to make you orgasm. Sometimes he would get you close to cumming, but you always needed just a bit more that he could never deliver.

He had become quite passionate during vaginal sex. You tried with all your might to enjoy it, but even compared to before, you found him lacking. All he did was use you like a sex doll to thrust into. So, you went back to the counselor again. Each of your three visits was a blur when you thought back to them, but after each one, some part of your sex life improved. You were more sensitive, always ready to fuck. Still, you wanted more.

Yet, even as you fucked more than you ever had in the past, your boyfriend didn’t seem content either. In fact, many of the times he fucked you, it was an angry fuck. Like he was trying to prove something or even punish you. And after a time, his continual failed attempts to make you cum were enough. You had to admit it - this relationship wasn’t working out.

That turned out to be the best decision you could have made. He had yelled at you when you broke it off. All of his insecurities about your sex life and his inability to find another job came out in a single moment. That was what this was all about. He didn’t feel “manly” enough because he couldn’t make you cum. He wanted you to do everything for him while making him feel like the provider without a job. You had slapped him across the face for daring to treat you like that and left him behind for good.

That is when the dreams started. A beautiful man whose face you could never quite remember. And pleasure. Endless pleasure. 

You knew the dreams were always the same, even as the details slipped from your mind upon waking. And you always awoke with your pussy gushing, desperate to masturbate lest you lose your mind from need. Though you rode your toys, desperately thrust them in and out of you, and drained your vibrator’s battery several times, it was never enough. You needed something else. You needed more.

Thoughts of this man began to haunt your waking hours. You swore that any time you started to relax, you felt hands ghosting over you. Good girl. While sitting, you felt empty inside your pussy yearning for a cock. So needy. When all was quiet, you could hear echoes of a whisper. Call for me, pet.

You headed to bed, eager for your dreams to begin. As you lay on your bed, feeling your body relax, something felt different. This time, you would finally get what you wanted, you were sure.

Slipping into slumber, you soon found yourself on your knees, sucking a man’s cock while he sat on a chair. The cock of your dreams. The man of your dreams. You undressed before him and sat on his lap. He displayed your body to the watcher on the couch - your ex-boyfriend - and began to pleasure you. As he played with your body, he spoke truths in your ear.

“He could never make you come…He could never make you feel like I do.”

A mind-shattering orgasm without any insertion at all.

“I think I am going to keep you…but to keep you is not a choice I can make alone. And I do have a deal to maintain.” The man spoke to your ex-boyfriend. “As agreed, she will happily suck your cock now; given how eager she was, the fault certainly was with you. But know that she is still her own person, I cannot take away her free will. Everything she did and said was true to her soul; she sucked my cock because she wanted to. The trance merely freed her desires. If you cannot please and keep her, that is on you.”

The scene shifted. You were bent over, on your hands and knees. Slick fingers probed your ass, slowly working it open. 

“Good girl, just relax. There we go. He was so rough to you.”

A hot, thick cock pressed against your oiled hole. It slid in inch by aching inch. You were so full. Then it moved. The ridges scraped your insides, but you felt no pain. The dream man behind you thrust with a steady rhythm. “Good girl. Good pet. Your ass is perfect for me.”

He lifted your torso so you could see your ex-boyfriend sitting on the couch again. He was not frozen this time. Instead, his cock was in his hand as he shamefully masturbated at the sight of another man fucking his girlfriend. You had reached the precipice before your orgasm already, but each thrust merely kept you there on the edge. As you desperately waited for permission to cum, the man fucking your ass locked eyes with your ex-boyfriend.

“You are back already and at her request. If you want to keep her, you must try harder to please her. Look at this face. Have you ever seen her with this face before?”

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, drool running down your chin. Ecstasy.

“Look at this perfect little pet. Such a good girl. She is ready to cum, but she is going to wait. Good girls wait to cum until they have permission. This good girl may cum when she feels my seed staining her insides.”

Knowing the goal made it all the worse. He kept up his steady thrusting. Uneager to reach his climax. Perfectly in control. 

You were begging him in your mind. But each thrust slowed even those thoughts. Erasing them. Then, your mind was blank. All there was was the pleasure. “Good girl. No thoughts. Just pleasure.”

His hips sped up, and soon they stuttered against your ass. You felt him swell within you. The moment the corrupting seed met your insides, you came. Your muscles clenched tightly, drawing every ounce of cum from him. He held you tight against his body with his beautiful bat wings encircling you to stop you from collapsing and hurting yourself.

As you both came down from your high, he pressed another kiss against your ear and secretly whispered. “Once more, my pet, once more, and you can be mine.”

Another shift in your dream. 

His claws dragged along your jaw as he caressed your face. “You came alone this time. Has he given up on you already?”

“No, I don’t know why…I just…” His thumb pressed against your lower lip, silencing you.

“I know, my pet. You felt called here. Your soul yearns for this. You listened to your desires. You are such a good girl.”

He removed your shirt. His fingers explored your flesh, pointed claws stimulating your skin. Like a dream within a dream, he undressed you. You were dripping wet when your final bit of clothing was removed. As you stood nude before him, he took your face in his hands again. You stared into his shimmering yellow eyes, feeling your body relax, and your thoughts grow sluggish. 

“Magic works by the rule of three, pet. You have come to me of your own free will three times. My seed has marked your body twice. Here,” his thumb slid into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, “and here.” His tail wrapped around your body, and the spade slapped your ass gently. “Where do you want to feel my mark next?”

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, a strand of saliva hanging on before breaking, allowing you to speak. “My pussy, please. I want to feel your cock brand my cervix, your cum staining my womb.”

A deliciously devilish smile came to his face. “You have such a way with words, pet. It makes me want to spoil you. So, as such a good girl, you can have exactly what you want.”

He pulled you to the couch. At some point, he removed his clothes, if he was even wearing them in the first place and not just an illusion. The devil sat on the couch, pulling you into his lap, your knees on either side of his legs. Your pussy lips were spread, pressing against his hot, hard cock. 

His fiery yellow eyes watched you closely. “Go on, my pet. You came here searching for pleasure, did you not? Find it.”

With that permission, you shook your hips, grinding up and down across his textured cock. The bumps and ridges of his member caught your clit, driving you towards the edge. Your hands clung to his shoulders, your breasts brushing against his chest. It was too much. A long moan poured from your lips as you came. It was a small orgasm but infinitely more satisfying than alone and leagues above the ones your ex-boyfriend occasionally gave you.

“Tsk. Tsk,” he scolded, “I did not give you permission to cum.”

Still panting from the orgasm, you looked at him with a pitiful, worried expression. But he did not look angry.  He cupped your cheek and gave an understanding smile. “That is okay, even good girls can make mistakes…but mistakes must be corrected.”

In a flash, he pulled your arms behind your back, his tail wrapping around your wrists to hold them there. Grabbing your hips, he lined himself up with your sensitive, dripping hole. “Now, remember, my pretty little pet, do not cum without my permission. I do not want to truly punish you for disobeying me.”

He slammed your hips down. With supernatural strength, he manipulated your body, forcing you up and down on his cock at a punishing pace. Within moments, you were at the edge of orgasm once more. “Careful, pet, be a good girl now. Don’t think about how good it would feel to cum. Don’t think about how close you are. Don’t focus on every bump of my cock in your--”

You came. Your walls clenching helplessly on his cock. But he continued to force your hips up and down.

“Naughty. Naughty. Let us try again. Practice makes perfect, after all.”

You lost track of how many more times you failed. He drove you to the edge, and every time you were close to controlling your orgasm, he purposely pushed you over the edge - punishing you in the most delightful way. Your body was starting to give out. He released your wrists, allowing you to cling to him. Your sweat-covered body pressed against his chest. Your hips were moved on their own, rocking back and forth, keeping you right on the edge.

“There we go, pet. Just a bit longer. You are doing so well now.”

You wanted to beg. You wanted to apologize. But all you could do was pleasure yourself on his cock. A whimper left your throat. “You are delicious, my pet. Your sweet cunt almost made me spill my seed early. Do you know how hard that is for my kind?”

You whined. He pulled your head up to look you in the eyes. “Do you have one more in you? If I permitted you, could you cum for me one last time?”

You managed to nod. You could do it for him. You could cum one more time for him.

“Good girl. Make me cum. When you feel my cum inside of you, then you may cum.”

Spurred on by the finish line, your hips sped up. You pressed sloppy kisses to his shoulder and neck. Anything to make him cum. Anything for release. You heard his breath hitch. His fingers tightened on your flesh. Breath becoming ragged, he spoke again. “Good girl. Good girl. Just like that. I am going to cum deep inside of you. Just like you wanted my pretty pet. I am going to pour my cum into your womb, claim you as mine, because you are a good fucking girl!”

A growl of pleasure left his lips as his hot, sticky seed filled you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you came once more. Even after all your previous orgasms, this one brought you higher than the last. Your body shook, your breath escaped you, and for a moment, you felt something more. A heat with you deeper than his burning seed. A fire carving its way across your very soul.

You were barely aware as he gathered you in his arms and pressed a cool glass of water against your lips. But you heard his voice. It captured your need to submit in its melodic timber. “Good girl. I have never eaten so well before. It is taking all my control not to consume you here and now.”

His long, forked tongue licked his lips with the temptation. “I will not. Because I want to keep you, and I want you to desire to be kept. You must give your whole self to me, my pet.”

