#hence the few seconds delay

[mischievous-thunder]

Give the silly man some time to type, Logie Bear!

[dykeishh]

lessons in lust

ellie williams x fem reader

synopsis: ellie meets with her hot tutor for calculus and somehow ends with an anatomy lesson! 

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI, dealer!ellie (throwback asf), tutor!reader, slightly dom!ellie, cunnilingus, public sex (they don’t get caught tho), a bit of teasing, both reader and ellie are just sluts basically. not proofread :3

a/n: heyyy the way i wrote this in literally 2023 and it's just been in my notes… hence slight dealer!ellie appearance LOL its also barely relevant to the story but I just think tutor!reader x dealer!ellie is a hot pairing. also ellie being lowkey dominant in this is so funny cuz i'm really in my sub!ellie era… but its still hot honestly. anyways hope y'all enjoy!

——————————————————————

ellie sighed as she looked at her current course score, knowing she was about to fail her calculus class if she didn’t start getting decent grades soon. she cursed herself for picking astrophysics as a major, recalling how she ‘thought it sounded cool’ and failed to consider that she would need to take difficult math classes.

she didn’t hate it, but she was falling behind as she allowed her ‘business’ to take up most of her time. it was easy to get caught up, and she was pretty proud of herself once the money really started raking in, but was quickly humbled when she remembered she couldn’t afford to retake a foundational course to her major. 

that was how ellie found herself tapping her shoes against the library chair, waiting for her calculus tutor to arrive. she blew out a sigh from her pursed lips as she scrolled mindlessly through her phone, in a daze—so much so that she hadn’t noticed you walk up to the round table until you said, “hi, are you ellie?”

she looked up, a bit startled by your voice in the quiet library, especially because she had picked a spot in the back, away from other people and their chatters. 

she took a second to respond, partially because she had expected some kind of geeky math nerd to be her tutor--especially since it was through the school. however, the main reason for her delayed response was because she knew you.

well, knew is an overstatement, you were a bit of a crush that ellie had in one of her classes. she had never made a move to talk to you, but she often indulged herself by staring at your legs, barely covered by the short skirts you wore to class, and fantasizing about the sounds you’d make with her face between them. she noticed you were wearing a similar skirt today and her mind already started racing, but she quickly snapped out if it. 

“hi, yeah that’s me.”

“i’m y/n, i’ll be working with you today,” you said, smiling at her. she felt her heart rate increase, but she made sure to play it cool. “oh, nice, thanks.” you gave her a slight smile aam pulled your chair in next to her. 

“so, where should we start?”

—————————

after several minutes of going over the subjects taught in the course, ellie’s mind had started to wander back to your short skirt and your words faded into the background as she wondered how quiet she could be while fucking you in the library. you can feel her eyeing you up as you spoke, and try to keep your voice steady regardless of how nervous she’s making you feel. how are you supposed to teach her while she’s practically undressing you with her eyes?

“so, can you show me how you could solve this kind of problem?”, you ask. after a few moments of silence and ellie scratching her head, you giggle, noticing she looks a bit spaced out.

“jeez, am i that boring of a tutor that you’re zoning out?”, you tease. she chuckles and shakes her head, “no, not at all. these kinds of problems just confuse me is all, i really don’t know where to start.”

you scoot your chair closer to her and aren’t sure if you imagine hearing her breath hitch. 

“okay so, show me exactly where you’re having problems."

—————————

“holy shit. you’re a fucking genius. or a saint. both—whatever. i can’t believe i actually understand this,” ellie scoffs in disbelief. 

you smile at ellie and and shrug, “you had it in you. sometimes it just takes a bit of a push. i’m sure you’ll do great on your tests.”

ellie looks at you with a suddenly soft expression, suddenly realizing her appreciation for your help and being so patient with her. she also realizes that she might have a thing for nerds. she would be lying if she didn’t find your intelligence extremely sexy, as if you weren’t already hot enough.

“so, how am i going to repay you for this, y/n?” she asks, leaning towards you and brushing a hair out of your face. 

you let out a shy laugh at her sudden boldness, caught off guard by the cute girl’s fingers brushing against your skin. 

funnily enough, you had heard about ellie before. there was a small number of queer students on campus, and an even smaller circle of queer girls. and as it usually happens, lots of you knew of each other. in fact, you and ellie were both hooking up with the same girl, which was how you knew about her. just based on this, you assumed she was a bit of a womanizer, and her obvious flirting with you now seemed to align with this idea. 

but you aren’t put off by this—in fact, it only makes her more intriguing to you. behind your studious math-nerd image, you aren’t all that innocent either. 

“please, i already get paid to tutor. i’m just doing my job, so you don’t have to thank me any special way,” you reply, amusement laced in your tone.

“i know i don’t have to,” she states simply, “i want to. you helped me out, and i think it’s only right that i return the favor.” as she says this, ellie places her hand on your thigh, slowly moving it up as she looks into your eyes, waiting for a reaction. 

you raise an eyebrow at her, but once you smirk, ellie knows it’s game over. you lean in forward and lower your voice. “y’know, i think you might be right. i did, after all, save your grade in this class didn’t i?” 

you decide you’ll play along and see where this goes. after all, she was fucking hot. when she smirks at your response, you almost start drooling. 5 minutes ago, you were focused on integrals, but now all your brain can think is how fucking badly you want those long fingers to keep moving up your leg. 

“so how exactly are you going to repay me?” you ask, although you already had an idea of what she had in mind. 

even though ellie was hoping for this situation, she couldn’t believe you were actually down. when she realizes this, it goes straight to her clit. was she really about to fuck her hot tutor? 

ellie suddenly starts lowering herself under the desk.

“i think i can help you better down here.”

you just about come right in that moment, looking down at her mischievous green eyes from beneath you. your breath hitches and you look around to make sure that nobody is watching. 

“fuck. that’s so hot. okay… you just-you have to tell me if i’m being too loud, okay?”

ellie nods and can’t seem to wipe that smirk off her face as she crawls forward and positions her face so she could look under your skirt. you spread your legs slightly for her access and you can immediately feel her hot breath on your inner thighs, causing you to shudder. she looks up at you, making direct eye contact as she leaves wet kisses on your thighs, teasing you, even in this moment where she should be going quickly as to not get caught.

you bite your lip when she drags her middle finger over your clothed heat, then slowly rubs your clit through the pink fabric. you hear her curse to herself and you feel yourself getting wetter as each excruciating moment passes. after a few moments, she pulls your panties to the side to view your soaked pussy. 

“you’re already so wet,” she quietly groans. you almost whine when she brings her mouth so close to your center, looking up at you from her hooded eyelids and just holding herself there to tease you just a little bit longer. 

ellie takes a mental snapshot of your desperate expression as you look down at her, with your lips between your teeth and eyebrows furrowed. but she can’t wait any longer herself. needing to taste you, she licks a long strip from up your pussy and you immediately find yourself choking back a moan. 

ellie seems pleased by your reaction and starts leaving wet kisses on your clit, sucking lightly as she pulls away and alternating with gentle flicks of her tongue. its driving you absolutely crazy how gentle and slow she’s being, and you start to roll your hips to satiate her relentless teasing. she knows that it’s not enough but she’s also aware of how much more wet it’s making you. 

she sucks a little harder on your clit and your head falls back as you gasp in pleasure. then she pulls away, lightly smacking your thigh. 

“uh uh, keep looking at me. i want you to watch me while i make you feel good, baby,” she murmurs before she dives back in.

you pull your head back down to watch her with your mouth slightly agape and see her low-lidded eyes are clouded with lust. your back arches as you feel her the pressure of her tongue increase and watch her bob her head up and down under your skirt. ellie isn’t holding back and you can hear the messy, wet noises her mouth makes against your cunt in the quiet library. everything about the situation was borderline pornographic, and you almost feel dizzy from how much it was turning you on. without stopping her mouth movements, you feel her one of her fingers rub against your entrance before plunging deep into your cunt, causing you to let out a little moan. her eyes flick up back to yours, giving you a dangerous look as a warning. one of your hands clasps over your mouth to muffle your sounds as best you can. 

“feels good, doesn’t it?” she whispers, and you nod in response, causing her to tsk at you. “i want to hear you say it. tell me how good i’m making you feel,” she demands, slipping in a second finger. 

when you remove your hand, you accidentally let out another small whimper, and you respond as best as you can, “it f-feels so good. fuck, it’s too good,” you whisper, eyes rolling back into your skull.

satisfied with your answer, she reattaches her mouth to your clit and sucks harshly, forcing you to bite your fingers to hold back your sounds. her fingers speed up as well, and you can hear the lewd sounds of your wetness even louder now. you’re getting dangerously close, and she can tell by how your insides clench around her fingers. 

“s-shit, i’m close, ellie,” you half-whisper, half-whine. 

“i know, baby.”

she continues her assault with her tongue and fingers, doing her best to drive you crazy. she can feel her own wetness growing between her legs as she listens to your muffled sounds. when she sees your face, all fucked out and desperate, she nearly cums on that alone. “you gonna come for me?”

“mhmm,” you whimper, unable to respond properly as your mind and body are completely clouded with pleasure. your hands find her hair, needing somewhere to grab as the intensity became too much for you, causing her to moan into you, and the vibrations of her voice push you over the edge.

your body freezes up completely for a moment, then jolts as your release hits you, hard. you can’t help but moan and your legs shake as she keeps her pace, prolonging your orgasm for as long as she can. when the overstimulation becomes too much, you push her head away from you causing her lips to detach from you with a pop. you gasp for air and your body trembles as you come down from your high. 

when your vision unblurs, you see her still between your legs, lips and chin covered in a combination of your wetness and her spit, and watch her smirk before she cleans her fingers off with her mouth. it’s the most erotic view you’ve ever seen—you could cum a second time.

she helps you put your panties back on and slowy rises from under the table, looking around to make sure the coast is still clear. she chuckles when she sees you still slumped in your chair, recovering and wraps her arm around your waist to help you up. 

“how was that for repayment?” she teases.

you laugh, still out of breath, hoping that she’d be setting up more sessions with you in the future.

[coffeetank]

Writing ROMANTIC TENSION!

When you're writing romance, you need to have TENSION. Your characters need to pull your readers into the story with not just their dialogues, but also their chemistry. What is tension, you ask? It's quite simple. When two people are attracted to each other, or like each other, or are in love with each other, it causes a certain shift in the air. When these two people come together, they seem to outshine everyone else in the room and make it just about themselves (in a good way ofc). This shift in the air which hooks you into the scene is called tension. The chemistry that your main characters carry, will infact carry the whole story --- if you're writing romance, i.e.

How do you write this romantic tension? Well, as someone who's been writing romance for 4 years now, here's a few things I do to show the chemistry between my characters.

Show, don't tell: This is probably the most common advice you'll ever receive. And spoiler alert: IT IS TRUE. Any scene that includes an emotion will require you to show it, visualise it for the crowd instead of just writing it down. Romance, love, is a sensitive emotion. The readers need to SEE it happening, instead of just reading about it. Eye contact, long stares, switching their gaze from the eyes to the lips & back to the eyes, coming close for a few seconds, banter-turned-flirting are some ways you can show the chemistry.

Intimacy is key: Proximity. Closeness. Coming together. Put your characters in situations where they have to work together. Show their differences/similarities in handling tasks and make them argue or slightly quarrel if there's any differences and show them rejoicing if there's an agreement. Intimacy lies in more than just the body, bring out a quality in your characters, preferably a good one, in your characters when they're together. Make that quality their strong suit that drives them closer.

Words are sexy: Dialogues can create tension better than anything else (in my opinion). Notice how every time your ships/pairings are bantering, one of them ends up saying something sexual or romantic in a frisky way and we end up blushing like crazy? Yep, that's the goal. We absolutely love it when the guy says "oh yeah?" or ends up calling the girl a cute nickname while bantering. Dialogues can reach out to readers in a more personal way because they are the direct interactions between your characters. Make your OTP interact and have fun (pun intended!)

Add restraint: Sometimes, when the characters are almost about to kiss and someone interrupts them, we feel like throwing the book away. But at the same time, we want more because we want to see our characters kiss, or confess, or even get down dirty ;). You have put your characters in each other's close proximities, given them a driving force and added a razzle-dazzle with the dialogues and flirting! Yet, something is missing and the romance feels too....predictable? Put a constraint. This is especially important for slowburns. Personally, I love me a slowburn - it creates higher tension, emphasises on a foundation between characters and makes the kiss/confession/sex even more hot (again, my opinion). I suggest, a hint of a barrier won't do any harm. When you've reached the level of tension where it's normal for your characters to kiss or make-out, your readers are more focused than ever. Adding a restraint will make them crave the romance more and hence, stay hooked into the story. HOWEVER, DON'T STALL THE PROJECT. Just because your characters got interrupted in chapter 7 doesn't mean they can't kiss till chapter 15 or something. If they don't kiss in this chapter, they kiss after maybe 2-3 more chapters. You want to delay the romance only by a tad bit, so that your readers are still interested.

That's all I have for today! I hope these help you guys! - ashlee.

[gloster]

FAVORITE FANFICS OF 2024

2024 is/will/already over....and dear gosh, this year really kicked my butt. Drained me dry. Did a number on me mentally, emotionally, and even my wallet took too many hits. But I live to see another day & enter another year.

As always, the things helped me get through this year was friends both fandom & IRL, good movies, good shows, good music from familiar favs with new albums to KPOP, and of course FANFICS.

Every year fanfic writers both familiar & new to me blow me away with their talent, their writing, their brilliance. And every year I always do this traditional post to give them their flowers. Hence, the reason for this sweet lil' post of mine.

This is a little Tumblr tradition I've been doing now for a whooping 6 years & I look forward to it every time. It's my own favorite of fanfic rec lists. I did ones for 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, & 2023 if you're interested.

Without further ado, here are my favs.

1). however wild by @sayesayes & @noxarcanaart (steddie)

Summary: Prince Steve has always been told to stay out of the forest. And he does… when he’s awake.

This story ����this story🖤 this story 🖤this story 🖤 This beautiful, beautiful, incredibly addicting dark jewel is the reason why I was sucked into the steddie fandom- the amazingness that is this story, the beautiful fanart done by @noxarcanaart, & my bestie @dreamydrarry who was determined to pull me into the steddie ship b/c she needed a friend to gush with.

Fun fact. I saved this story on my marked for later for my friend @dreamydrarry b/c this story sounded right up her alley. However, I was too intrigued, particularly thanks to the key word: fae. I love fae. That's one of my magical creatures to read about in fantasy, so whenever I see it mentioned in a story, I have to read. For this one, I decided to read it. And I've never been the same again.

This story was just a masterpiece. A pure masterpiece from beginning to end, living rent-free in my head where I keep thinking about it, Prince Steve being so gentle & brave, fae-Eddie being wicked one second and so devoted the next.

I purposefully delayed my reading because I didn't want it to end. And once I finished, I immediately hopped on to see what other steddie stories @sayesayes had.

Honorable mentions:

genius loci

Flight Risk

locust year

(there is) thunder in our hearts

girlskin

too good to be true

daddy talk series

2). you might have some bruises (and a few scars) by @newtonsheffield (kathony/kanthony)

Summary: Matrimony- Gentleman, 27, seeking eligible lady. Respectable income made from farming livestock and barley in Aubrey, Kent. Gentleman lives with, and provides for six younger siblings and is seeking a wife who would tend to their care and education first and foremost. Family is very important and as such would be willing to provide a living for the lady’s family should this be required. Please send responses through Mrs M Williams, Aubrey village. -Mr A E Bridgerton

OR

Dear Mr Bridgerton, I hope this letter finds both you and your family well as I know the end of Winter tends to lend itself to small children finding themselves unwell. I am writing with regards to the advertisement I noted in the newspaper this past Sunday. I am six and twenty and reside in Somerset, where I grew up, with my mother.

OR

Anthony is a handsome farmer in need of a mother for his younger siblings and no time for courting

OR

The marriage of convenience AU no one needed

Once upon a time, I used to despise marriage being used as a trope in stories from arranged marriages to marriages of convenience. As usual- fanfics came along and completely changed my mind. This story is an example of that. This story also made me more open-minded to farming and farmers in stories, which I never thought of before until I stumbled across this story.

@newtonsheffieldis that writer, especially for the kathony/kanthony fandom, feeding us well with the content and love the damn show refuses to give our favs.

Just when I think I can't love Kate & Anthony anymore, this story deepened my love 100000x fold.

Honorable mentions:

Cupboards

(I feel) the lavender haze creeping up on me

3). I know I've kissed you before (Can I try again) by @transmascsteveharrington (steddie)

Summary: “Still not graduated, Harrington?”

It’s something Eddie would have said teasingly when they were teens. Steve would have smacked him on the shoulder, affectionately calling him an asshole before being pulled into an apologetic kiss. But they are not teenagers anymore and Eddie’s voice lacks any of the warmth that used to be reserved for Steve. Now, it’s just loaded with resentment, which, yeah, is a fair reaction.

“I…eh…work here now,” Steve says lamely and points at his office door. “Guidance counselor.”

or: 14 years after his first big heartbreak, Steve's life is relatively stable. It's been two years since the tragic incident that led to him becoming Dustin's guardian, both of them slowly healing. He is doing amazing at his job and his social life is great. Of course, that's when a person from Steve's past has to come and shake everything up.

OH. MY. GOSH. THIS STORY-THIS STORY-THIS STORY-THIS STORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Best way I can describe this story is the famous Lady Gaga meme: talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it.

Second chance romance is incredibly hard to do, which many try (particularly published authors) and very few can pull off. This story did it well where my heart was lifted, speared, crushed, sewed-up, & melted in an orderly fashion.

4). Living The Unknown Dream by @blushweddinggowns (steddie)

Summary: “How are you feeling?” Steve asked, all wide-eyed and caring.

Eddie gaped at him, fully aware that his entire face must be red. He was trying to form words, he really was, but Steve single handedly put the brakes on that.

Why was Steve Harrington holding his hand? Why was Steve Harrington calling him baby ?

Why did he kiss him, like it was the most natural thing in the world?

Only fanfic writers. Only fanfic writers can take tropes that usually don't tend to stick and turn them into brilliant stories. Amnesia trope is one I've grown to loathe after getting burnt- and incredibly frustrated by it- too many times in other stories. But with this one, I was too intrigued and oh how I fell. Oh how I was proven wrong. And I'm so happy for it.

Yet another story that just deepened my love for a ship that I already carried such deep love for, but then this story came along and it increased 1000000000x.

5). The Yellow Tulips of Texas by @folklauerate (kathony/kanthony)

Summary: Kate runs into a store to get out of the rain, and runs right into a southern gentleman.

(or Texas!Anthony and New Yorker!Kate fall in love)

“You should go,” He says, drawl somehow even stronger now, or is she imagining it? “Most beautiful place on God’s green earth.”

She snorts.

“You laugh now, but just you wait,” He says. “You’ll see, one day.”

“What makes you so sure I’ll go to Texas?”

She has a feeling she knows why he’s so sure, but she asks anyway.

He grins at her.

“A man just knows these things, honey.”

For y'all who didn't think you couldn't be anymore thirsty for Mr. Anthony Bridgerton/ Jonathon Bailey, BEHOLD *presents story in full gusto*. Be Prepared. This story will make you perch for him because 🥵🥵🥵

I do not care for age gap romances. I really don't. Most of what I read usually rub me the wrong way, but the way this one was done, I was greatly impressed. Partially because of their ages where Kate is in her mid-20s & Anthony in his 40s, which isn't too bad. Partially because the writer just knows their stuff and makes magic.

It's because of this story I started hunting for more age-gap romances.

Honorable mentions:

lost in your current like a priceless wine

The MILF in 2B

6). Come Away with Me by FloralUmbrella (kathony/kanthony)

Summary: Anthony and Kate whisk away on their honeymoon. An exploration into the world of intimacy and marriage ensues.

If you are like me, you weren't that particularly impressed with season 3 of Bridgerton for a number of reasons. Including the very very limited scenes of kathony/kanthony, and lack of attention they were given both on-and-off screen.

It's time like this when fanfic writers come through & deliver the content we so desperately need. This story gives us the honeymoon period we were denied in the show, where we see our fav just fall deeper and deeper in love while also learning more about each other.

7). When You Kiss Me (What A Lovely Way To Burn) by @femmequixotic (drarry)

Summary: A drag fairytale of New York in which Draco wears red lipstick and Potter can’t get enough.

An oldie but such a good good goodie. Listen I will always advocate for older fanfics and giving them a chance because you can find some good treasures.

Nothing is more better than going to a story you've been saving forever and it ending up being so much better than expected. Confident Draco in drag, trying to bury the ghosts of his past. Harry stumbling across his club and needing an escape. It's so so so so good.

8). The Librarian by library_fireplace (drarry)

Summary: Draco Malfoy is a reference librarian at a small branch of Britain's wizarding public library system. Harry Potter needs help finding the romance section.

~*~

“Malfoy,” Potter said, slowly. “When did you read The Dragon Tamer?”

Draco felt himself turning pink, and then red. He hadn’t meant to give himself away quite that much, but he also knew that Potter suspected him of following his reading history. He had been found out for his snooping. “I —“ he stuttered embarrassingly, and wanted to melt away into the floor behind the desk. “A few weeks ago, now.”

“And how many romances had you read before that?” Potter pressed, now smirking again, knowingly this time, leaning forward with his arms crossed on the desk. Draco felt himself break out in a shiver that he hoped wouldn’t turn into a sweat.

“Er… None, I’m afraid,” he found himself admitting, even though he had really meant to lie.

“Draco,” Potter smiled. “Did you read it just because I had read it?”

Draco scoffed audibly, but very unconvincingly. “No!”

“I think you did.”

Books have the power to bring people together, even helping old rivals find common ground- and more- within the wonders that lay in their pages. Including some good old smutty smutty.

It's a tale as old as time. Stuffy librarian who believes in "fine literature" A hardcore, shameless romance reader who loves their smut and isn't afraid to show it. This story already was promising featuring Draco as a librarian who has a perfect system for organizing his books. But having Harry be a romance reader whose big stack intrigues Draco into reading, having him fall hard...it's PRICELESS.

9). blood is an aphrodisiac by @cuips-not-cute (steddie)

Summary: There’s a few things Eddie notices when he wakes up.

One, he bites his tongue. It hurts. Of course. The weird thing, though, is he doesn’t taste blood. But he knows he bit it hard and it’s throbbing behind his teeth. He tastes something, and his mouth feels wet but there’s no metallic flavor (metal. He likes metal. He’s remembering). It’s smoother. More earthy.

Two. He’s alone. Completely. No Dustin. Or Robin or Nancy or Steve or anyone.

Three. He’s sore. His whole body aches, his skin is thrumming with it. His neck especially, and his sides like where Steve was bitten, too.

Four. He’s got to blink a couple times to realize this one. Let his eyes adjust from the pitch black of being closed to the dim blue haze of the Upside Down. Yeah, that’s what he realizes. He’s still there.

Five. He’s fuckin’ starving.

In which Eddie wakes up with sharp teeth, Steve has a thing for tongue piercings, and it takes a while for them to figure out what all of that means.

I'm convinced this story was the starter behind the vampire/kas!Eddie fanart I be seeing. Like everytime I see vampire Eddie, I think of this story and the biggest smile spread across my face.

I binged this story. I read it in one sitting-and immediately wanted to go back to the beginning to read all over again. This story felt like one of those urban fantasies, where it's modern day, vampires exist, but they're integrated into modern world. Also despite the fangs and the blood thrist, vampirism has very little to do with the plot and is a stepping stone for these two getting together.

I just how Steve wasn't at all shy about his attraction and just want with it. Meanwhile Eddie is just like 😨🤯😶 I LOVE IT.

Honorable mention:

he could be brave

blinking red light

10). The Stutter and The Freak series by @lexirosewrites (steddie)

Summary: The Hellfire Club can collectively pinpoint the exact day that the formerly ruthless dungeon master known as Eddie “The Freak” Munson became soft. Mostly because it was the same day that Steve “The Stutter” Harrington started school at Hawkins High and became an unofficial member of HFC.

If there's another fanfic writer whose profile I've been devouring, it would be @lexirosewrites. And each one, I get more and more hooked. They have so many stories that I really adored, including the first honorable mentioned that tied with this one for top fav. But there's something about this one that gets me every time.

This one, Steve is such a sweet baby boy who deserved to be protected and Eddie immediately is like, BET, I accept that challenge. Quickly Steve is taken under Dustin's wing, taken into the Hellfire Club, and immediately captures Eddie's heart.

It's a comfort read.