Lowering his head, he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You have given me your mind and your body. When your soul fully accepts that you are mine, call my name.”

Your eyes shot open as you awoke with a gasp; a name tumbled from your lips before any conscious thought could stop it. “Col’vanax.”

The darkness around you came alive. An invisible weight pressed upon your chest, freezing your body in place. From the darkness, you felt eyes on you, watching you, waiting. 

You knew what he was. You clearly remembered every interaction with him. His true form burned into your mind. An incubus. A demon that fed on sexual energy and pleasure. A powerful corruptive force that was hunted across both realms. The most beautiful thing you had ever seen. The one who brought you so much pleasure.

Your conscious mind knew what this meant. To lay with an incubus had already corrupted your soul. Yet, you could still be saved if you denied him.

“Col’vanax.”

He had entranced you. Who was to say that what he had you do was what you truly desired? Yet, you knew it was. You did not doubt that it was. The fantasies you had always been worried about, had been ashamed of, he released them from you. If you summoned him, how would your life change? Would you even have a life? Would he devour your soul? Leave you an empty husk? Or would he whisk you away, never to be seen again?

Your nipples were taut, yearning to be touched. Your pussy drenched the sheets under you. Your mind replayed the memories of his glorious touch. There was still time to reject him. You could call the Wardens and get help from the clerics to purify you. Never feel that pleasure again…

Magic worked by the rule of three. You knew you could say no. There was no infernal compulsion. You were in complete control of yourself. All you had to do was not say his name again. All you had to do was give up everything your soul yearned for. “Col’vanax.”

“Good girl.” His melodic, perfect voice cooed from the darkness at the foot of your bed. You gazed down to see two glowing yellow eyes staring back at you. You could feel him smiling in the shadows.

The covers were ripped off you, and you felt the mattress sink around you as he climbed onto the bed. His body radiated heat. You could not see him in the darkness but could feel him there, smiling.

“My true name sounds so good on your lips, my pet. I have been waiting for you to summon me. Thank you.” 

In the darkness, you reached up, your hands sliding across his bare chest. The more you had desired was here before you. You realized it was not just the pleasure you were missing but something deeper than that. It was only with him that your soul felt whole, and when separated, you could clearly feel the hole inside of you. Perhaps it had always been missing, and it was only upon meeting him that you realized it. Perhaps he had carved that part out of you. It didn’t matter now, now you were complete.

“Col’vanax,” you repeated once more in your realization. “I…”

Words failed you, but you needn’t finish the thought for him to understand. “I know. You shall never feel that emptiness again. My perfect submissive pet, we will do wonderful things together. Now, you have been a very, very good girl, so I think you deserve a reward…”

His hands dragged across your skin, his claws pressing down but not breaking the skin. “All you need to do is relax. Let yourself sink.”

Instantly, you felt your muscles let go. Your breathing evened as you began to fall into yourself. With each pass of his hands over your body, you fell further into relaxation. His tail dipped between your open legs rubbing back and forth across your clit. Up and down. Up and down.

Your breath was soon timed to the rhythm of his stroking. In and out. Up and down.

He lowered his mouth to your neck. His sharp fangs nibbled on you, his devious lips leaving marks upon your skin. His mouth had never touched your skin for so long. He had never truly given you a kiss, and now you knew why. It would have been completely unfair. The aphrodisiac saliva of his kind made each place his lips landed hypersensitive. Anything more than a single lick or a chaste kiss would have made you addicted to him. No longer would your choices to go to him or summon him have been of your free will.

His sharp fangs scraped your nipple as he took it into his mouth, sucking deeply. His tongue rolled around the sensitive bud, increasing its sensitivity tenfold. He switched his attention to your other breast. You had been brought to the edge of orgasm already. And there you stayed as he lathered his attention on you.

His tongue left a wet trail of saliva along your stomach as he moved down from your breasts to your dripping pussy. You whined as his tail stopped and removed itself. Yes, you wanted to cum, but you would rather be on the edge of orgasm than have that pleasure stop. “It is alright, my pet. In fact, since you have been such a good girl in summoning me, you may cum as much as you want.”

Lowering his mouth to your cunt he began to eat you out. It took only a few seconds from the moment his lips touched your quivering cunt for you to begin to orgasm. And begin was the correct word. Each lap of his tongue, every suck of his mouth, extended your orgasm. This was not a series of short orgasms; this was one that lasted for minutes.

Your hips shivered and bucked, but he held you in place. Your back arched. Your eyes rolled back in your head. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as you panted. You were moaning, crying, screaming for more. 

Higher and higher, he drove your body’s pleasure while your mind sunk deeper and deeper. You never knew this sort of pleasure was possible. All thoughts were driven from your mind. Everything was. Everything but him devouring you.

In the midst of your orgasm, you felt something else. Something tugged inside of you, straining to break free. It struggled and pulled in desperation. It was almost painful. If it had not been for the overwhelming pleasure it would be the most crushing agony. You did not want to feel anything but the pleasure…so you released it.

The orgasm ceased. Your body collapsed limply. You watched, as if detached from all control of your body, as Col’vanax lifted his head. His long, devilish tongue was wrapped around a fluttering light, finally allowing you to see his perfect, angelic, triumphant face. The light shone in his mouth briefly before disappearing down his gullet.

Mind erased.

Body empty.

Soul consumed.

Everything you were was his.

“Come here, my pretty pet.”

Your body moved, presenting your nude form before him. The room around you glowed a lascivious red. The place that you had once called your bedroom was gone. Instead, you were floating in a sea of pulsing, gentle red. You had never felt more at home.

His hand traveled the length of your arm and took your hand. Lifting it, he placed a chaste kiss on your fingers. His fingers threaded through yours, holding your hand like a lover. You watched strange markings appear across his shoulders and down his arms.

“Do you know what these marks mean, pet?” You shook your head. “Many would not. They are soul markings. Incubi and succubi develop them when they find a perfect match. As an incubus, I have spent my existence searching for a perfectly submissive partner, someone who was willing to surrender their whole self to me.”

“That sounds romantic.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps it is surprising that a species which feeds on sex is one of the few who have…what is the human conception? Soulmates.”

Col’vanax stepped forward, wrapping his wings around you tenderly. “Now I have you, my good girl, and you will be mine forever.”

Lowering his head, he pulled you into a kiss. Your first true kiss with him. Your heart soared, and fireworks went off in your chest. It was chaste. Loving. It was not meant to arouse only to communicate the deepest of emotions.

His tongue dipped into your mouth, and you felt a strange, pliable ball of lustful red ichor enter your mouth. Instinctually, you swallowed it.

Your incubus vanished, and you were alone in the vast pool of red light. No. Not alone. You were looking at yourself. Yourself, yet not yourself. An image of you with every flaw, every insecurity you had about your appearance gone. The perfect bodily version of you, how you had always dreamed of looking. Beautiful ruby skin, gorgeous golden eyes, delicate yet strong batwings, a long whip-like tail with a heart-shaped spade at the end, and two luxurious horns curving from your skull under your silken hair. You watched as, just like Col’vanax, this perfect form was marked with an intricate design. These were not on the shoulders and arms but spread just above your pubic hair.

Your soul stepped forward and reached out, and your mind embraced it, becoming one. This was you—the new you. Now, all you had to do was rejoin your body.

Once more, you awoke with a gasp. Col’vanax stared down at you with a smile on his face. The both of you lay in your bed together. You felt different. More alive than you had ever felt before. You could sense the people around you, safe and snug in their homes. Two doors down, a newlywed couple was exploring bondage. Across the street, a middle-aged woman was aroused by her romance book while her husband was silently masturbating to a massive orc camgirl in the other room. You licked your lips with your long, forked tongue. Sitting up, your wings stretched for the first time, and your tail flicked back and forth like a cat.

“How are you feeling, my newborn succubus?”

You pouted. “I’m hungry.”

He laughed and pulled you into a kiss. The spark of pleasure soothed your hunger for a brief moment. “Then let’s find you someone to eat.”

________________________________

Other Department of Monster Affairs works

Hello Neighbor - m!werewolf x f!reader, teratophilia, knotting, heat. One-shot.

After Party - m!Minotaur x f!reader, teratophilia, breeding, overstimulation.

Sweet Cream - m!Minotaur x f!reader, lactation, hucow, breeding overstimulation. Sequel to After Party.

For other works see my masterlist

[maybeafrog-blog]

In Defense of Donnie's Gifts

I'm ngl I sorta think the shock collar was still just an odd writing decision but as far as PREMISE:

It CANNOT be a coincidence that this is the first time (and one of VERY few times) that Donnie's soft shell is referenced. Once, when Raph is hesitating to tell Donnie his gifts suck ass, and he uses the soft shell metaphor, and after that with Meat Sweats and his paprika, describing it as not just soft, but delicate. Weird, but he is a cannibal, so. (Side note, Meat Sweats never removed his battle shell? How does he know? Or did he take it off and replace it after the pound of butter? Is he using it to facilitate steaming and tenderness? Is it broken? I feel like it should have something in there that could break him out of the sausage links)

Then in that last little scene- "Forget it. You guys are great the way you are!" - we get the shot of Donnie from behind pre group hug, with his brothers facing the camera. (Idk if I'm making shit up, but I feel like this is a staple for Donnie episodes? It def happens in the Purple Game, maybe Smart Lair.) The framing draws attention to his battle shell. The battle shell even kinda matches the gifts, compared to the rest of their gear and even Donnie's tech, color coded and way more streamlined than stuff like the tech bo.