Honorable mentions:

my heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

Silver

Bandaids for the Heart

And now for the Honorable Mentions that were insanely good but due to time & length, couldn’t go into full depth:

Love You Like A Love Song series by eyesofshinigami (steddie; omegaverse steddie w/alpha Steve & omega Eddie, dissolving and switching norms in the ABO on its head, being so sappily in love)

awake for ever in a sweet unrest: california trail steddie by hesjustlikemefr (steddie; California trail, mid-1800s, alpha Eddie x omega Steve, mpreg, age gap w/older Eddie)

Nice & Quiet by nobetterlove (steddie; hard of hearing Steve, Steve slowly losing his hearing, Eddie & the gang helping him all the way)

you're mine, class president by orphan account (tododeku; based on the anime maid sama ft. flirtious shouto x shy izuku, peppered with so much cuteness)

For the Love of Football by olddarkmachine (sheith; football player shiro x loner-keith set in a 4-part college AU that's so much fun)

Hic sunt dracones by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation (steddie; fated mates w/dragon Eddie & prince Steve, delivered with such beautiful devotion and possessiveness that I gobbled up)

There you have it, folks. The fanfics that live rent-free in my head. The fanfics that helped make this year bearable. Done by the amazing writers who deserve all the praise, love, kudos, comments, and more. And whom I definitely will be checking out their future stuff in the future.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

[changenameno]

The Thief (One-Shot)

(Complete)

Summary: You’ve always been quite the troublemaker. And pickpocketing was your favourite pastime. However you hadn’t noticed the bearded man watching you, until it was too late. Whatever will he do with you?

 

Paring: Walter Marshall x Fem. Reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, reader is a thief, being caught, cursing, degrading words, abuse of authority, but reader is enthusiastic about it, enthusiastic consent given, rough sex, p in v

Word count: 2.9K

 

A/N: That scenario has been stuck in my head for some time, so I thought I’d put it into writing. As always any mistakes are my own. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! Thank you and enjoy!❤️✨

 

 !Neither Walter Marshall nor Nomis are my creation!

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Your fingers felt like they would fall off any second now. It was freezing and still, you had purposefully neglected to wear gloves. Why?

Simple, you were lighter fingered when your hands weren’t encased in any sort of fabric. Though right now you wondered if it had been a mistake, since the feeling in your hands had been gone for about an hour.

 

 

You had underestimated the cold front the weather guy had talked about, especially because it was only October.

 

 

Standing to side of the crowd, you watched possible targets go about their day, buying things on the farmers market. Completely unaware of your eagle eyes, keeping track of, where they put their wallets.

 

 

You knew, it was a bit risky pickpocketing right here, because the police had doubled their efforts, since an awful lot of civilians had reported their stolen money or missing wallets in the past few month. So to placid them, they had promised to update the security in the area.

 

 

Though you hadn’t seen said ‘updated security’, you were aware of the possibility of undercover cops. But that did next to nothing to dissuade you from your weekly shopping spree. Normally you didn’t keep watch that long, but you had hoped maybe the cop would show themselves. Hence the delay.

 

Though they didn’t reveal themselves.

 

 

And you didn’t want to wait much longer to relive someone, of the awful burden of carrying so much money around, because your fingers would truly fall off soon. That’s why your eyes were set on your final target.

 

 

A middle aged woman, whose attire looked so expensive and out of place, you were convinced she had some money to spare.

 

 

Before reconsidering and risk being exposed to the cold any longer, you made your move. Diving into the crowd, carefully trailing the woman with the red handbag, in which you knew her matching red wallet was uncaringly stuffed into, after her last purchase.

 

 

It was nearly too easy, as she stopped again, leaning forward to inspect the goods more closely, making her bag move backwards and an even simpler target for you. She didn’t even notice, how close you’d gotten, let alone when your hand had slipped into her bag, swiftly removing her wallet. As quickly as you could you opened it and removed the money, stuffing it into your coat’s pocket, before putting her wallet back into the handbag.

 

 

To prevent making anyone suspicious, you too leaned over the goods for a few seconds, as if you were inspecting them as well. Next you politely smiled at the vendor and then moved away, slithering through the mass of people. Escaping. Or so you thought.

 

 

You hadn’t even reached the spot from where you had kept watch, when someone rather rudely crashed into you from behind, grabbing your arm. Exasperated at their behaviour you tried to twist around, though it was in vain, with the iron clad grip they had on you, so you just struggled, cursing under your breath, “What the fuck…let me go! This instant!”

 

 

Whoever was behind you, only tightened their grip further, chuckling lowly, “Oh I don’t think so, hon.”

 

 

Still struggling in the hold, you slightly panicked because the man really didn’t let go at all, hissing you threatened him, “Let go you arsehole, or I’ll scream! Then you have to explain yourself to the fucking police!!”

 

 

He didn’t have any difficulty keeping his hold on you, despite you trying to wrestle yourself free. Suddenly he was even closer, sturdy body pressed against yours, as his warm breath tickled your ear, “Aww is that an invitation? Because as a matter of fact, I am the police.”

 

 

You ceased your fighting instantly. Shit. Now you really panicked. What would he do? He most certainly had caught you redhandedly. Your body couldn’t decide if it was overheating or ice cold, switching between the two sensations as if your panicked state wasn’t enough to deal with already.

 

 

“Mmmh, not so feisty anymore, are we now, you little thief?”

 

 

Crap his deep voice and mocking manner, made heated waves roll through your body, apparently it had settled on confused arousal, you cursed quietly.

 

 

“What was that? Cursing at a police officer is just as a serious offense as stealing, you know.”

 

 

You didn’t know what to do, you just went slack in his hold, submitting to the muscled man behind you.

 

 

“That’s what I thought,” he taunted you further.

 

 

At last he set into motion, taking you with him, gliding through the crowd and further to a police car parked in an alley. Only once he’d pushed you into the backseat, slamming the door shut, reality hit you again.

 

 

You had been caught. Now sitting in a police car, probably soon on the way to the nearest precinct. You didn’t even know what would happen next. Could they throw you in prison for this? Would there be a hearing? Damn it, you never had to think about the consequences before…

 

 

The front door opened and he entered, distracting you for a second, as your eyes roved over his form. Great, not only did he have an alluring voice, he also had to be extremely attractive. His clear blue eyes met yours, grinning in triumph, “You have any idea, how much trouble you’ve caused us?”

 

 

You didn’t know what made you so bold, as you cheekily replied, “I’m terribly sorry officer, but I just can’t help myself. Always been a trouble maker.”

 

 

He buckled his seat belt, turning to the front again, shaking his head, mumbling, “Bet you are.”

 

 

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As you finally arrived at the precinct, it was dark outside. Apparently he hadn’t driven to the nearest one. He opened the back door of the car once more. Immediately steel grip on you, pinning your arms uncomfortably behind your back, as he manoeuvred you to the door leading into the police station.

 

 

It was eerily quiet inside. You didn’t see anyone, as you turned your head left and right.

 

 

Then another officer came into view.

 

 

“Ah hey there, Marshall! Finally, was just about to leave.”

 

“Bennet, you know you can’t leave, if no one’s here, right?”, Marshall answered, clearly annoyed by that Bennet guy.

 

 

“Yeah, yeah I know. Sooo, whose that?”, Bennet nodded to you.

 

 

“None of your business. Just go home.”

 

 

Bennet quickly shuffled out of the way, as Marshall and you passed him. You two went around a corner, away from the desks through a never ending corridor. Glaringly white light beaming down on you, making your eyes burn after the prolonged darkness in the car.

 

 

The station was bigger than you thought it’d be, as you turned another corner. Though here he finally stopped, in front of a small cell. You heard the jiggling of the keys, then he unlocked the door, letting go of you and pushing you inside as he entered as well.

 

 

You turned around, suppressing a shiver when he crossed his arms, towering over you.

 

 

“Come here.”

 

 

You ignored his command, shaking your head.

 

 

He sighed, approaching you,” Hon, this is standard procedure. I’ve got to pet you down, make sure you’ve got nothing dangerous on you.”

 

 

You froze, when your back hit the wall. You weren’t afraid. Actually quite the opposite, you were exited at the prospect of this gorgeous man petting you down. Letting his big hands glide up and down your body.

But you were determined to not let, him, know that. And you were convinced if he came any closer he’d know.

 

 

But you were trapped. He came to a stop in front of you. Concerned he’d furrowed his dark brows, “May I?”

 

 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

 

 

You’d let him do anything, if he looked at you like that. Not trusting your voice you nodded.

 

 

He squatted down, warm hands settling on your calves, slowly moving up. Your eyes widened when you saw the burning desire you felt, mirrored in his ocean ones.

 

 

Not able to conceal your excitement, you automatically widened you stance, as his hands moved beyond your knees. Thumbs stroking over your inner thighs teasingly, making you pant loudly.

 

 

His amusement was crystal clear with the way he smirked up at you, “Already getting exited, you little thief?”

 

 

You whimpered pathetically as his right hand was now dangerously close to your pulsing centre. Closing your eyes in anticipation, your breath hitched in surprise, when he’d suddenly stood up. Bearded face in front of yours, making your eyes fly open again.

 

 

He cupped your chin, tilting your head back a little, whispering, “Are you sure, you want this?”

 

 

“Yes,” you breathed back.

 

 

“I need you to be absolutely sure you want this just as much as I want this.” Blue eyes serious and flitting between yours.

 

 

You were touched by his gentleness, and quite relieved he made sure, you were on board with this. To wipe any doubts from his mind, you pressed your lips against his. Starting to kiss him fiercely.

 

 

He was a bit taken aback by your initiative, but only for a second, before he moved against your soft lips. His pink tongue begging for entrance, which you immediately granted. Deepening the kiss. When you pulled away, both of you panted, taking in the much needed oxygen.

 

 

He’d leaned his forehand against yours, growling softly when your swift fingers started to unbuckle his belt. Not able to hold back, you let them slide into his boxers, gasping when you felt how big he was. You couldn’t even close your hand around his shaft, though you began pumping him anyway, making his hips buck forward.

 

 

“Fu-uck, you’re really good with your hands aren’t you, hon?”

 

 

“What can I say, if I see something I like, I need to have it, Mr. Marshall.”

 

 

All the while your hand had moved back and forth on his hard rod, freeing him, as you’d pushed his pants and boxers down to his meaty thighs. It made him grunt loudly. His hands curling around your hips, then advancing toward the fly of your jeans, pulling your sipper down.

 

 

“Let’s see how wet you are for me, honey.”

 

 

And sure enough two long fingers dipped into your panties, feeling around your dripping walls, until he found your wet centre and plunged into your pussy.

 

 

Moaning wantonly you nearly let go of his cock, when his perfect fingers curled and pressed into your sweet spot.

 

“Argh, yeah right there.”

 

 

“Thought so, you’re clenching around me like crazy. Can’t wait to feel your tight, little snatch around my cock.”

 

 

You tried to reciprocate, moving your hand up and down, but it was impossible with the way his fingers sped up, carefully scissoring you open.

 

 

But he didn’t seem to care, enjoying how loud he could make you moan for him. As he pulled his fingers out, you mewled, unhappy at the sudden emptiness.

 

 

He cooed,” Aww darling don’t worry you’ll feel full again in a second.”

 

 

With that he pulled down your jeans and panties, only than noticing that he couldn’t remove them completely, because of your boots. Huffing annoyed, he didn’t even wait to pull off the boots. Instead he hauled you onto the small bed in the corner, lifting your legs and pushing your ankles down beside your head.

 

 

The new position had exposed you so entirely that you whimpered in embarrassment. He didn’t care though, burning gaze fixed on our soaking wet pussy, unconsciously liking over his lips, at the mouth-watering sight of you spread out, below him.

 

 

He quickly reached for his painfully throbbing cock, wanting nothing more than to bury it in your tight cavern. He rubbed the head between your sopping folds, collecting your juices to make the entrance smoother.

 

 

“You ready?”

 

 

Your nod was all he needed, as he began pushing against your hole. Slowly spreading you around his fat cockhead, before pushing further and further inside. Your breathing was shallow, as the monstrosity entered you.

 

 

“So biiig…”

 

 

He had the audacity to laugh, “Well hon, you said you needed to have the things you liked. And I’m simply giving them to you, aren’t I?”

 

 

Just then he finally bottomed out, making you whimper and him moan lowly.