Donnie's soft shell is an innate, unchangeable part of him, a feature of his species, that he treats as a handicap. Probably MORE unchangeable than the character traits he sees as holding his brothers back, which they do sorta... not mature out of, but refine, rather, over the course of the show. Donnie's shell can't experience a character arc, but he sees it as holding him back. So he FIXES it.

The Mad Dogs don't really have a motivation for beating stuff up besides "Hero Time!!!" at this point. That's why it's so interesting how EARLY this happens, unlike with Mind Meld, he isn't trying to change his brothers to make them better at a task that he actually CARES about. Donnie in particular never gets a super intense moral compass besides stuff that threatens people he already cares about, and he doesn't have any grudges (no Purple Dragons) at this point in the series. Hero Goals are largely devices for him to hang out with his dum dum brothers. I'm not diagnosed or anything but my vibes are certainly... Spectrum-Adjacent, I definitely have trouble with literal thinking and reading people. One thing that happens sometimes is people will be using "task" as "reason to hang," and I will get a lot more fixated on completing said task than I really should, to the point of annoying people. I confuse "Successful Task Completion" with "Successful Social Interaction." It makes me come across as bossy and controlling without realizing it.

So, we got a Donnie who thinks Arbitrary Goals are essential to Hero Bonding, who has been treating his life like an mmorpg - armor upgrades, skill trees, grinding, sometimes fighting through random dungeons to hang out with his bros. He's probably even slightly better at Fighting Stuff than his brothers atp, he isn't dealing with a mystic learning curve and his special interest has been Weapons of Mild Destruction for years already. His brothers want to level up, take harder missions, he tries to get them there with his access to High Level Loot.

Of course, his brothers are all min-maxing, not trying to multiclass their purple ass out of squishy glass cannon town. So, it doesn't go well. Unfortunately, the lesson Donnie learns (besides brotherly affection) is that his brothers don't NEED fixing like he does. Mind Meld and Donnie vs. Witch Town sorta finish this arc out as best as the series can.

Where I would have liked to see this go:

A S2 Donnie's Gifts or Mind Meld style episode (Donnie tries to improve his brothers, to their dismay) where the motivator isn't goal completion, but protectiveness. We see a bit of the fear in Purple Game, a bit of the contingency planning with the escape pods in the movie. Maybe a more upfront "training montage" type scenario, a high tech robo dojo to develop their mad skills, or just a tense moment after a skin of their teeth Genius Built rescue.

The brothers confront Donnie eventually-- not just the passive conflict resolution of Donnie's Gifts. They get mad. Push Donnie to the point he's at in Turtle-Dega Nights. They get a rant about not wanting them to get hurt, of course, but also that he's already done so much to FIX himself, make sure he's not a LIABILITY, why can't they at least try to stay SAFE? The dangers are real now, and as far as Donnie knows he REALLY can't do anything about threats like the Shredder. His tech did nothing the first time. His brothers are the ones with the mystic mojo, and they don't even realize how SERIOUS things could get.

Anyway. Protective Donatello my Beloved. Let my boy go apeshit.

//I REALLY Like the 2003 episode where Leo is hurt and Donnie is fucking PISSED at Usagi. All Donnies should be allowed to enter a feral protective rage, as a treat.

//If anyone knows of any Purple Game Aftermath fics lmk. Like, going home, getting donnie out of the evil gamer chair, guilt, whatever. or just good Purple Dragons being Assholes content.

[nameless-jamie]

Recently remembered those tiktok videos where guys would sit at a computer with their shirts off and make their pecs move like typing and now I'm thinking what if Jamie could move his and how might he Tease the reader????

Idk maybe I'm crazy

Pec-tacular Performance

Drabble - Jamie Tartt x wife reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x wife reader

TW: cursing, suggestive scene/language, slight nudity

A/N: I hope you're not mad I turned this into a small drabble, couldn't think of a longer plot than this haha. Hope you appreciate the pun in the title. TY and LY!!!!!!!!!!!

Y/N had long since accepted that Jamie Tartt was a menace. A lovable, infuriating, ridiculously fit menace.

She was curled up on the couch, laptop balanced on her knees, trying to answer emails when she heard the bathroom door open. A few seconds later, a freshly showered Jamie strolled into the living room, a towel slung dangerously low on his hips, still dripping from the steam. Dripping all the water onto the floor, being a menace.

"Oi, love," he said casually, running a hand through his damp hair. "What ya workin’ on?"

"Emails," she murmured, keeping her eyes on the screen. She could feel him hovering, standing just close enough to be a distraction.

"Sounds dead boring," Jamie mused. "Dunno how ya do it. Here, lemme help."

She didn’t even have time to react before he stepped in front of her and—oh for fuck’s sake.

Jamie flexed his pecs.

Left. Right. Left. Right.

"Oh my god," Y/N groaned, slapping a hand over her eyes as his pecs bounced.

"Somethin’ wrong?" Jamie asked innocently, except he was not innocent. He was flexing his chest in a very deliberate, very rhythmic way.

Y/N peeked through her fingers, her mouth falling open, he hands falling from her eyes. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yeah, babe, I’m helpin’ ya type," he grinned, pecs still bouncing like they had a mind of their own. "Look—'Dear Richmond staff, Jamie Tartt is—’" Flex, flex. "—the best footballer ya’ve ever seen." Flex, flex.

Y/N groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "Jamie."

"What?" he asked, completely unbothered. "This is a skill, Y/N. Not everyone can do this. I’ve trained for years to get this good."

She peeked at him from between her fingers. "Years?"

"Yeah," Jamie said, nodding sagely. "Blood, sweat, tears—" Flex, flex. "—all for this moment."

"Stop it," she laughed, finally lowering her hand.

"Never," Jamie declared, now making them jump simultaneously. "Bet ya didn’t know I had such talents, did ya?"

Y/N wanted to be annoyed, truly, but she was also undeniably entertained. She pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.

Jamie noticed. "Ohhh, ya think it’s funny, do ya?"

"No," she lied.

He smirked. "Alright, fine, but can ya do this?" And before she could stop him, he started making his pecs move in a perfect wave pattern, like they were rippling in slow motion.

Y/N lost it.

"Jamie, stop!" she wheezed, clutching her stomach as she laughed.

"See, babe? Ya love it," he said, grinning triumphantly.

She shook her head, still giggling, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "I married an idiot."

"Yeah, but ya married this idiot." Flex. Jamie leaned down, resting his hands on either side of her laptop, eyes sparkling with mischief.

His eyes lowered. "Ya think I could make a career outta this?"

"Absolutely not."

Jamie smirked, then suddenly stopped flexing and leaned in close. "Wanna see ‘em move somewhere else?"

"JAMIE!"

Y/N rolled her eyes and reached out, poking his chest. "Put a shirt on, Tartt, before you give me a heart attack."

His smirk widened. "Ain’t my fault ya fancy me so much."

"And yet, here I am regretting every life decision that led me to this moment."

Jamie just laughed, leaning in to kiss her nose. "Nah, babe. Best decision ya ever made."

And honestly? She couldn’t even argue.

[cleverstudentcheesecake]

I need to let this out!

The parallels and tragedy between FengLian and JunMei always make my heart ache.

Both Feng Xin and Mei Nianqing stayed behind with their prince and bestfriend even when others left.

They didn't want to abandon their bestfriend.

People blame Feng Xin for idolising Xie Lian too much and giving him hard time for his crashout, but people forget he himself was a kid too. He was crashing out too. He was witnessing his bestfriend go through immense pain and he didn't know what to do. He wanted to protect Xie Lian even it was from Xie Lian himself, and blamed himself when he was unable to do so. Feng Xin has always been emotionally straightforward. It was difficult for him to adjust to Xie Lian's behaviourial changes (which were very apt). Changes are hard and it becomes even harder when someone you knew all your life is changing. Feng Xin is loyal to a fault, no doubt he would have supported Xie Lian in the future even if Xie Lian walked down the wrong path. He just needed time to adjust. Both of them were kids, they both needed time and space to come around each other again. But, time and space is what they didn't have. Xie Lian feared being the bearer of Feng Xin's possible future resentment. He didn't want his bestfriend to hate and blame him so he did what he thought was the best... Push him away and Feng Xin's loyalty forced him to oblige to Xie Lian's wishes even though he knew it was a wrong decision. Broken friendships hurt worse than breakup.

JunMei experienced what Xie Lian feared would have become of him and Feng Xin. Mei Nianqing stayed behind to witness his bestfriend's real downfall. He witnessed their friendship being torn apart by betrayal and resentment. Jun Wu in the end betrayed the one person who stuck with him. Why do you think Jun Wu let Mei Nianqing live even after all those years. I know he is horrendous and had lost all his sense and reason, but tell me deep down he didn't grieve and regret his actions just like Mei Nianqing regretted abandoning him? Mei Nianqing just like Feng Xin would have also followed Jun Wu to the bitter end, if he was unable to protect him from himself and the world... But what he needed was time to grasp the situation. They direly needed the time they didn't have. Maybe both of them throughout their long lives were stuck on the "Maybe and what could have been"...

Thanks for going through my yappology session 🙏

[artstennisracket]

i neeeeed artrick dom/sub dynamic in my life. art and pat own each other in such a unique way and i feel like that translates over to intimacy as well. not necessarily in a way where one is always in charge, i think it kinda goes both ways. i’m not articulating this well but still

i trust you to get the vision.

i’m picking up what ur putting down anon😉, I hope you likeeeee :)

cw: dom/sub undertones but now that im really looking at it idek if i did this prompt correctly😭 and there’s no smut in this

*just realized this prompt literally states intimacy im so sorry anon I will work on a part 2

Patrick and Art have a been a package deal since they started the academy. After they became roommates that fateful day, they’ve been inseparable.

Most people would describe their relationship as…honestly pretty gay tbh. But Art and Patrick didn’t have to explain themselves to anyone. Sure they cuddled to go to sleep sometimes, and maybe there were like two times (ten times) they’ve masturbated together. Other than that they consider themselves your stereotypical best friends.

But there was certain dynamics in play. Of course they were subliminal, never outspoken. Art and Patrick had a very unique understanding of each other that transcended verbal communication.

There was a time when Art was being really indecisive of what shirt he wanted to wear to go see his girlfriend later. He was wearing his tiny little briefs, damp curls sticking to his forehead. He felt like he had gone through every single shirt he owned but none of them felt good enough.

Patrick walked out the bathroom, observing the mess Art had made with his clothes everywhere. Patrick smirked as he walked over to their bed picking up a blue polo and holding it up for Art.

“wear this one,” Patrick tilts his head to the side like he’s trying to envision Art wearing the shirt, “brings out your eyes.”

Now what the fuck does Patrick know about fashion. Art scoffs, “yeah sure, whatever,” as he pulls the polo on over his head.

Art can be really indecisive at times, his mind running 10 miles a minute. Now every time he starts to spiral, overthinking about what he should wear, Patrick will just pick his clothes out for him. Even though Art would always make a dismissive remark about how he can pick his own clothes, he did really appreciate Patrick doing it for him. Sometimes he really just needed someone to make a decision for him but he’d never say that out loud. Especially when they had to pick places to go out to eat it was like pulling teeth.

“i don’t know where i wanna go man, i’m good with whatever.” Art shrugs.

Patrick groans, “that doesn’t fucking help, there’s a million places we could go and i know if I suggest something you don’t like you’re just going to complain.”

Art lets out an exasperated sigh falling back onto their bed, “can you please just pick something for me?”

Now that was a first. Art never usually just says he wants Patrick to choose. Maybe it’s because they just shared a joint. Since he was nice enough to ask, Patrick indulges and drives them to get subs at the nearest sandwich shop.

Patrick picked up on how indecisive Art actually is years ago and sometimes he’ll tease Art about it, but he always ends up giving in and making the decision when he knows Art can’t. That means that almost anytime they go out to eat Patrick has to choose. Even when they eat in the cafeteria and Art can’t decide between a chicken sandwich and pizza, Patrick chooses for him. And in return Art would order extra of whatever he’s eating so that Patrick could have some too.

Patrick was like a black hole. He could eat an entire box of pizza if it came down to it. Art didn’t really care because he doesn’t always finish his own food so he’d give the rest to Patrick. That way there’s no waste. Or when Art takes the pickles off his burger, Patrick would be right there ready to eat them up.

So even though Art never expresses appreciation verbally, Patrick knew deep down Art did appreciate it and would go with whatever decision Patrick would make.

There were also times when Patrick needed Art too though.

Patrick wasn’t the best at time management. Between practice and school, sometimes he would forgot to study or do his homework on time. But if his grades fall below a B he won’t be able to do tennis anymore, so Art made sure that wouldn’t happen.

They had a system where Art wouldn’t speak to Patrick until all his work was finished (unless he needed help with it). It was hard at first.

“you’re really not gonna talk to me?” Patrick asks, dropping his backpack onto the floor.

Art nods from where he’s sitting on their bed reading a book.

Patrick scoffs before he toes off his shoes. He climbs onto their bed snatching Art’s book from him. “c’mon its just homework blondie, i promise i can get it done without the silent treatment”

Art looks at him, raising one eyebrow before he shakes his head no, crossing his arms over his chest.

Patrick smirks pointing to himself, “really? you’re gonna say no to this face?”

Art scoffs laughing and nods again as he messes up Patrick’s hair and pushes his head away.

Patrick groans getting off the bed to make his way to his desk and setting up his homework.

It wasn’t ideal but it was the only way Art could get him to actually do his homework. If Patrick can’t get distracted talking a mile a minute, then he could focus on homework. No video games, no TV, no leaving, just Patrick and his homework.

It took Patrick so long to adjust to but eventually it started working like a charm. Patrick would be done with his homework within the hour and everything could go back to normal.

Going home for break was always rough for them since being apart was difficult. But it was particularly rough for Patrick because going home meant being in the same place as his father.

Patrick had been fighting with his father for as long as he can remember. Always standing up for himself since nobody else would. He wasn’t sure why his dad always hated him without reason but after Patrick’s sister had outed him to their parents after he confided in her in confidence, his dad had made it his personal mission to make Patrick very aware how he feels about Patrick’s “lifestyle choices”.

So going home was hell, especially when Art couldn’t come home with him. Art’s grandma’s birthday was coming up and Art’s parents wanted to go visit her so Art had decided to go home for break instead of going with Patrick.

Art was no stranger to receiving calls from Patrick about his dad, it happened every single time they went home for any type of break during school. Most times it was Patrick being very angry and Art would calm him down so Patrick wouldn’t doing anything rash. Other times it was Patrick on the brink of tears over something disrespectful his dad said to him.

Over the course of break, Patrick would get into multiple screaming matches his dad and every single time he would find himself on the phone with Art shortly after. Confiding in Art so he wouldn’t have a breakdown every time. But there was a particular fight that put Patrick over the edge.

ring ring

“hey man, what’s up?” Art asks.

Patrick goes to start his sentence but can feel himself on the brink of tears. He didn’t want to cry right now. He takes a deep breath, his voice wavering, “i can’t stay here anymore.”

Art can hear the hurt in Patrick’s voice and his face visibly softens. His takes a beat before he says, “what did he do?”

Patrick looks up to his ceiling, blinking back the tears that threaten to escape, “i cant—,” his voice cracks, “i don’t want to stay where im not wanted. you didn’t see the way—” and that’s all it really take for the flood gates to open. Patrick is crying full force now because all he can think about is how much his dad actually hates him.

Before it was more subtle but now it was outright. In their last fight his dad had ended it by saying, and if you think i’m going to ever publicly support having a faggot son you got another thing coming. as a matter of fact, i don’t even have a son at all anymore. get out of my sight.

It wasn’t even the words that broke Patrick, it was the way his dad looked at him. A lot of emotions were written across his face like anger and disgust, but his eyes? It was as if he was looking through Patrick, like Patrick didn’t exist. Like he didn’t care if Patrick lived or died. Like he was nothing.

“art i cant— i just cant stay here.” Patrick chokes out between sobs.

“hey, hey, its okay. do you want me to come? you can stay with us for the rest of break.” Art responds softly. Luckily they only live about 4 hours away from each other. But Art has already started driving speeding from the second Patrick called him so there’s maybe about 3 and a half hours left to go.

Patrick nods forgetting Art cant see him. He sniffles, “please.”

“m’ already on my way but we can stay on the phone until i get there. but now im gonna need you to do something for me. can you take some deep breaths for me?”

Patrick nods again, using his hands to wipe the tears from his face. They take a few deep breaths together, Art coaching Patrick through it and counting out loud.

“you did a really good job, now i want you to drink some water and pack your stuff okay?”

Patrick packed his bag and they stayed on the phone until Art came and picked him up. Art would listen to Patrick rant about his dad a thousand times over if it meant Patrick would actually feel even the tiniest bit better afterwards. But he would always be there for Patrick no matter what. He would walk though hell and back if it meant Patrick would be okay.

When they got back to Art’s house Art made sure to do everything he could to turn Patrick’s brain off so he wouldn’t think about his dad anymore. They played video games, watched movies, and ordered food.

That night they cuddled in Art’s bed. Patrick’s head rested on Art’s chest while Art mindlessly played with Patrick’s curls until he fell asleep.

[bartmiuscjr]

A matter of time

synopsis 𑁤.ᐟ wolfstar as fuck buddies who don’t expect to run into each other outside of the bedroom, and definitely not in regulus black’s apartment.

disclaimer: english isn’t my first language, bear with me:3 also, open ending! i can definitely do a part 2. if enough people want it.

warnings: implied nsfw, kms comments.

ᡣ𐭩 request from @walaburgasaplusparenting — hope this lives up to your expectations!

The rule was simple: no contact outside of sex.

Sirius had agreed to it, because at first it seemed like a dream. No strings, no messy emotions — just sharp gasps, hands gripping too tight, teeth on skin and shaky moans. Remus wasn’t clingy, didn’t ask for things Sirius wasn’t willing — or ready — to give. They met up, fucked like the world was about to end, and then parted ways like strangers.