His large firm hands rested on your calves, making sure they and you would stay in the position he’d put you in. Panting he smiled down at you, “So pretty for me. Have to start moving, your cunt is to fucking tight.”

 

 

Blazing blue eyes focused on your slit engulfing his cock, as he agonizingly slow moved back. He grunted when he pushed his hips forward, forcing his entire length back inside. Stretching your cunt, filling your body thoroughly once more.

 

 

“Quicker. Please M-Mr. Marshall, need more…”

 

 

He groaned, “Such a needy thing. But I expected nothing less off a little thief.”

 

 

You wanted to curse at him, but all that left you was another mewl, as he continued his slow, slow pace.

 

 

“Maybe if you beg again, honey. But this time, address me as Walter. After all I’m not your boss.”

 

 

Fully sheathed inside you, it was extremely hard to string together any sentence, but you tired your best, as you needed him to pick up his pace.

 

 

“Pl-please Walter… quicker, harder. Fuck me as hard as you can…please.”

 

 

“What a dangerous thing to say, honey. But your wish is my command,” he winked at you.

 

 

Walter finally pulled back, delivering a hard and heavy thrust, making you cry out, at the shocking wave of pleasure wracking your body.

 

 

Your fingers dug into the mattress, holding on for dear life, as he began hammering away. Rutting into you so violently, he smacked against your clit with ever thrust. Pulling a blinding, toe-curling orgasm from you.

 

 

He’d stopped moving for a bit, grinding his hips into yours, prolonging your orgasm. Walter made a low guttural sound, before picking up his pace once more.

 

 

Yelping as he ploughed away at your weeping pussy, he kept your legs pressed against your chest.

 

 

“Not nearly done with you yet, honey,” he panted.

 

 

One moan after the other was pulled from your lungs as your poor cunt didn’t have any time to recover and was just thrown into immediate pleasure again, as his massive cock made its way in and out of your body.

 

 

“Hnnm…pl-please. Wa-alter,” you squeaked.

 

 

 

Walter growled and picked up the pace even more. He pulled out completely, before driving home with every single thrust.

 

 

“Cl-close. I’m so close, honey.”

 

 

He kept slamming into your body, as you egged him on, “Yeah… please fill me up, Walter!!”

 

 

That’s what tipped him over the edge, taking you with him as your second orgasm was pulled from your exhausted body, feeling his seed entering you. Cock pulsing inside you, as a last deep moan left his lips.

 

 

Then he stilled, locking eyes with you, “Fuck… that was amazing, hon.”

 

 

Blinking up at him, you smiled, sighing when he slipped out, warm dripples of his and your residue running down. Walter let go of your legs. Wanting to protest as he pulled your panties and jeans back up, even though you were still dripping his cum.

 

 

He hushed you, “Ah, ah, ah. A little punishment is due don’t you think? Keeping my seed inside till you’re home is the least you could do, when I let you off with a warning, isn’t it, you little thief?”

 

 

You nodded, smirking at his decision, while he buckled his belt.

Then he added,” Though you obviously have to give me the money.”

 

 

Damn it, you had hoped he’d forgotten about that. But his outstretched hand said otherwise, so you pulled the money from your coat pocked and handed it over disgruntledly.

 

 

“That’s a good girl. Thank you,” he teased as he put it into his back pocket.

 

 

He turned around, opening the cell and letting you out, leading you back through the corridor you had come from with his hand touching your lower back.

 

 

When you arrived at the front room of the precinct it was completely deserted. He surprised you with the searing kiss he bestowed upon your lips.

When Walter pulled back, his blue eyes seemed to sparkle, “I really enjoyed that. All of it. Maybe next time, you’ll be here, it’s not because you committed a crime, yeah?”

 

 

“Can’t make any promises, but I’m sure our paths will cross again.”

 

 

Then you slipped out the door, vanishing into the night, but not without releasing a gleeful laugh as your fist closed around the money in victory.

 

Unbeknownst to Walter, you had stolen it right back during the kiss.

 

 

The minute you were gone he had noticed the missing money, roaring, “Fuck! You little minx! Get back here!!” Running out the door himself.

 

 

Walter could have sworn he heard you giggle in the distance, as he set out to chase after you.

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[ddarker-dreams]

Sore Loser.

Yan Alhaitham x Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, manipulation and unbalanced power dynamics.  Word count: 1.1k.

“In case you somehow missed it while storming in here, I want to inform you that my work hours are posted outside my office. You should note that I’m not currently on the clock and am under no obligation to hold an audience with you.” 

You knew this would be no simple task. That’s why you’ve spent days — perhaps weeks, if you’re being totally honest — mentally preparing for this confrontation. Countless hours have been spent running mental simulations of this imperative moment. Still, despite your best efforts, you never achieved a breakthrough that’d navigate you through the obstacles lying ahead. Hence why you’ve been delaying this tête-à-tête no matter how much you recognize its needs to be resolved, and soon. 

Some might call it procrastination, or delaying the inevitable, but not you. You think of it as self-preservation. What small amount you have left to cling to, anyway. Today, that thin, already fraying self-preservation was pulled taut enough to snap. 

Which leads you here. The last place you want to be, paired with the very last person you want to see. 

Your gut tells you the feeling is far from mutual. Alhaitham’s expression might be schooled, betraying nothing that floats around in that sinister mind of his, but you’re certain he’s deriving some satisfaction from your disheveled appearance. It could be the nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips or how he went to such lengths to keep his words slow, as if savoring your attention. 

“Oh, trust me, I saw your little plaque.” 

“It comes as a relief to know you’re literate.” 

The creature seated before you cannot be a human being. There’s no way. You’ve dealt with some irritating men throughout your academic tenure — sometimes you wonder if the trait is an unspoken prerequisite to being accepted in higher education — yet none come close to this. The nonplussed air, that monotonous voice that is about as passionate as one reciting instructions from a manual. Oh, how it stokes a seething rage inside you that burns red hot. 

You slam your hands on his desk hard enough to jostle the various writing instruments and memorabilia. This little outburst earns a raised eyebrow, yet nothing else. It’s clear that the floor is yours. You’ll need to make every second count. 

“I know what you’ve been doing,” you whisper. Still nothing. No guilty body language that’d give himself away, his intense eye contact doesn’t even falter. Yours almost does. “Admittedly, I don’t know the specifics. I just think it’s interesting that ever since we broke things off, I’ve been receiving the cold shoulder from the academic world. An area you hold immense sway over.” 

He straightens out a pen that went askew from your previous action. “A quick correction: you used the incorrect pronoun.” 

“... Huh?” 

“You said ‘ever since we broke things off’ when the correct phrasing would be ‘ever since I broke things off.’ That was entirely your decision. I had no part in it.” 

It takes a few seconds for his words to register. What was once a steady yet contained flame ignites into a wildfire, seeking to smolder everything nearby into ashes. You can’t believe you saw something in him once. That you granted him a special residence in your heart, the door left unlocked so he wouldn’t need a key. In the wake of his forceful eviction, you’ve boarded up the windows and chained every potential entryway shut. There’s no fully surveying the damage left behind that you’ve been forced to clean up. 

Piece by piece, shard by shard. You knew picking up the jagged glass would hurt — you never could’ve fathomed how much it’d make you bleed. 

Unfortunately, he isn’t finished. While you mentally scramble to recollect your thoughts, he swoops in, talons sharp and ready to pierce your flesh. 

“Additionally, I don’t see why we’re having this conversation if, as you said yourself, you have no evidence to back your claims. This alleged abuse of power would be better discussed with the matra. I’d be cooperative with any investigation they open. In fact, why don’t we go visit them together—” 

“Stop it,” you cut him off, and surprisingly, he listens. “Is this— is this your way of tormenting me? Getting revenge? Does destroying what I’ve spent my entire life building satisfy your ego?” 

Alhaitham places his elbows on the desk, rests his chin on steepled fingers, and leans forward. You know that look. You were once intimately familiar with it. This is the posture he adopts when he’s studying. Analyzing every variable presented to him and unearthing what remains hidden. There is no secrecy beneath his scrutinizing gaze. Where some see a stubborn wall, he views a vast ocean of information, waiting to be absorbed by those who know how to find it. 

“You haven’t been sleeping well,” he notes. His voice is quieter. Almost tender, if such a word exists in his lexicon. You’re convinced it doesn’t. “Your foundation hides the worst of the eyebags, but I’m familiar with your normal complexion. The slightest change in pigmentation is enough to give you away.” 

You hug your arms close to your chest. “Who do you think is to blame for that?” 

“You wouldn’t like my answer.” 

His hand reaches for your wrist. You tense, your breath catching in your throat, yet you allow him to unfurl your protective stance. His skin is familiar. Warm, calloused from years of dutifully scribbling onto documents. You feel his eyes boring at and through you. Cataloging your every reaction, retrieving past memories to best advance his goals. 

He’s never quite as detached as you wished he would be. 

There’s an underlying fondness when he speaks your name, gentle as a soft breeze, and almost as indiscernible. 

“You must be at your wit’s end if you’re coming to me unprepared like this,” he sighs. The spell is broken, the hypnotist’s wristwatch frozen midair. You go to jerk your hand back, only for him to tighten his grip, not enough to hurt, but enough to effectively communicate his point. 

“I’ve always been partial to you, so I suppose a little overtime wouldn’t hurt just this once. I believe I have a solution for the predicament you’ve found yourself in. We could discuss it, if you’d like. How about over dinner? It’ll be my treat.” 

You did come here searching for a solution — though this is the last one you’d ever want. 

“... How much of this did you plan?” 

“I’m unsure what you mean,” his tongue might wax deceit, but his lips offer a glimmer of truth. They curl into a content smile. “I take it that’s a yes. Our usual spot, then?” 

It’s occurs to you that you were worried about the wrong thing all along. 

There was no point in fortifying your defenses after you ejected him from your heart; he never intended to undergo a forceful re-entry. 

No, according to his design, you’d be the one undoing each lock to meet him outside. 

[mx-paradox]

Lenses {Mitsuya Takashi x Reader}

Takashi gets glasses, and is a little self-conscious about them until he sees your reaction

MDNI for some light fade to black smut implications, established relationship, gender neutral reader, word count ~1000 | Ao3 version

Takashi locked eyes with his reflection in the mirror and sighed.

Reading glasses.

He had put it off for as long as he possibly could, but it was inevitable. His close-up eyesight was not what it once was; details blurred the nearer he was to things, and he had embarrassingly spent the last few weeks holding books as far away as he could from his face, as if they offended him in some manner. He had finally given in once it had begun to affect his work; his fingers were bandaged up from how many times he had accidentally jabbed himself with the needle, something that hadn’t happened so often since he was a kid.

Only a few people, other than he himself, knew he was getting glasses; and only one had seen him wearing them so far.

Unfortunately, that person was Draken, whose first reaction was to cackle at Takashi’s new appearance and tell him the frames ‘made him look like an old man.’

Takashi had very carefully set the new glasses aside before he tackled his best friend.

Draken wasn’t entirely incorrect, he mused, studying himself in the mirror. Of course, he didn’t look like an old man, but the square black frames did lend a certain extra maturity to his face. It wasn’t bad, not in Takashi’s opinion, just…different. He knew his friend was just teasing, and he wasn’t truly mad, but it did tap into a certain worry of his. Namely, that you, his lover, would also find the new frames…unflattering.

Draken’s opinion was one thing, but if you said he looked like an old man, he was afraid he would never recover.

Hence his delaying of the inevitable. It wasn’t like he would want to avoid you forever, but he thought perhaps that allowing himself a few minutes to hide away in the bathroom would allow him to manifest a sense of confidence.

It had not.

Finally, after what felt like hours of scrutinizing himself in the mirror, he heard the door open.

“I’m home,” you called. “How did your appointment go?”

“Welcome home! It went…okay, I guess. I got my glasses.”

“Really? Well, why don’t you come out and let me see?” You paused, taking in the distinct lack of footsteps. “I know you’re hiding in the bathroom, Taka.”

He winced. Caught. “No, I’m not, I’m just. Washing my hands.”

He flicked the water on.

He could still hear your snort over the sound of the running water. “Sure, baby. Just don’t take too long.”

Takashi scrubbed his hands for longer than normal. For no reason at all, of course. Before he exited the bathroom, he adjusted his glasses once more in the mirror, giving his reflection a grimace.

He made his way into the kitchen, where he could hear you shuffling around. He saw you before you saw him, and he took one second to admire you before he called your name. Despite the years of familiarity, Takashi always marveled at how relaxed you seemed when you were home, with him. It still felt like such a precious thing.