Sirius wanted that, he really did. He wanted to meet Remus at night, feeling desperate and needy, knowing that he would take care of him just how he liked it. The mere thought of being in an actual relationship, with emotions and vulnerability? That scared the shit out of him. So yes, being ‘fuck buddies’ — as he graciously named it the first time, earning a scoff and a quiet “that sounds like i’m a bloody toy” from Remus — should have been enough.

And yet.

Sirius doesn’t know when it started — the wanting. Perhaps it was when he caught himself lingering after, watching the way Remus stretched, lazy and content, as if he hadn’t just ruined him. Maybe it was the mornings when he woke up alone, and foolishly thought ‘how would it feel to wake up next to him?’.

Sirius wanted more, but he couldn’t ask — because Remus had never shown a single ounce of interest, not really. For him it was just meaningless sex. When Sirius talked to James about it, he just blinked and stared at Sirius like he was dumb (which he wasn’t, thank you very much) and asked ”right… did he tell you that?” (as if Sirius wasn’t perceptive and couldn’t read the guy he’s been fucking). Lily, bless her heart, reacted the exact same way — “did you ask him, or are you assuming he doesn’t want more?”.

So, in an act of desperation, Sirius decided he would go to his baby brother for advice. This was, probably, the worst decision he had ever made — he wasn’t thrilled about whining about his sex life with Regulus. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and considering his best friends absolutely sucked at giving him actual, helpful advice, Regulus’ coldness and indifference would have to suffice.

The bell announcing the end of the lecture finally rings, forcing Sirius to stop overthinking absolutely everything — because lately it’s the only thing he does — and grab his things, leaving towards his brother’s apartment. It was inside the same college, meaning he didn’t have to walk much. He grabbed his phone and quickly texted Regulus, a simple “i’m going to yours rn”. Regulus, answered an immediate “no”, making Sirius huff.

He didn’t text him back, because he didn’t really care about what his little brother wanted. Apparently, he understood the message, because seconds later another text came: “whatever. my roommate is here, so behave.” Sirius rolled his eyes — he didn’t knew Regulus’ roommate, but it had to be someone equally annoying if he put up with his bullshit. He arrived to his apartment, knocked on the door and waited.

The annoyed face of his brother appeared in front of him, and begrudgingly he moved away so Sirius could walk in. Usually, he would’ve been smirking, ruffling Reg’s hair just to make him scoff, and throw himself on the couch. Today, he just slowly sat on a chair, motioning for his brother to sit in front of him.

Regulus rolled his eyes, closing the door and humoring Sirius. He sat in front of him, his back facing the bedrooms, and raised a single eyebrow — “Well?”. Sirius fidgeted with his hands, and taking a deep breath, started talking.

Regulus reaction was exactly what Sirius expected — “Do I look like someone who gives a fuck about your sex life, Sirius?”. But, seeing that his brother was actually conflicted about it, and hearing that James useless Potter couldn’t help, he sighed and nodded briefly, listening. The door of one of the rooms cracked open, but Regulus paid no mind. Sirius, on the other hand, lifted his gaze — and immediately closed his mouth.

“I’m killing myself” Sirius blurted out after a few seconds of silence, still without looking at his brother — because his eyes were now fixed on Remus motherfucking Lupin. Regulus, still unaware of what was happening, mumbled “Great. Can I watch?”, but frowned when he noticed that Sirius was pale as a ghost, looking behind his head as if he had seen Walburga Black herself.

Sirius and Remus made eye contact for approximately ten seconds, before Regulus turned around and noticed that he was standing there. Apparently, his little brother wasn’t as good as reading people as he thought, because instead of realizing what was going on, he just scowled.

“Great, now Lupin can help with your problem too. He probably has better advice than me” Regulus said, just wanting to leave the conversation. “My brother is apparently fucking a guy who-“

“Shut the fuck up, Regulus” Sirius practically cried, resting his head on his hands trying to hide the blush that crept up his face. This was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. This was the day Sirius Black killed himself, because there’s no way Remus didn’t hear him rambling about wanting to have something more, wanting to be something more.

Remus was still quiet, which honestly was terrifying. Regulus narrowed his eyes, and it clicked — Sirius knew it clicked thanks to the groan he suddenly let out, and the sound of the chair scratching the floor, meaning he stood up.

“Really, Sirius? My roommate?” Regulus said with the most annoyed voice he could muster. He turned towards Remus, looking horrified. “My brother? You are disgusting. Absolutely disgusting”. Sirius didn’t even want to look up, but then he heard Regulus locking himself in his room, and he knew he was alone with Remus, and-

“You’re overthinking”

Sirius made a little pained sound, like Remus voice alone was enough for him to have a stroke and die. “I’m perfectly fine”. He mentally slapped himself, because the way he said that was definitely not convincing at all. Oh, he was fucked, and not in the sense he liked-

“Sirius”

He lifted his head as soon as his name left Remus lips, because how could he not? He was used to hear him whisper his name between kisses, when he moaned and closed his eyes in pleasure. But now? It was soft. Soft. What was he supposed to do with that if not look? If not beg for him to say it again?

Remus sighed, walked towards the couch and sat in front of him, just where Regulus was sitting seconds before. He looked so collected, so calm — but Sirius knew better. He noticed the way his fingers drummed against his knee, the way he bit the inside of his cheek. “Let’s have a chat”.

And Sirius, for the first time, was terrified of what was going to come out of Remus’ mouth.

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

My byler headcanons

Both are HUGE lotr fans (hehe). Will more, but mike would fight you on it.

Both are pretty good at maths and are science nerds

Will has cowritten a dnd campaign with mike at least once. They argued over plot holes and minor details. Maybe to make it funnier they didn't tell dustin and lucas that will actually knew all the plot (cause he helped create it), just revealed towards the end that will the wise had been secretly a spy to the big bad all along (since the beginning, will had been leaving little clues. "Guys we shouldn't do that", *knows things it doesn't really make sense for him to know*, *some of his decisions ended up harming them, oops*). The gasps and feelings of betrayal were genuine.

More of the party than byler, but they all definitely went into the woods behind will's house with plastic swords and pretended to fight. Cmon they 100% did. Bonus if while wearing costumes. Maybe they even recorded themselves if they got ahold of a camera (if Jonathan had one at that point). I keep imagining the party as babies recording themselves. Will is the one carrying the camera (he's the most careful), you have mike saying "today is tuesday, third of June of 1980, and we are going on an adventure" or smth to the camera (which is pretty wobbly), etc. Mike is the one that kept the recordings in his basement. He doesn't watch them, but he can't bring himself to throw them out.

About lotr, again. Will likes Aragorn but he isn't like, obsessed, meanwhile Mike doesn't know if he wants to BE Aragorn or be WITH him.

Mike loves star wars. Will doesn't particularly care about it (he doesn't dislike it, it's more, he enjoys it, he finds it entertaining, but he also thinks it's forgettable).

Will is a film snob, Mike is a book snob.

"Smalltown boy when Mike gets vecna'd" "should I stay or should I go when Mike gets vecna'd" wrong. Sweet Child O' Mine as mike's song when he gets vecnad. It's so byler from mike's pov.

"Gawain is the best knight out of the round table" "I have never in my life heard such an incorrect opinion".

Eachother's moms absolutely love them.

They hung out at castle byers, a lot. Also mike’s basement.

Mike never apologized for the "it's not my fault you don't like girls", mostly cause 1) he didn't mean it like that, and didn't think will took it that way and 2) when his parents get mad (at each other or at his sisters and him) they never apologize afterwards, just ignore it. That's what mike's used to. Will kinda wishes he did apologise, but he also doesn't want to bring it up again. At least before they started dating. That doesn’t take away from the fact that he hurt him, but he know fully understands he didn’t mean it like that.

Mike is also a star trek fan, will has watched some episodes out of pure love, cause he finds it SO boring.

Mike has read SO many epic poems and medieval fantasy novels it's insane.

So many sleepovers as kids, specially when Lonnie was still around. Will slept at the wheeler's once a week at LEAST.

Notice how will barely rides his bike after s1? Mike rides, and will sits behind.

Will is so intrigued about mike's relationship with nancy, and so is mike about will's with jonathan. "You guys don't even act like brothers but like friends!!" "What do you mean you don't know what books Nancy reads? She doesn't give you recommendations and talks with you about them?"

Jonathan babysat mike, 100%. When his family had to go and he was younger, they called Jonathan to babysit and paid him like 10 dollars (they called Jonathan cause they knew he was a responsible kid, and he was also Joyce's son so way better than a stranger). Will has also 100% babysat holly. Same reasons as Jonathan, responsible and familiar,

Nancy is like, intimidated by Will, a little. Listen, he's her boyfriend's beloved brother so she really wants him to like her + she just can't figure him out. Between will's quiet nature and all that happened regarding the upside down and him that they still have no idea about (how did will survive so long? What happened to him there (he never talks about it)? How did he communicate with the lights? Why him?) he's just an enigma to her. Will on the other hand is pretty comfortable around her, he has known her most of his life and thinks she's pretty cool. When Nancy saw will knew how to use a gun she thought she found an opportunity to bond with him and began talking to him a little. Will was wobbly out of lack of practice, "keep your aim straighter and firmer" “...okay". Nancy's nervousness around Will was taken from this fic Imao.

Jonathan and Mike have a pretty stable relationship. No, Jonathan doesn't hate mike, he just looks at him and sees a little kid trying to act older that his age and hopes he stops soon. Mike trusts Jonathan so much, like, they could be in a life or death situation but as long as Jonathan is there he feels safer, Jonathan will handle it, there's nothing to worry about. Mike also hates Steve. When he found out Jonathan beat him up once (and won!) his respect for him multiplied four times.

Will learnt morse code after s1, because he was afraid he would get kidnapped again. If that was the case, his mom wouldn't need to write the alphabet on the wall, he would be able to properly communicate through the lights with morse code. Mike doesn't know this.

Will was NOT thrilled about living with el after s3 at first Imao. He grew to like her but the first weeks were rough. He didn't hate her, not at all, he just didn't really know her much and was jealous of her (and her relationship with Mike).

"What if they are talking about me right now?" Mike, about Will and El, after they moved to cali. They are not talking about him.

Max hangs out with Will in his room, Mike really doesn't get it.

Will likes cuddles, and Mike is super clingy.

Robin enjoys annoying Mike so much she finds it so funny. Mike reminds her a lot of Nancy, and he has got such a judgy stare, she loves to provoke him. She thinks he's a nice kid, a little nervous, with eyes she can sometimes recognize (since she wore them too). She asks Nancy about him, Nancy finds herself unable to answer specific questions due to lack of knowledge, and frowns and presses her lips together. Robin notices similar gestures between both siblings, and the same nail biting habit. He seems a bit sad, and Robin doesn't know what to do with that.

With Will she vibes, she feels a bit bad for him after learning about all that happened (Will can tell, he hates it) and he also reminds her a bit of herself, she was quieter in high school, more drawn to herself. Sure, she wasn't fighting monsters neither did she have more than 1 friend but still, something felt familiar (eventually she learnt another similitude they had, she began talking about girls and such around Will without fear. Will didn't know how to react at first, robin did it on purpose, to show him "see, l'm talking normally, you can aswell, I'm not saying anything wrong". Will likes her. She was energetic and funny and a bit strange, it felt weird to find someone else, and he could see something closed in her eves every once in a while, a secret, a locked door. Will decided they were more alike that he thought). They bonded over cinema and shared movie and music recs. She puts her arm around his shoulders a lot.

Horrible runners, both of them. They can run in life or death situations, but don't ask them to run in a race cause they'Il die after 3 steps.

All the party falls asleep on each other since forever, including mike and will.

No pet names, unless you include "dude"

They were each other's first kiss, and I really do believe that.

Will definitely makes fun of Mike for not smiling in photos.

Mike never calls Will William, but Will does call him Michael sometimes (he's the only out out of the party allowed to because Mike hates it, however Will told him years ago that he like the way Michael sounded like, so Mike relented)

As kids, their tables were next to the other's in class, if they weren't allowed to be in pairs, it slowly became a game of "how closer we can slowly get our tables to be before the teacher notices".

(Baby byler) I think that as far as mike's friends go, Will might be Ted's favorite. Sure, he makes subtle homophobic comments (you see Michael, see what happens) but like, Will is a quiet, clean kid who can take his cue to leave (unlike Dustin) and who, instead of making mike more agitated (he was definitely a kid with lots of energy), manages to somehow calm him down. Hell, he barely even notices he's home anymore, and that's if he is, sometimes they're out in the woods or god knows where. Finally some quiet.

[lottielovelace]

princess — chapter two

(ghost x könig's-sister!reader)

summary: Finally you get a chance to visit Simon. You just hope he hasn't forgotten about you. (aka two people trying their best to hide how incredibly into each other they are)

originally posted on ao3 (chapter length: 1,318 words)

Rating: M

Relationships: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader, background platonic relationships

Ao3 Tags FOR THE FIC AS A WHOLE, bolded is for this specific chapter: Past Rape/Non-con / Rape Recovery / Male Victim of Sexual Assault / Canonical Rape/Non-con (Simon's) / First Time / Getting Together / Manchester as a setting / disclaimer: author has not been to manchester / Simon does bare-knuckle boxing as a hobby / Sparring as Flirting / wrestling as flirting / Identity Porn / Non-Explicit Sex / reader is konig's half sister / Unmasked Simon "Ghost" Riley (while on leave) / reader knows that simon is in the military but doesn't know he’s ghost / medium speed burn

this is a part of a series and a multichapter fic (Ch1, Ch2)

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine's! I did promise more Simon this time

The next day, you headed to Stuart's bright and early. You didn't want to spend any longer in your crappy hostel than you had to.

You got off the tram, walked a couple blocks, and flashed a friendly—if nervous—smile at the secretary. She returned it with an encouraging thumbs up and beckoned you to enter the training area.

Only one figure stood in the ring, his back to you. The workout garb revealed so much more than the heavy winter garments he had worn undercover in the prison.

You let the door slam behind you.

He whirled around: hair rustled, undereyes dark, sweat sheening over scarred skin. God, he was beautiful.

"Hi," your voice was breathless.

“I thought I saw you earlier,” if Simon was surprised, he didn't let his voice betray it.

“Where?” you asked, tilting your head inquisitively.

“Yesterday, on the street.”

You tried your best not to visibly wilt as you began your retreat.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

Simon squinted in confusion, “What for?”

"I didn't realize you didn't want me to— and then I go barging in on your life like—"

"No, no," Simon interrupted, realizing what you were trying to stammer out. “I wasn’t avoiding you. I just—“ he tensed for a moment, conflicted as he found his words. "The only reason I didn't talk to you was I wasn’t quite sure whether you were real or not.”

Oh. Right. You knew Simon wasn’t normal, but this was a harsh reminder that he was a soldier, with all the messiness that came along with the job title. You felt so silly for forgetting. Soldiers came with body counts. Baggage. Ghosts. You knew firsthand from your brother and Horangi that it could make things, relationships, life… difficult. Worth it, but not easy.

“Does that happen often?” you kept your voice light and airy. He trusted you enough to confide this, you didn’t want him to regret the decision or fear that he'd scared you off.

“Not when I’m on the right meds. Glad to know you’re real, means I don’t need a new prescription.”

A devious smirk emerged on your face, “Only happy at that?”

“No… it’s just—“ After all your angsting over seeing him, it was nice to see someone else do the squirming for once. It was also kinda cute. There was a power in your words having this man, this killer, damn near flustered. “It’s good to see you. Really good.”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Likewise.” You approached him slowly, gently placing your hands on his forearm. "See, real as can be."

Ghost's expression remained unchanged, but his pale face flushed.

"Good. Did you come here just to see me or…"

"Or what?" you asked, curious as to his suggestion.

"Well, I am supposed to be supervising open gym. Did'ya want to spar?"

You pondered for a moment. "I wouldn't be against it."

"Any experience with hand to hand?"

You shrugged off your sweater, "I've taken a couple of self defense classes." You kept your answer purposefully vague. He didn't need to know that you'd received many a private lesson from a former ROK Special Mission Brigade member (one who wanted to ensure no harm came to his 여동생). "But not bare-knuckle boxing."

Simon chuckled lowly, "Yeah, 't's not the most practical style."

"Then why do you…"

"On the battlefield, you do what you have to to survive. Playing dirty isn't just allowed, it's required. I'm used to taking any advantage I can. It's… nice to not do that for once. To let my skills stand on their own." A wry smile. "Make sure they haven't atrophied too much." His smile dropped, "But let's not box."

"Why not? Think I can't handle it?"

"It's not… I just, I don't want to hit you." There was something in his tone that hinted that striking someone he—well, you didn't know if "loved" was the right term yet, but someone he cared about hit a little too close to home. "Let's…" he thought for a moment, "wrestle instead. Would that be alright?"

"Sure."

"Let's try starting with a simple lockup. Normally I would try to pair you with someone closer to your weight class but," he gestured at the empty room, "not really an option right now. Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

He wasn't lying. His grip was gentle, with no force or malice behind it. Arms wrapped around each other, he offered little resistance as you twisted, catching him off guard and knocking him down.

Simon was pleasantly surprised.

"That's good," he said from the ground, still flat on his back. "Solid form."

"Beginner's luck," you responded bashfully, bending down to look at his face. The same eyes you saw at the prison stared back up at you.

Getting to his feet, Simon ordered "Another."

While a little more cautious, he still wasn't fully on alert. This was a mistake.

THWAP!

Once again, he hit the mat first.

This time, Simon stood up with a dangerous look in his eyes.

No orders this time as he wordlessly commanded you to lock up again.

His grip still wasn't entirely engaged. You assumed that he still hadn't learned his lesson. You were wrong.

He didn't try to overpower you, use his size or use his muscular advantage to force you to the ground.

He just moved, darting with a quickness unfathomable for a man of his size. You blinked, and it was your turn to hit the floor. Looking up at the ceiling, you could see Simon's shit-eating grin staring back at you. For such a quiet man, he really did have an expressive face. You wondered how that worked on the field. Maybe he mostly did stuff over the comms.

You got up carefully, a plan blooming in your mind.

"I want to go again."

Simon happily obliged you, locking up. He gave you an opening to attack. When you did nothing, he went for a repeat of the last round.

Only this time you knew better.

This time, as your body fell, you tucked and rolled: resulting in you on top, triumphant. Simon seemed a little impressed. You were about to brag when— BAM! He used your distracted state to flip you, now pinning you beneath him. You squirmed trying to get any leverage, to no avail. His weight was enough to trap you. His unmoving weight. Simon had frozen, going deathly still.