At the sound of your name, you whipped around so quickly he swore he could hear the vertebrae in your neck pop. Your mouth opened, preparing to reply, but then you froze once you saw him.

Your eyes widened, and you stared at where the frames sat on his face. All of a sudden, you were a statue, stone-still and stuck gaping at your lover.

He stared back at you, like a deer in headlights, caught by your intense gaze. He was about to ask you not to laugh at him, when you launched yourself forward and smashed your lips against his.

Takashi was still for only a second, before he’s wrapping his arms tight around you and kissing back. It wasn’t long until the kiss went from a chaste press of lips to something more passionate, filthier. Your hands were gripping the sides of his head, tilting him towards you so you could lick into his mouth and devour him. He wasn’t any better, though, and gave as good as he got. His hands gripped your hips tight enough to bruise, and he would only pull away to nip at your lips in a way that had you shivering.

By the time the two of you had finally detached from each other, you had pushed Takashi up against the cabinets, pinning him there with your body. Your hands had started to ruck up his shirt, and his glasses were smudged and askew. You looked no more put together than him; your clothes were rumpled, and you were breathing heavily. Your eyes were hazy with desire, and he couldn’t help but lean in and steal a few more slow, deep kisses.

“What got you so riled up?” Takashi murmured against your lips. Any anxiety about his appearance had been wiped from his mind, replaced with you, your kisses, and the delicious feeling of your body pressed against his.

“You and your stupid new glasses,” you huffed. You bit his lip, harsh enough to get his attention but gentle enough not to draw blood, only playing with him. Pulling back, you reached up to resettle his frames onto his face.

“What about them?”

You looked at him with a slightly accusing look. “You look sexy as hell with those on. It’s not fair.”

Takashi gaped at you. Out of all the reactions he had imagined, this had not occurred to him in the slightest. It took a moment for his brain to reboot, but once it did, he smirked.

“Oh, really, pretty?” he purred, leaning back in until you were nose to nose.

“Uh huh,” you whispered, eyes drifting back down to his no doubt kiss-reddened lips.

He gave you what you clearly wanted, leaning in for one more deep kiss. “Do you want to show me how ‘sexy’ you think I am?”

You gave him your own little self-satisfied smile, as he felt your hand trail down his torso. “I would love to, darling,” you said, as you undid his pants enough to slip your hand inside.

[bikananjarrus]

kanera week 2024 - day 2

prompt: reunion

rating: gen | word count: 3.5k | ao3 link

[note: sorry for the delay on this one! this was supposed to be much shorter than it is, but, well. you know how it is. this is a kanan lives au feat. post-battle reunion on endor (and more kanan + ghost crew feelings about the end of the war than expected, hence why this is about 2k longer than planned!). ezra is still missing and jacen has not been born yet in this au]

~

They stood together at the top of the Ghost’s lowered ramp, foreheads pressed together, Kanan’s hands resting on her waist, Hera’s curled into the lapels of his jacket. Kanan refused to think this was the last time he would hold her like this.

Base was alive and bustling around them. Officers ran back and forth across the landing bay, handing off reports, updating orders, some of them practically doing hurtles over droids that trundled through with supplies. Ground teams prepped for landing on Endor’s forest moon. Pilots rushed to their ships, readying to launch to their first jump point and wait for the go-ahead from General Solo’s ground team before following General Calrissian’s assault on the second Death Star. Hera was one of those pilots.

They had minutes left before Kanan needed to join Zeb and Kallus with their ground team, and Hera needed to ready the Ghost for take-off.

He knew that anyone could see up the Ghost’s ramp, see the two of them embraced as they were. It wasn’t exactly like his and Hera’s relationship was a secret. But he knew how much Hera valued keeping things professional in public. As a general, she had an image to maintain. He respected that. And at times, it made it all the more fun when they got a chance to sneak off for a few precious moments of alone time.

But right now, he didn’t care if anyone saw them. Hera must not have minded either, because she didn’t seem too keen on letting him go.

Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the front of his jacket. “Promise me you’ll be careful.” While he couldn’t see her face, he thought her chin might be trembling, because her next words came out in a wobbly whisper. “Promise me you’ll come back to me.”

Kanan pressed a kiss right between her creased brows. “I promise, love.” Another kiss to the tip of her nose. “I’ll have Zeb and Rex watching my back. Kallus, too, I suppose.” That made her chuckle and he smiled in turn. “I’m more worried about you.”

A firefight on the ground was one thing. Dangerous, of course. At times unpredictable, hard to navigate a battlefield, especially in unfamiliar territory. But, even with the odds stacked against them, a ground fight allowed more opportunities to turn those odds in their favor.

A dogfight in the blackness of space was another thing entirely. The whole battle map was laid out before you, with nothing to stand between you and the laser-fire of enemy ships except skill and the cold vacuum of the cosmos.

Hera was the greatest pilot he’d ever seen. But all it took was one wrong move and she would be nothing but stardust.

“You’ve got Zeb and Rex. I’ve got Sabine and Chopper.”

“We should’ve just offered to smuggle Chopper onboard the Death Star. He’d have that thing imploding in no time.”

Hera laughed softly again, sweeping one hand up to cup his jaw. Her thumb brushed over the apple of his cheek, then a little higher to the edge of the scar that ran beneath his eyes. She kissed him with sound reassurance. “I’ll be careful,” she vowed against his lips. “Promise.”

She kissed him once more, and then started to pull back. Kanan didn’t want her to—but if they didn’t separate now, he wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to walk away from her.

Kanan’s hands were still loosely gripping Hera’s when he heard the familiar rumble of Chopper’s wheels against the ramp, just a moment before Sabine announced her presence with a boisterous, “Who’s ready to blow up another Death Star?”

He chuckled, at last letting go of Hera to stretch his arms out for Sabine instead. She stepped fully into his hug. He ruffled the back of her freshly cut mullet (he’d sat in the ‘fresher with her while she’d cut her hair the other night, describing the process and the bright orange to buttery yellow gradient she’d dyed it with) and she swatted at his hand playfully, twirling out of his grip.

“You know, for some of us, this is a first time experience,” he pointed out, barely containing a grin. “Some of us were in a coma when the first Death Star blew up.”

He could practically feel Sabine and Hera rolling their eyes simultaneously.

Sabine gave his shoulder a playful shove. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Please—tell us again how you very heroically almost got blown up.”

Kanan laughed, then reached through the air until he found Hera’s hand again. He joked about his near-death—very, very near-death—experience on Lothal years ago now; they were in a place now that they could all make fun about it. But he gave her fingers a light squeeze, silently conveying that, despite his joking, he knew how serious it had been. How close she’d come to losing him. She wouldn’t lose him this time, either.

She squeezed his hand back, thumb pressing into the back of his fingerless gloves and the burn scars underneath. “It’s time to go.”

His chest tightened at the words. “Yeah.”

Still, he didn’t let go. He could feel her gaze on him, drinking him in.

For the millionth time since Malachor, Kanan wished he could see her—really see her. He wanted to rememorize the exact shade of green of her skin, her eyes. He wanted to see the half-smile she got when she was planning something brilliant or devious or both. He wanted to see the way her cheeks flushed when he kissed her, wanted to see the exact way her mouth curved around the syllables of his name.

Since that wasn’t possible, he instead sank into the Force. It danced around her in a steady, but brilliant flow, and he grounded himself in that feeling, breathing easier with each of her exhales.

Kanan kissed her one more time. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she whispered back.

They stood close for a few precious seconds more. Then in one swift movement, he pulled away, striding down the ramp to put distance between them.

“Be careful,” she called after him.

With a two-finger salute and a cheeky grin, he replied, “Aye aye, General. See you on the other side.”

::

The next thirty-six hours passed in waves—time speeding by in the blink of an eye one hour and dragging onto eternity the next. The chaos and necessity of battle made it relatively easy to focus on the mission at hand. But that didn’t stop Kanan from casting his mind out into the Force whenever he got the chance, searching for Hera.

Over and over, he sensed that she was okay. He was sure, down to his bones, that he would know if something was wrong. Her presence in the Force was as familiar as his own; he would feel it if something happened.

But that didn’t stop worry from gripping him like a cold hand latched around his spine.

Especially when the battle ended. And it did end.

Blaster fire stopped whizzing past his ears and cheers—from rebel and Ewok alike—erupted around the battlefield. He could feel others jostling around him, sense their upward gazes, hear the affirmation from all around him, “Look! The Death Star! They did it!”

Kanan couldn’t see it, of course—but he’d already known. He’d felt it when it happened, the Death Star’s destruction. Countless lives snuffed out at once; Like the exhale of a giant beast. The sensation of a distant space explosion beneath his feet; but maybe that was actually the tremor of Endor’s moon, shaking with the force of the blast.

More than that—through the Force—light.

Kanan had never felt the Force like this. He didn’t realize how…muffled it had been up until now. Akin to suddenly having a great, downy blanket torn off in one’s sleep. The contrast was sharp, bright. But refreshing.

The Force was what it was. It wasn’t light or dark on its own; it just was. And while no one being could truly have so much power as to control the entirety of it, Emperor Palpatine must have been powerful indeed to cast so much darkness over the Force for all these years.

Kanan staggered under the lightness he felt. He sucked in a deep breath, lungs expanding all the way. The sensation stretched his face in a wide smile, tears of pure, unadulterated joy pricking at his eyes.

“We’re free,” he whispered.

He swore he felt the brush of a ghostly hand on his shoulder.

Master, he thought, closing his eyes. We’re free. For a moment, the smell of smoke dissipated from the air, replaced only with the greenery around him and the spiced floral scent that had floated around Master Billaba in days long passed.

Her presence drifted away on the breeze and Kanan’s heart lifted with it.

With one thing left to do, Kanan reached for his comm on his belt, toggling it to their crew’s private channel. “Spectre One to Ghost. Come in, Spectre Two.”

Silence followed for a few impossibly long seconds. His throat tightened, and he tried to swallow down the fear.

Maybe the Death Star’s explosion had overridden any other feeling in the Force. Maybe she had been caught in the blast and he didn’t even know—

A crackle of static. Followed by her smiling voice, “Ghost to Spectre One. We read you loud and clear.”

He sighed in happy relief. “Copy that, Ghost. You all good up there?”

This time it was Sabine’s voice over the comms, sounding more victorious than she had in a long time. At least since before the Empire destroyed Mandalor, Sabine having just barely gotten her family out in time. “Better than good. You?”

Kanan twisted in place, reaching out with the Force. He had gotten separated from Zeb, Kallus, and Rex in the fight. “I’m fine. The others—”

“We’re all safe,” Zeb’s voice sounded over the channel. “I’ve got Kal and Rex here with me.”

“Glad to hear it. We’ll be joining you planetside shortly,” Hera said. And then, even though they were still on comms with everyone else, she added just for him, “See you soon, love.”

While he waited for the Rebel fleet to start landing on the moon, Kanan busied himself helping with triage. Andor and Erso had been put in charge of setting up a temporary med station while they waited for their primary medical frigate to arrive in friendly space. He helped with getting the wounded to the tented off area.

After helping the team who was clearing major debris out of the way, Zeb found him, Kallus and Rex trailing behind. Kallus gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, but he was hauled into a hearty hug by Rex a second later.

“We did it, Commander,” Rex said, his gruff voice even rougher than usual, tinged with emotion as it was.

“We did it,” Kanan echoed.

Rifling in his pack as he pulled back, Rex grabbed Kanan’s hand and pressed something into it. “Here. Just in case you’re getting tired. I see yours fell off your belt.”

Kanan recognized the weight and feel of his extra probing cane immediately.

(Sabine had painted it, of course, telling him, “Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it shouldn’t look nice.” Still, she’d taken care to layer the paint over and over in a design comprised of swirls and whorls, the paint just raised enough that he could make it out with the touch of his fingertips).

“Thanks,” he said with a grateful smile. He was a bit worn out, having relied on the Force to see the entirety of the battle. And the cane he kept attached to his belt had gotten knocked off at some point during the day, lost amongst the foliage of Endor.

For the moment, though, he hooked this one onto his belt too. He had one more person to greet.

Kanan turned to where he could sense Zeb, and no sooner was he facing Zeb’s direction before the lasat was barreling into him, enveloping him in a huge hug.