Why— oh. Oh.

Simon was the first one to break the silence.

"Do you know how to get out of this?"

"I have a guess."

"Guessing isn't good enough," he chided. "Not when somebody wants to kill you. Or—" he inhaled sharply. "Worse."

You didn't like that you couldn't see his face right now. Using Horangi's training, you strained against him as if trying to brute force your way out—only to juke him, suddenly striking the other way, and driving your elbow into the soft of his solar plexus. He fell off you with a low groan at a timbre that made you blush.

Finally you could see his face. Despite now grimacing from the pain, he also appeared to be… relaxed by it and its grounding familiarity.

"Good practice," he declared, still a little weak.

"You're a good teacher," you sat up beside him.

"I'm afraid I didn't teach you very much."

"A good partner then,. Simon's demeanor seemed to ever so slightly brighten at your words. You laughed, leaning back. "I need a shower."

He winced.

"The ones at the gym are broken."

"Shit!"

Simon raised an eyebrow as if saying that was a bit of an extreme reaction, innit?

"What's wrong?"

"The hostel I'm staying in doesn't have a shower."

Simon's nose wrinkles, "Doesn't sound like it'd smell all that pleasant."

"It really isn't."

A beat.

And Simon spoke up, voice as fragile as his hopes.

"You could come to my place."

[mogruith]

OC Deep Dive Tag

Thanks for tagging me @majorasnightmare!! This was a really awesome thinking exercise. It took me way longer than it should've to finish (work has been a lot lately) but I finally did it.

No pressure tags for @susann-noir @nemo-of-house-hamartia @mystxmomo @autisticdrizzt @twilight-sanctuary @albweado @moonshine-over-troubled-water any OC of your choice.

Phobias and Other Fears

Being alone. Or being far from his sister for extended periods. He's had his twin sister by his side his whole life and they've always looked out for each other. When she's not near him, it's as if he's lost a sense or a limb. He's managed this a few times but he absolutely hates it. Stagnation. Improve or perish. Climb that ladder, boy. For like actual phobias, I feel like I should mention his fear of Lolth but I think it's eclipsed by his anger. That said, spiders get the side-eye. But I'm not sure I'd call it a phobia.

Pet Peeves

Slow decision making and waffling. If you need to draw out a plan and take the time to do it, that's one thing. If you are indecisive, Coranzan is going get impatient and try to take over. Yes, he's kind of a dick. Additionally, talking down to him/being patronizing/dismissive.

3 items you could find in their bedroom

Coranzan keeps very little besides his armor, high-quality clothing, and a couple instruments - but those are boring things to list. There'd be items that allude to his vanity - an elaborate grooming kit, scented oils, and white dye that Z'ress uses to paint on Coran's forehead markings. Bonus: You'd also find a box of silver and moonstone knickknacks collected by his sister and donated to him. She tends to get sticky fingers and then gives some of the Eilistraee-adjacent items to him as something of an offering as a lay-worshipper. As they're seen as gifts from Eilistraee, he wears or keeps them until he can find a temple to offer them.

First thing they notice in a person

Probably a common answer but eyes are the window to the soul. Although he grew up avoiding eye contact, he has discovered the power in keeping his gaze locked on another's. Whether he's searching them to detect if they're enjoying a story he's telling or if they're lying, it's been beneficial skill.

On a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

I'd say something like a 7-8 or so. Pretty high pain tolerance but not absurdly so. I think it kind of came with the territory of some of his past work.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Fight for sure. Coranzan is fairly good at assessing the field and determining a path forward in a time-sensitive situation. It's not always the best or the safest path but it IS a well-reasoned path in a dire situation. The big picture/large scope planning belongs to his sister.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

A big family? No, at least he's not aware of most of whoever might exist outside his immediate family. But connected to his immediate family? Absolutely. Besides being tied at the hip with his twin sister, Z'ress, he's also very close to his parents. His parents' faith were inspiration to his path of becoming a Cleric of Eilistraee. He also has a grandmother who has managed to survive long enough to still be in his life and an uncle on his father's side that they're close with.

What animal represents them best?

The only animal I've ever thought about is night-singing birds like blackbirds and nightingales: I feel like Coranzan liked hearing them at night when he first came to the surface and became really fond of them. Also, I feel like we've all envied a bird's ability to fly away from whatever situation they're in.

What is a smell that they dislike?

The smell of exhaust and lubricants from machines and mechanical constructs like the Steel Watch. Coran hadn't encountered very many of these kind of creatures before, but encountering so many in Baldur's Gate resulted in a strong dislike of the smell.

Have they broken any bones?

Coran is a pretty nimble person but also has a tendency to go pretty hard on whatever new skill he's obsessed with. So I'll say he's probably broken a bone or two in his time but he's pretty good at avoiding it usually.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

A stranger would likely get the aloof version of Coranzan. Unless he needed something of that stranger, then he'd turn on the charm. The aloof version of Coran would be quiet with constant studying looks, and intense eye contact. This would probably come off as intimidating to some, especially given he's obviously drow. The charming version of Coranzan would be all smiles and definitely trying to get you to forget that he's drow. He's all compliments, winks, and friendly taps to the shoulder/arm. A stranger's opinion will certainly vary based on what side they get but either way, he is a rather pretty face and that lets him get away with a lot among strangers (depending on their view of drow, ofc).

Are they a night owl or morning bird?

Night owl. Fuck the sun. Despite having been on the surface long enough to adjust, he is uncomfortable under it. Sadly, surfacers operate around the gods damned sun, so between that and Coran just generally not able to sit still for long, Coran doesn't get a lot of rest.

What is a flavour they hate and a flavour they love?

First of all, Coran is terrible at cooking and probably hates anything he's made in the field, to start. But broadly flavor-wise, Coranzan hates spicy/picante flavors (which hurts me deeply in my soul), and prefers earthy flavors. On the surface, he's come to appreciate the herbs and spices that can be added to those earthy flavors though.

Do they have any hobbies?

Song collecting (by ear), dancing (not just the Eilistraee-type stuff), reading different cultures fables, journaling/letter-writing, and some kind of skill-based strength training activity in rotation: think bodyweight progressions, gymnastics, rock-climbing.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

Surprises in general? Coranzan can roll with the punches and pivots easily, at least with regards to pleasant things. A BIRTHDAY party in particular would be really unexpected. By now, everyone's seen the lore bit about how drow men don't celebrate their birthdays. Coran's birthday was celebrated vicariously through his sister's birthday (given they're twins) and in private, they would celebrate together. But someone ELSE in on this? He'd probably have a very strong emotional reaction to it - primarily feeling really bashful about it to start but very quickly LOVING the attention lavished upon him suddenly.

Do they like to wear jewellery?

Yes - although most of my images of Coranzan do not show any jewelry (he removes everything when "on duty"), he likes to wear a lot of silver rings and piercings along his ears.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Neat handwriting - Coran writes a lot and eventually writes some of his stories and songs in an ornate style for his collections. He then hands these off to his sister for border decorations. A series of these are kept in a folio he keeps around.

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Pride and inadequacy occupy his mind in the quiet moments. For the most part, he feels he's pretty accomplished given how he started as a dirt-poor drow male in Menzoberranzan with no prospects. But then again, comparatively speaking, he hardly amounts to anything and has spent so much time attempting to accomplish the bare minimum (in his mind) - it sometimes feels like he's behind.

Do they have a favourite fabric?

First off, Coran would rather NOT be wearing a lot of clothes (or any at all if he can get away with it). But when he does, it has to be something lightweight and comfortable for him to tolerate it (you can imagine how much he hates wearing heavy armor). Mix that with the fact that he's a bit of a peacock when it comes to clothes, so he'd prefer fancy silks if he can get his hands on them. When he does, he takes meticulous care of it so it lasts.

What kind of accent do they have?

Coranzan was born in a pretty dirt-poor part of Menzoberranzan, so his baseline accent was Deep Drow. He's now spent somewhere around 130-ish years out of Menzoberranzan - split between the Undermountain and Waterdeep. So his Common is decent enough but a slight accent remains - he spends much of his time conversing with his family and other drow, so he can go a long time without speaking Common on the surface, depending where he is in his life. As a side-tangent: He can imitate the noble sound of High Drow to a limited extent and sometimes borrows the phrasing of that dialect to imply a noble sound in theatrical story-telling. Although he has a very good ear for the sound, he hasn't been around it enough to speak it enough to pass for a noble - the result of is a rugged take on a noble sound that can be endearing to some or hated by others. Shout out to @mystxmomo for their awesome discussion on Drow dialects to get my head straight on some of that (although I'm inserting some of my own minor stuff here).

[somegrumpynerd]

Actually it turns out I had more thoughts about that post that I forgot about lol

Would Nightmare actually give up his boys? Yes and no

If it was just a black and white situation of they're miserable, they don't wanna be here, they have somewhere better to be, then yes. He would leave them out to wherever they needed to be despite his own feelings and very quickly realise afterwards just how much he'd gotten used to the noise and company. I think he would get a little clingy with Dream about it, which I'm sure Dream would find very weird after everything but not unwelcome, he did miss his brother after all.

(If he couldn't attach himself to Dream's side for whatever reason, I think he might just sit in his castle and go insane. Or maybe he'd just spend all day at Ccino's trying really hard to project that he just likes the atmosphere and isn't lonely as hell)

But the thing is, most of them don't have somewhere better to be. Horror has his au, and Nightmare would keep up the supply of food even if Horror said he wanted to quit at this point, so he would understandably let him return home. Killer, Dust and Cross effectively don't have aus anymore though, and they tend to get into self-destructive habits when they're left to their own devices. (Obviously bringing Color and Epic into the mix to make sure Killer and Cross are taken care of eases matters, but Dust doesn't really have any friends outside their group he could go stay with - that Nightmare knows about at least).

The flipside of this is that his boys may not necessarily want to be given up. I think if Nightmare got really in his head about this he could easily end up convinced this is the right thing to do without ever asking them if it's what they want, with potentially terrible results. He's established such a pattern of always returning to find Killer when they get seperated, that if he never showed up Killer might just keep sitting there and waiting for him greyfriar's bobby style, refusing to leave because he's certain his boss is coming back.

[nicorobinphd]

stg, being an enjoyer of jane twdg is like being forced into an expert-level course on the way misogyny manifests in video game spaces.

god forbid a woman be complex or difficult or provably mischaracterized (see tags) at the end of her arc to service the culmination of a man’s storyline.

[primus-why]

I Feel TFOne Could've Handled This Better...

Hot take but I feel like folks have been really generous with the take that OP was unable to find ~the perfect words~ in the heat of the moment (and thus should be given some grace) when he told D to stand down and "not be like Sentinel"... namely cuz I don't feel that the narrative supports this?

Like-- after all is said and done, OP doesn't reflect on that part of their split. He doesn't have a moment where he seeks validation or voices his regrets over the choice of his words, it's actually cut-and-dry. The narrative (as it stands) supports that OP saw D-16 acting up, so he called him out and stood on business, down to the last scenes where he's basically like "yeah it's a shame but y'all knew I had to do it to 'em."

It didn't have to be much! I'm not saying to absolve Megs, just show OP looking at things from a different perspective/contemplating a bit on that tough choice and the morality of the moment. Some examples of what I wish we had:

B-127 straight up blurting the obvious by later chatting with Orion like, "Wait so you told your best friend that he was acting just as bad as the guy who enslaved us for our entire lives and was torturing him like an hour ago? Oof. Seems kinda harsh." Then have some of OP's regret show on his face.

OP asking Elita-1 after Megs is banished if he did the right thing. Have Elita back his choice up, saying, "You should have seen what he did after you were... gone. It was terrifying. I know it was tough, but you made the right call." OP is grateful for the support, but a conflicted look still flashes across his face before he steels himself to look out towards the horizon... and the future.

Have OP walk past other mechs/former miners who didn't go with the High Guard saying stuff like, "Wish I could've given Sentinel a piece of my mind!" "Yeah, but I'm glad he's gone for good." "Ugh I miss everything." "Oh, it was crazy! Megatron picked him up and then he rrrrriiipped-- oops, hey there, Mr. Optimus... Prime... sir?" And have OP wave hello, looking a bit sick when they leave.

Post-credits scene with Starscream going on and on, asking Megs when they'll be back to teach the upstart Prime a lesson. Megs grabs his face to shut him up. "Patience, Starscream. The Prime thinks I'm no better than Sentinel... but I'll show him. He wants Iacon? He can have it. In the meantime we'll take the rest of the planet! Then I'll come back, crush Prime under my heel, and we'll take Iacon too. Sentinel's reign will barely be a footnote, because I'm about to become Optimus Prime's worst nightmare." The vocal performance would really need to sell this-- like picture Megs saying something like that from a place of anger and hurt, not so much a place of genuine evil or malice.

Basically instead of Orion's assertion being backed up as black and white/good vs bad, I wish we had some different opinions/reactions from the characters sprinkled in there. Like you can't tell me out of allllll the miners who weren't strong enough/willing to go with the High Guard and ended up sticking around that NONE of them were like "eyyo honestly?? Kiiiiinda glad Sentinel is dead. Wish I could have helped, tbh." like come onnnnn...

And you can't even argue that he's not an active threat-- I don't think everyone would see things that way! It's not just about the threat he physically has, but the threat he represents and is very likely to act upon if given the opportunity! He has a proven track record of not only being sneaky and conniving, but also capable of dealing some serious damage/killing people bigger and stronger than him, plus he has the backing of the Quints. All he'd need to do is wriggle his way out of jail and run off to his sponsors, then he'd probably be back to hurt more people! (If the Quints didn't just kill him out of incompetence lmao). There's a lot of "ifs" here, but I think it's a valid argument that not everyone would agree on what is the right or wrong way to handle Sentinel once he was down long enough to, like, do something about him.

I feel the situation needed a bit of nuance. In some way I wish they had kicked the can and had D and Orion bicker while Sentinel escaped, then have D get frustrated enough by the loss of Sentinel to point fingers (and his fusion canon) at Orion, who then falls and becomes OP. (Megs could still show some of thar emotion/remorse right after he does it too.) Not only would this open the door for a sequel, but tbh the Quint might have just killed Sentinel anyways and sought to deal with the miners uprising themselves lol. (Maybe that could have been an after credits scenes too instead of the B-127 bit??)

Would love to see a moment in a sequel where they have a calmer moment after arguing for a bit. Have OP mention how Megs was out of line, that it hurt and even scared him to see him act that way, and Megs can quietly point out "you said I was as bad as Sentinel... is that really how you see me? After everything we went through?"

Then OP can fumble the bag again lmao like "D, I... I'm sorry, that didn't come out right... but you still took things way too far..."

"Why am I not surprised-- your opinion is what matters the most! Maybe that's why you became a Prime, since you're so good at acting like the world revolves around you--!"

*gets interrupted by someone else before another yelling match ensues*

[add1ctedt0you]

[zoennes]

30 NOVEMBER, 2019 • ZATERDAG, 09:41

[uselessnbee]

what i wish people would also explore more when it comes to Percy is the other side of his feelings about his mom about family and his childhood but this fandom is too afraid to paint Sally even in the slightest bad light (even if it's not bad just acknowledging her flaws because she's a human being and not perfect) that no one will touch on that subject. like yes Sally is the best mom but she also isn't and that's the thing! She isn't perfect! but she tried her best but her best still got Percy hurt and it isn't her fault at all but that's the tragedy of it. i want Percy's feelings about this explored. how he grew up with a loving mom but an abusive step father. how his step father would humiliate him and call him stupid but then his mom soothed him and told him he's not the things Gabe calls him. how Gabe would hurt him and Sally would be there to make him happy and loved but at the same time she stayed with him. i want Percy's feelings explored about how he knows his mother loves him but her absence still hurt him. she would work so much to have money to raise him she did that for him but at the same time it meant Percy was left alone or with Gabe. Sally gave up so much for him, she sent him away to protect him but at the same time he was sent away from his mom. she's the only parent he has because his father is absent and Gabe is not actually a parental figure at all but she's also often absent in his life too and that must have left him with such mixed feelings because it's not all black and white! Sally's love protected him but also hurt him. Percy loves his mom so so so much but there's also this deep-seated bitterness and hurt and anger he never let himself feel and then the guilt for having those feelings because his mom loves him he knows that and she gave up so much for him and she married a monster that abused her to protect him, he knows that but it doesn't make it hurt any less. the mess his emotions are because he knows his mom suffered for him and did it from her love for him but he still desperately wishes she never married that monster that he wouldn't have to have the childhood he had with him that he wouldn't have to live with the trauma he was left with. this all is exactly what makes their relationship so fascinating and also heartbreaking.

or the idea of Percy having weird mixed feelings after Estelle is born because that's his little sister and he loves her with his whole heart and would do anything for her and wants only the best for her but there's also this little jealous monster deep down that wonders why she gets to have a loving mom and a loving dad and a happy normal life but he never got that. why does she deserve it but not him? why couldn't he have that too? doesn't he deserve that too? he was just a child too so why why why??? and then the guilt of feeling that way too it makes me want to scream. emotions are fucking messy and they can be really ugly and they can make you hate yourself and there's no way Percy's feelings aren't a mess when it comes to this and i want to see it explored so badly!

and with Sally too! her feelings about Percy because she did so much and tried her best but sometimes unfortunately your best isn't good enough and it still got her beloved son hurt and she hates it and feels so guilty but she just has to live with that but she can't help to wish it was different. that their lives would be different. better. normal. she can't help but to wish she didn't have to do the things she's done, didn't have to suffer so much just to protect her child. can't help to wish she didn't have to worry so much, didn't have to be so scared about Percy, didn't have to be terrified that one day he won't come back home to her, that she won't be able to hold her son anymore because he will be gone, she just wishes he didn't have to suffer so much, she just wishes and wishes and wishes

and i just wish people weren't so afraid to explore this because it's so heartwrenching and yes if you want something do it yourself but unfortunately i cannot write nor am i able to handle this topic in a way it deserves so i am left only with rambling about it on here thank you

[rustedleopard]

So you guys remember how after Hinawa was announced as dead, Flint was immediately tossed into jail after he (very understandably) lashes out in his grief. And then by the time he breaks out of jail (not released by a fellow Tazmillian, breaks out with a nail file), the service is already over and she's buried six feet under the dirt with no proper goodbye from her husband or even a glimpse at her or anything???

That was fucked up