Zeb was one of the few people in the galaxy who understood what Kanan was feeling in a way that many others didn’t—the Empire that had almost entirely destroyed both their peoples’ in its rise to power. Though the fight against the Empire had been happening for over two decades, to have it finally snuffed out with one last battle…it was hard to put the impossibility of that into words. So Kanan knew he wasn’t imagining the way Zeb was quietly shaking, or the soft sniffles that punctuated the air near his ear.

“Me too, big guy, me too,” Kanan said, voice muffled by Zeb’s shoulder. There would be more time later for them to sit down and properly honor both the Jedi and Lasan. For now, he just squeezed one of his oldest friends back tightly.

It was Zeb who pulled back with a quiet, “Kanan.” Then Zeb was putting his hands on his shoulders, turning Kanan away from him—towards something else. “The Ghost is coming down.”

With Zeb’s hand on his back guiding him, they headed for the wider part of the clearing that Zeb had helped clear out for the ships coming planetside. As they got closer, close enough that he could pick the familiar rumble of the Ghost’s engines out from the rest, Kanan picked up his pace, leaving Zeb and the others behind.

New voices and shouts of excitement and victory rose up as others finished their landing cycles, and pilots descended from their ships, running to reunite with their own friends.

Kanan stopped where he was sure he wouldn’t be in danger of getting squashed by the landing ship, and waited, heart thrumming in his chest.

He heard the Ghost land, felt the shudder under his feet as the freighter touched down, followed by the low whine of the engine’s powering down. The scent of fresh carbon scoring was faint in the air. There was a gentle whir as the ramp lowered.

From the second he sensed Hera at the top of the ramp—right where they’d stood together early yesterday—Kanan was moving. Her feet touched solid ground and he was instantly there to scoop her into his arms.

She clung to him, burying her face into the crook between his shoulder and neck. Overjoyed, her laugh echoed around him as he spun her.

They were here—they were alive.

Somewhere behind him he heard Chopper warbling and Sabine letting out a surprised yelp as Zeb pulled her into her own bone-crushing embrace.

But everyone else felt far away compared to the woman in his arms, radiating joy and laughter and utter relief.

Kanan set her down but kept her close. Close enough to kiss her soundly, cupping her face between his hands. Her cheeks were wet with tears, lips salty with them.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, touching his forehead to hers the way he had yesterday. “I’m here. We’re here, we’re safe. It’s over, Hera. It’s over.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “We did it, love.”

“We did it,” she sniffled. She laughed again, the sound watery with her tears. One of her gloved hands was tangled in his half-down hair, the other caressing his jaw.

She kissed him again, before wrapping him up in another hug. Kanan closed his eyes and just held her, his heart content.

::

Celebrations took place later that night, and Kanan barely left Hera’s side. He spent most of the night with his cane in one hand, and holding Hera’s hand with the other. He gave and received more hugs than he ever had in his life; they cheered and danced and sang; he smiled and laughed until his cheeks hurt and his ribs were sore. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt this much joy at once.

At one point, a bunch of them gathered around a radio one of the pilots had carried into the Ewok village. They listened as the news carried across every available channel in the galaxy: the Emperor was dead and the Empire along with him. The galaxy was free.

After hours of music and fireworks and celebration, Hera tugged him away from it all, off to a distant, quiet platform of the village. Some of the rebels were slumbering in the village that night. They had already decided they would make their way back to the Ghost eventually to sleep in their own bed.

Hera sat down against the tree trunk that jutted through the center of the circular platform. She took his cane, and he heard her folding it up as he settled down next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned her head against him immediately, taking his free hand between her own.

Kanan took a deep breath. As much as he relished the celebrations, the quiet was a relief. He let himself drift for a moment—listening to the rustle of leaves all round them, soaking in the cool night breeze, the scent of distant fires tickling his nose.

“It still doesn’t feel real,” Hera murmured.

Kanan hummed in agreement, rubbing his thumb back and forth against her index finger.

Mirthfully, she scoffed. “I have no idea what I’m going to do tomorrow.”

They both knew there would be plenty to do—too much, even. The Empire was finished, but the work wasn’t. But he knew what she meant; it was the principle of the thing. After spending the last twenty-three years under the thumb of Imperial rule, the future was frighteningly full of possibilities.

“Sleep in for once?” he suggested. He was an early riser naturally; he liked doing his meditation in the morning. Hera’s early schedule was all thanks to her alarms and the strict schedule of a rebellion leader.

“Mm, sleeping in would be nice. Maybe breakfast in bed afterwards. When’s the last time we did that?”

“Too long ago to remember.” He nudged his foot against her own playfully. “I could be persuaded to do breakfast in bed. Depending, of course—” he stroked his fingers down the one lek curled pliantly over her shoulder, delighting as she shivered against him, “—on what’s on the menu.”

“Oh, I don’t know, dear, you tell me.” He could hear the smile in her voice as she twisted to nip at his earlobe lightly.

He chuckled, turning his head to capture her lips with his own. They kissed until the tips of his ears warmed and they were both a little breathless.

With a last peck to her temple, he leaned his head back against the tree trunk, willing his heated blood to cool and Hera tucked deeper into his side.

They sat in companionable silence for a while. Another bout of fireworks started lighting up the sky again, and Kanan had to imagine the bright colors as their booms filled the night.

The thought popped into his head unbidden, I wonder how they’re celebrating on Lothal right now. It was like being doused with cold water.

It’s not like this was the first time he’d thought of Ezra, even today. His thoughts drifted constantly to his padawan—really, former padawan; Ezra had more than done enough to prove himself worthy of the title of Jedi Knight.

But the ache of missing Ezra and the sudden longing to be on Lothal—the closest planet they could call home—dug sharply into his chest.

“Kanan?” Hera asked. He didn’t realize how tense he’d suddenly gotten until she was smoothing a hand over his chest. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m okay. It’s—tonight’s been perfect.” He exhaled through his nose. “Except…”

“Ezra,” she finished for him quietly. Quickly; like she’d been thinking about the missing member of their family, too.

“Yeah. I just…I wonder if he could sense it, where he is, the Emperor dying or the Death Star. Or if he’s just too far away from us that he doesn’t know.”

Hera squeezed his hand and pressed a soothing kiss to his cheek. “He knows we’re out here. That’s all that matters.” He nodded, but couldn’t bring himself to speak. She pressed on, “We’ll find him, we will. I really believe that.”

“I know we will,” he responded, the words heavy on his tongue.

All their leads on Ezra’s whereabouts had turned into dead-ends over the last several years of the war. But he believed Hera, he believed in her hope. And he believed in the Force, trusting that he would’ve known if something truly terrible had happened to Ezra, no matter how far away he was.

Then Hera said, “We can pick up where we left off with the search right away tomorrow.”

And at the promise of having a tomorrow, Kanan could only pull her impossibly closer.

Safe among their friends and the trees of Endor’s moon, they welcomed the first dawn of a free galaxy, together.

[end]

[forcryingoutlloud]

for the prompts, 1 and 32 🫶🏻

a/n: so sorry for the delay! i was dealing with some crippling self hatred for a while but here it is! it’s also really bad i just wanna warn you in advance. sorry :( not proofread but when is any of my stuff lol

1. sit still or i’ll stop

32. try to stay quiet, understand?

warnings: MINORS DNI!!!! (18+) smut! fingering, public acts, cursing. that’s it i think?

“sit still or i’ll stop,” mattys gruff voice rang through her ears, barely audible over the loud music in the club.

they had decided to have a night out with the boys and their wags, in some posh club just outside of london. everyone was a few drinks in when mattys hand started tracing patterns on her thigh, thinking nothing of it as matty gets restless quite easily.

then he slipped his hand under the short hem of her dress and started tracing patterns on the cotton of her panties instead.

her thighs had clamped around his hand, hips bucking slightly at the touch on her clit, a flush covering her neck and chest, hence his word of warning.

“you okay hun? you look a bit flushed?” charlie concerned voice cut through the blissful haze and she widened her eyes, grabbing mattys hand under the table.

“y-yeah, just a bit warm in here,” she chuckled sheepishly, charli’s eyes narrowing at her before rejoining her conversation with George.

her head snapped in mattys direction when he put her hand back on her knee and moved his fingers underneath the material of her panties, running two of his thick fingers through her slick.

“you dirty little slut, telling me to stop but you’re enjoying this aren’t you?” his breath was hot on her ear, only adding to the wetness in her underwear.

she nodded meekly, subconsciously spreading her legs wider for him. he smirked against the side of her head, moving his fingers inside of her harder as a reward.

he placed his thumb on her clit and she moaned, quickly coughing to try and cover the sound. she could see his eyes shoot daggers at her in her peripheral, his mouth coming to her ear once more. “try to stay quiet, understand? don’t want all our friends to know how much of a little slut you are for me, do you?”

she whined through bitten lips, gently rocking her hips against his hand. “n-no daddy.” she whispered back to him.

“but it’s true isn’t it?” he curved his fingers inside her and she had to bite his shoulder, in a way she hoped came off as her just wanting to be close to him, to stop the sounds threatening to leave her mouth. “you’d drop to your knees and suck me off right here if i wanted you to, wouldn’t you? just so eager to please your daddy.”

the combination of his words and the movements of his fingers inside her were hurtling towards the edge and she wasn’t sure if she could act calm during it.

turning to him with pleading eyes she shook her head slightly, “p-please matty, can’t cum here., can’t keep quiet i- fuck.”

he pouted at her but she didn’t miss the way his eyes hardened slightly. “poor thing, wouldn’t make you cum if you remembered the rules.”

her eyes widened as she remembered her slip up, eagerly trying to to make up for it. “daddy, i’m sorry. didn’t mean it swear-.”

“cum for me sweet girl,” he bit the space on her neck where it met her collarbones and with a hand smushed over her mouth she came with a silent cry, gushing over his hand and wrist. her legs trembled with the aftershocks and she couldn’t disguise the whimper she let out when he removed his fingers from her, wiping the wetness in the inside of her thigh.

he pulled her into him with his other arm, placing a sweet kiss to her head as she twitched slightly in his arms. “did so good for me baby, such a good girl.”

she smiled up at him and pecked his lips, his tongue exploring her mouth for a few seconds before standing up.

“bathroom. two minutes.”

she furrowed her eyebrows and gaped at him, dread flowing through her veins as he cocked his head and smirked.

“you didn’t think i was done with you, did you?”, he leaned down to her once more, taking her earlobe between his teeth. “the nights only starting baby.”

[lilisettean]

Can you write more zayne x reader and implied!caleb? I’m a Zayne’s girlie and love to see more of the love triangle and dynamics between them three 🫣

(and let’s pretend Caleb’s still alive)

Hey! Sorry if this is delayed, was really busy recently so haven't updated much. And yes, I will write more of that love triangle! Jealousy is my jam and I LOVE it (in fiction ofc). I'm just waiting for Caleb to come back to have a bit more insight into his character and see if the game explores on their dynamic at some point!

For now though, please have this drabble and I hope you will like it :)

Custom Made | Zayne/Reader + Caleb/Reader

About: Zayne never minded paying for you. If anything, he liked buying you gifts; and if given the chance, he would gladly spoil you. However, he hadn't realized that he wasn't the only one.

Pairings: Zayne/Reader, Caleb/Reader

Notes: A somewhat part 2 to Unspoken Rivalry! Can be read separately though. Still follows the events of the Valentine's event but not by much.

AO3: Read here!

Warnings: Implied love triangle.

Zayne wandered around your apartment as he waited for you to get ready for the banquet. This was hardly the first time he had ever been to your place, but he hadn’t had the time to look around then. Usually you were ready by the time he even considered looking around. So when you claimed you needed more time to look presentable and told him to make himself at home while he waited, Zayne nodded and told you to ask if you were to need help or a second opinion.

Not that you needed it anyway. Zayne was sure whatever you did, you would look stunning.

But Zayne understood why you needed time. If the situation was reversed and you asked him to accompany you to some event wherein he would meet your colleagues, he would’ve taken time to pick a suitable and flattering outfit as well. Hence why he was now walking around your apartment, taking in your tastes and interests as he waited patiently.

Your place was very much… you, he found. A large plushie here, a few cushions and a throw blanket there. Combined with the fresh flowers and natural lighting you preferred, this place felt homely; a stark contrast to his modern and sleek, yet somehow impersonal, residence. 

Stepping away from the balcony, Zayne was about to approach the mirror perched on the cabinet to examine his appearance when something caught his eye. 

It was a lone empty photo frame settled next to the mirror, and under it, was an assortment of pictures taken. 

Unable to stifle his curiosity, Zayne gathered up the scattered photos and shuffled through them. There was one with Grandma Josephine, a few with whom he recognized as your colleagues, one with a sleeping blond hair man with squiggles drawn all over his face, and one with a famous painter whose name he cannot recall at that moment. 

What made him pause the longest while examining however, was one with your mutual childhood friend, Caleb. You two stood side by side in front of a house, his arm around your shoulder while you tucked your hair behind your ear, caring not to have it tangled with your earring, and smiled for whoever– Josephine perhaps– was behind the camera.

Normally Zayne would’ve continued on, looking through the other photos as if he had not seen it and pointedly ignoring the fleeting what ifs that spawned in his mind. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop staring at the look Caleb had on his face, his mind unable to stop thinking at what the soft smile on his face meant while he was looking at you, instead of facing the camera.

Caleb gazed at you as though you were the only person that mattered, as though you were the only reason for his entire existence. 

Zayne knew that look. He had seen it on countless people’s faces. On his patients, on his colleagues… and even on himself, on a picture with you. The same picture he had secretly used as your chat background.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at the picture as though he could burn it with his gaze alone, until you snuck up to him, peering at what he had on his hands.

“What are you looking at?” Your voice snapped him out of his suffocating thoughts, his form rigid as your hand came contact with his. 

“You okay?” You asked, gasping when you felt his icy fingers against yours as you turned the picture towards you. The edges of it were coated with tiny ice crystals, its frost melting away as you wiped it. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Zayne replied after shaking his head, purging his mind of the coiling jealousy that took root. The past did not matter; you were here with him now, instead of with Caleb.

“Are you ready to go?” Zayne asked after flipping over the picture and slipping it under the pile. He awkwardly sidestepped your question, hoping that you would pick up on his reluctance and drop the matter entirely. He quietly sighed in relief when the dubious look on your face changed, replaced with a hesitant smile.

“Yes. What do you think? Am I overdressed or under dressed?” 

Zayne watched as you stepped back to allow him a better look at your outfit. Despite your protests, he had paid for the dress and heels in full, citing that it was only right for him to provide as he was the one who added you to the guest list. 

“You needn’t worry about that. You look immaculate.” Zayne said after giving you a once over, pleased that the dress he had picked out for you was to your tastes and suited you perfectly. He would’ve chosen accessories that would’ve gone well with the dress as well, if it weren’t for your insistence that you had the perfect match for it already. 

Well, Zayne took the liberty to pick out an accessory for you anyway as a gift. But that was not the focus now. 

Speaking of which… “Those earrings suit you well.” He stated as he admired the visage before him. The pair of earrings you chose were elegant in its design, subtly accentuating your features whilst drawing people in. It was as though they were tailor made for you and you only.

Despite having never seen you wear them before, a sense of déjà vu settled in. He had seen them somewhere, but he couldn’t name where…

“Really? Thanks.” You replied with a laugh, unaware of his sudden fixation upon your earrings. “They were a gift.”

“From who?”

“From Caleb! It was a gift for passing the licensure exams!”

A gift? Caleb?

Something immediately clicked within him as soon as repeated those words to himself. The picture of you and Caleb quickly appeared in the forefront of his mind, linking the two seemingly unrelated pieces of info together.

Of course. The earrings you were wearing now were the same ones you wore in the picture. 

While you told Zayne how you unsuccessfully tried to figure out where Caleb got the gift from so you could pay him back, Zayne examined the earrings you wore with great scrutiny, wondering where Caleb had gone to purchase these while listening to your failed attempts at espionage. 

The earrings you wore had a unique charm to them, and lacked the sterility and sameness that came with other pieces seen in boutiques. Zayne quickly drew to the conclusion that these were not only custom ordered, but handmade as well, with how well made they were.

There were only a select few stores that did handmade jewelry in Linkon. And to this quality… There was only one place that would be able to craft such a timeless art piece.

Zayne had to admit– albeit reluctantly– if these earrings were ones that Caleb had chosen without any prompting, or even designed himself, he had quite the taste, and an excellent eye for what would suit you the most. 

“...Zayne?”

Zayne blinked, realizing that he had unconsciously leaned forward to inspect your earring in detail. Pulling his hand away after tucking your hair behind your ear once more, he straightened himself and replied. 

“I know where they are from.” He said, huffing in amusement when he saw your face lit up at his response. “No. It would be impolite of me to reveal that.” 

“But Zayne–”

Said man huffed in amusement as you tried to persuade him, citing that you wanted to repay Caleb somehow. But Zayne remained silent, only replying with a small smile. 

It would be a horrible idea to do so. Despite the earrings being a gift from someone his darker, more jealous side considered as a rival, it was not his place to speak of its origins. But that was not the main reason why he maintained his silence.

Zayne slipped a hand in his slacks’ pocket while you were busy getting ready to leave, thumbing over a slim velvet box that contained a ring commissioned from the same place Caleb went to for your earrings.

It would be quite troublesome if you were to figure out how much they had spent, and were willing to spend, for you, after all. 

[serenxanthe]

OTP asks from this post

I've had this one for a while, but I really like to overthink things, hence the delay. I've got some more to answer too, which I'll try and get to over the next few days. Despite putting it off, I really enjoyed answering this one!

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other’s outfits; what is each wearing?

Seren loves Theron in the ubiquitous red leather jacket, partially because she thinks he looks good in it, but mostly because he loves it so much. When they decide to get married post-Nathema, Seren keeps putting it off. To stop him worrying that she’s having second thoughts, she tells him she’s waiting for his hair to grow back. In reality, as soon as they made it back home, even before they formally got back together, Seren asked Hylo to use her network of smugglers to track down Theron’s jacket after he’d abandoned it in an Order of Zildrog hideout when he adopted his ‘deep undercover’ look, or to source a copy if they can’t find the original. Hylo of course comes up with the goods on the morning of the wedding. Beyond that, she likes to see him in a fitted t-shirt and trousers for, er, reasons.

If Theron was to answer this question himself, he’d say he didn’t mind, whatever Seren was most comfortable in. He’d probably even believe that he meant it. Deep down though, he prefers it when she’s dressed in as un-Jedi-like way as possible. Not just because he likes to see her in something form-fitting or revealing, although he definitely does, but because seeing her dressed in traditional Jedi robes and armour reminds him of the bad parts of the beginning of their relationship; when they had to hide, lying to everyone around them, and to each other. If he was to pick a singular outfit he’d go with the dress and heels he bought for her to wear on their first date on Coruscant. Seren’s in her late thirties now, and her stomach isn’t as pancake flat as when she first wore it at twenty-two, but the dress is bias-cut, and she still looks perfect in it as far as Theron’s concerned.

[demented-tours]

hello!

i have been a fan of your works since almost a decade and it is safe to say that you’re one of my favourite authors to ever exist. i found your works through a03, specifically through the absolutely incredible dynamic of neji and kiba.

just wanted to come on here and say how much i adore all your works. especially the way you have written sai and captured his personality and autism so well, it holds such a special place in my heart (as do literally every character you have written)

i also wanted ask if there’s anything going to be added to the monoshizukanohi universe. it is beautiful and i am but ravenous for more. even if there is nothing planned, i have been and will continue to cherish the works you have put out there.

i have commented a few times on your works and also try to keep up on instagram but i feel too shy to actually come out here and say all this, hence the anon.

thank you so much for your service! (truly, and for free?! in this economy??? truly blessed)

- L

Well, hello there, Anon!

First off: thank you so much for sharing this with me. Notes like this remind me of why I do what I do, and that keeps me going through the chaos. All the virtual baked goods of your choice and many hugs, (if that's your thing; if not, then enthusiastic happy dances)!

Second: apologies for the small delay in responding; I've been under the weather. Also, if I've not responded to you over on A03, please bear with me, lol. I tend to do responses in batches. Sometimes interaction is difficult for me (neurospicy for the win).

NOW THEN! The good stuff.

Oh man, I love what you love! Writing Neji is just... so delightful. And Kiba's just the perfect foil for so many of my uptight/oblivious characters (ah, Gaara; you never saw him coming... until you definitely did, HA). And oh, Sai and Tenzou! I had no idea how cathartic that story was for me until the final page. I'm so glad you enjoyed those!

As for new Mono stories... Actually, yes. There is one in progress. It's another Origins story, like LET FREEDOM BLEED was. They're sort of the backstory/underpinning stories that star characters referenced and interwoven into what already exists. Keep in mind, I started writing Mono in 2008 (dear lord; where did the time go?); wrote pretty steady until 2014 or so; took a few years of unintentional break; came back to finish LESSONS IN LIVING; and then, well... The characters came knocking, again. I write Mono as a sort of... therapy, if you will, for myself. There's a freedom in writing fanfiction that just hits differently than the books/stories/etc. I write for paid publication. I don't think I knew I was doing that (the therapy thing) when I started, but I can definitely see it now, so this latest story is sort of... eh, a deliberate attempt? Or, like, I know it's helping me work shit out, if that makes sense? It doesn't impact the story, exactly; it's more just I know WHY I'm choosing to do this to myself, lol, lol.

I ramble. I do that. Point being: I AM working on something. I don't mind sharing that it's Itachi's story. It's called THE BELOVED MARTYR, and it is the longest thing I have literally ever written, and it's not done. Right now it's sitting at (are you sitting down?) roughly 900 pages, or 370,500 words. It spans Itachi's entire life (he's about 40 or so in current Mono canon) - so we see him as a boy, we see it when Sasuke is born, family, growing up, and just the sheer, unadulterated mayhem that is his existence. It has a cast of about 50 original characters (there's going to be an index of who's-who whenever this thing gets posted) plus all the usual Mono boys. It's basically my version of fandom canon--how the Uchiha family is old, powerful, and believes itself to be the shepherds of a new order under their control, but translated into the Mono world reality. Oligarchy, old Russian power, older Japanese power, the movers and shakers and often-criminal intrigue that affect global change and disaster... And in the heart of it all, one man who wants to stop the violence and heal himself and those he loves. One of my greatest loves in fandom is figuring out how canon could translate into my version of reality, and this one... considering Itachi's arch... is enormous and sad and lovely and aching all in one. I started writing it when my mother was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer (she's in recovery), and, well... It's also MY healing journey, in a way, lol--not just from that, but in life.

Grand themes, I grant you, but there's also humor and OH SO MUCH kink and violence and that nitty-gritty-teeth-clench thing that I loved about Rhythm & Bruise. We also get Nagato's backstory (my version of him), and yep, we get to see how Sasuke and Naruto meet and fall in love. People have been asking for that for years, and I've never really been drawn to write it, but it's a part of this because Sasuke is such a huge part of Itachi's life and purpose.

SO. Yeah. Um... in progress. I don't post things until they're done--I learned that lesson with LESSONS IN LIVING. I'm working on this in and around other novels and stories, not to mention the day job, which is ALSO writing, among other things, so it might be a while, yet. Occasionally, I post on this Tumblr (which is basically the only social media I use, these days, as i HATE Twitter/X or whatever and Instagram isn't made for words, really, etc.), so if you feel like hanging out, please do!

This is probably more than you bargained for with your lovely ask, but hopefully that's not a bad thing!

Regardless, I am delighted that you enjoy the stories, and I thank you so much for letting me know you're here.

All good things to you and yours, <3Dee

[magicpotatoobsession]

@sillyfanturtle, sorry for the delay but I finally got around to answering the second question you had in your ask!

THE "TRIGGER" TO EVOLVE:

Kizu I think specifically kept in ambiguous so that the reader can read it in many different ways so here I am just presenting my interpretation. Let's talk about Ugetsu for a hot second. In retrospect, every jab like "show me music that's worth listening to" is actually Ugetsu's own way of trying to trigger Akihiko to love music and MAKE music wholeheartedly again. Ugetsu puts himself on a pedestal to hopefully ignite the fire within Akihiko. But it's actually been causing the opposite effect on Akihiko, the hurtful words and actions chipping away at his self-esteem and confidence in music. But Ugetsu doesn't seem to realise that...

Then, it was at that first performance that Ugetsu saw how Mafuyu and himself are similar, he strongly believed that they were musical genius-types who use music as a form of emotional outlet.

So in Ch 13, Ugetsu thought that he can also be the trigger for Mafuyu to not only use music as an emotional outlet, but to truly love and create music.

The "he" Ugetsu is referring to here is I believe Mafuyu. He is thinking, I, a successful musician, can be both Akihiko and Mafuyu's triggers to fall in love with music and create music wholeheartedly. Ugetsu at this point in the story means well but his approach is quite ego-centric; which is to have people be consistently in awe of you or put yourself on a pedestal.

Now i want to defend Ugetsu for a tangent, Ugetsu has been conditioned to think that loneliness and genius is tied. He grew up lonely, then when he found music, other people only ever saw him as a genius including Akihiko, which further alienated him from people. Society has attributed his self-worth akin to that of a musical genius, so that's all he has ever known, that's the only language he knows to show others that he cares.

Hence Ugetsu invites Mafuyu to his concert. And it works! (to a degree) Mafuyu, in awe of Ugetsu, says, "Akihiko, I want to make music".

---

Then we come to Ch 26. Where Akihiko has a huge fight with Ugetsu when he mentions he wants to move out, then the moment Akihiko sees Haruki, he says, "it's good to be home". Now this is very important. While Haruki doesn't actively do anything like Ugetsu to trigger Akihiko, Haruki was the one was founded the band and indirectly created a HOME for all the members of Given, including Akihiko.

Then Ch 27, Akihiko was just about to spiral when Haruki bonked him on the head to snap him out of it.

REMEMBER, Ugetsu is there, Ugetsu sees all this.

Later, Akihiko says, "When did I start hating music? Even though I once loved it so much, even though I once remember shivering in awe like I am right now, the first time I heard Ugetsu play...That's right...I love music".

Same chapter, a realisation dawns on Ugetsu.

He himself is not the trigger. Haruki is. He doesn't know quite what Haruki has done, but he could see over the past few months that Akihiko isn't latched onto him anymore, Akihiko is finding the confidence to leave him, to evolve, because Akihiko has finally recognised Haruki as a place to come home to.

Given implicitly demonstrates that the trigger to get someone to commit to music wholeheartedly isn't to create distance between yourself and them but putting yourself above them, but to create a HOME, a safe space with love and support. Loneliness and genius isn't inherently tied, but love and music is.

(this is all implied) Mafuyu was able to accurately capture his own emotions as well as Akihiko and Ugetsu's emotions in Yoru Ga Akeru because he had Haruki, as the bass, the foundation of the band supporting him to do so (and Uenoyama guiding him). Mafuyu becomes more daring and confident on stage because of his new found family of the Given band.

The fact that Akihiko realises he love music is because Haruki and Given is a home he can go to.

I hope I answered your question!

My Given Metas

[acourtofquestions]

I personally love all of SJM’s books, and have read TOG and ACOTAR (I’m on the second book of CC) but I’ve seen multiple anti-SJM posts on tumblr. I personally disagree with them, but what’s your opinion?

(One of the main things they argue is that Rhysand was abusive)

A very good question! Thanks for asking! I always love talking about fandom stuff & your posts are always a fav😊🫶 @romantasyreader28 (apology in advance for the delay & long ramble lol; it was a good question I had many thoughts on🤣)

I was actually pondering something similar within this note but separate for an updated reading post on Rowan from TOG (I’m reading HoF for the first time; & though I generally try not to pick “pro/anti” (as there’s always another side to the story) not gonna lie I was near “anti”-Rowan… until PT. 2… hence the more “pro”-Rowan upcoming post😂).

— So there are definitely a LOT of changing opinions depending on the point in the series.

As far as Rhysand goes:

I was on a rollercoaster with him at first too, the introductory chapters & UTM time period were concerning (assault is a big trigger for me; so having Feyre drink faerie wine, “marking” her with paint, & kissing her without consent was disturbing).

With that said, I did find his character generally easier to “like/not loathe” on first read in comparison to other “enemies to lovers”. I think this is because of a few reasons… The 1st being you know there is more going on beneath the surface. 2nd, the perspective it’s written in shows their draw to each-other & makes swaying the audience easier. 3rd the undercurrents to their banter & little clues to more within their interactions; such as him betting on HER; shows he believes in her & also something more. Finally, it is furthered by the already very dark setting, not to give excuse but to more easily explain the why which is NOT of malice. My biggest point is that he does not defend it, apologizes for it & it is not portrayed as “okay”.

He is not perfect, he can be read as hero or villain; he does NOT make the same mistake twice, he DOES apologize, he does TRY to be better. He creates a sanctuary specifically for women to escape abuse, he makes a lot of effort to give Feyre HER choices & empower her to make them. And the times we are shown his side it is much less morally murky.

I know there is a lot of anger around him hiding the risk of Feyre & Nyx; I don’t disagree it is wrong & confusing, but we do not get the full picture, clearly showing in the other perspectives. & The other being his threat to Nesta after she tells Feyre; which was wrong & he knows it. — There is a difference however between anger & action. — While many of these patterns could probably be deemed as abusive, they could also be deemed as acceptable/explainable. Which one is correct?

— Well, at the end of the day it’s fiction. Within a genre that very much struggles with this as a whole. & While there is something to be said for “real world” power within fictional escapes. It also comes with a different & messier set of non-existent rules; if we are to examine them all, quickly everything becomes problematic. & maybe that’s good to do, maybe not; it’s worth acknowledging; but in that acknowledge that it is fiction.

Meanwhile, writers are real people. So be wary of jumping toward conclusions on either side…

As far as SJM goes:

I don’t know & we’ve never met, I don’t know what she’s like, what she believes in, what she’s experienced. I doubt anyone would write a series with the intention to sway people into abusive relationships. & though intent is a good question to ask; I tend to lean similarly towards no.

There are times I think abuse is shown; whether intentional (as Arobynn and Celaena), or questionably (Tamlin & Feyre’s first kiss; a moment that bothered me as she is drunk, but I actually appreciate because it is shown how problematic they are later; point to it as a key warning, not “romantic fairytale” to aspire for).

I also think the Maasverse does take time to give survivors & “unspoken stories” a spotlight, that means a great deal (or at least it did to me) with characters like Gwyn being a large one.

It serves as an enjoyable escape from the world; one we know is fiction. A morality that can be more “fun” to debate & ponder, but still exists within fiction & opinion primarily over actual moral grounding.

For me: I love Rhysand (though I may not wish to marry him in the real world) I wish to have someone to hold my hair when I have nightmares & I loved watching him and Feyre fall in love in moments like that; I love the way SJM turns plots on their heads & think she does a great job with them.

Reading throne of glass as my next Maasverse series has been cathartic; I have thoroughly enjoyed many dynamics and actually praised them for flipping stereotypes on their heads & NOT being abusive.

So, while I think there are many sides and points to argue & at the end of the day is generally within fiction; I enjoy SJM’s writing & reading them. I generally don’t find it more problematic than other series. And prefer to enjoy fandoms, or move along if it doesn’t feed me healthily.

[zeleneagle]

Finished the SOTE dlc fully (pretty much at least)

Boss ratings (in the order that I fought them):

Divine Lion dancing beast: 8/10, fun fight even if it's difficult, not too frustrating, looks very cool, very solid overall

Rellana, Twin Moon Knight: 7.5/10 slightly less fun than Divine Lion imo but still a good fight, like pontiff sulyvahn if he had HRT

Golden Hippopotamus: 7/10, solid fight, sorta fun, not too much to say about this one

Scadutree avatar: 3/10, I really dislike these very large bosses with high movement speed who just knock you around and run away, there's a few of those in this dlc unfortunately, just not something I like

Messmer the impaler: 9/10, very nice fight, skillful but not frustrating once you figure out how to dodge his attacks (rolling forward every time), one of my faves in the DLC

Commander Gaius: 7/10, same deal as the hippo, an alright fight but not too much to say about it, didn't wow me nor frustrate me

Romina, Saint of the bud: 9/10, another fave like Messmer, the fight itself is really cool and she's fun to fight so long as you dodge properly

Promised consort Radahn: 6/10, if it was just the first phase and then ramped up slightly this might've been an 8 or 9 instead, but that second phase exists. I just don't like it, there's too much bullshit and I pretty much just got through it cus I had an OP build and dealt more damage than he did in time, tldr: first phase good, second phase bad

Midra, lord of frenzied flame: 8.5/10, very solid fight, nice moveset, very cool location and story too

Putrescent knight: 3/10, just like scadutree avatar, I just don't like it, the moveset is annoying with delays, the bitch moves around constantly, and if he hits you he knocks you on your ass so the next hit also lands. Just an annoying fight.

Metyr, mother of fingers: 8/10, fun fight IMO, looks cool too and I like Ymir's quest to reach her

Bayle the Dread: Now normally I'd give this fight 8/10 BUT, Igon is there which elevates it to a 9.5/10, definitely my favorite fromsoft dragon fight, good job fromsoft.

I'll put the area and lore ratings after a break since this is long enough already.

AREA RATINGS:

Gravesite plain: 6/10, this is not a bad area but pales in comparison to some other areas in the dlc, hence the lower score, pretty enough

Scadu altus: 6/10, pretty much the same as gravesite plain

Shadow keep: 6/10, fine enough area but once again, doesnt really stand out to me

Scadutree: 6.5/10, starting to get there, this area is somewhat nicer than the others so far

Scadutree base: 4/10, the view of the tree is cool ig but the avatar is there and youre only there for as long as you fight that thing

Hinterlands: 8/10, pretty along with some cool lore spots like the finger ruins and shaman village, nice

Ancient ruins of Rauh: 9/10, very cool area, love the aesthetics of it, amazing

Tower of shadow: 7/10, looks alright, sorta fun to traverse, not much more to say about it

Abyssal woods: 10/10, the area looks amazing, the lore is great, the gameplay is refreshing, perfection

Cerulean coast: 9/10, once again, looks amazing, finding this right out of a cave system gives the same vibes as siofra did, very good

Stone coffin fissure: 7/10, looks alright but thats about it, the st trina room at the end on its own gets an 8.5/10

Jagged peak: 9/10, looks cool, filled with dragons, gives a very nice sense of adventure

Overall the areas themselves are very nice, especially the ones to the south

LORE STUFF:

One of the things that sorta pulled the dlc down for me is Miquella and all the bs around him. Called Miquella the kind but just seems cruel and self absorbed to me. My friend did point out that "the kind" may be a mistranslation since in spanish it is more "polite Miquella" or something.

To be more specific, its the name that bothers me and how they handled Miquella lore. I think how he behaves is spot on, a child who is revered as prodigy with angelic looks, likely never told hes in the wrong, would likely behave the way he does.

Dunno why but "kindly" for such a person just annoys me, if it is indeed a mistranslation then that fixes my annoyance. So overall Miquella lore 5/10 for me

Overall dlc rating: 7.5/10

The other bits of lore are cool but the part that especially cranks up the rating here are Igon and Bayle, absolutely iconic npc, 10/10.

[tbrookswritingblog]

Hello everyone,

The 6th chapter of "To Save a Mockingjay" is not where I think it needs to be quite yet but I am too tired to keep working on it tonight so I plan to post the full chapter either tomorrow or Tuesday. Sorry for the delay!! HOWEVER, I didn't want to keep you all completely hanging so I decided to go ahead and post a part of it here as an apology and a thank you for your patience!! I am really nervous about this chapter as it goes in a direction I didn't originally intend and I am unsure of Coriolanus's voice/characterization. If you are willing and able, please share with me your thoughts! It may change what I do in this chapter...

EXTENDED CHAPTER 6 SNEAK PEEK

Snow POV

Disclaimer: I'd still consider this a rough version but not as bad as the other bits I am working on 😅 hence why I am fine with posting it.

***

Coriolanus watched in shock as Sejanus failed to respond to his jesting and instead began to tremble in place. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He stayed like that for a few moments, unresponsive to any of the words of concern echoing around him before suddenly, he stopped. Then, he fell.

“Someone catch him!” Smiley exclaimed. Coriolanus was the first to react. He grabbed onto Sejanus right before he hit the floor. He shook him. "Sejanus?"

He didn't respond.

His face was growing paler by the second and his breathing was shallow. What was happening? Was he having a heart attack? A seizure? Surprisingly, Coriolanus had never witnessed either of these, not even during the war. But the thought of Sejanus having one of them made his blood run cold. 

Officers ran over to them. “What's wrong with Private Plinth?” they demanded. 

“I don't know,” answered Coriolanus. Something he didn't like. “He just collapsed.”

One of the officers then checked Sejanus's pulse and placed an ear above his chest. “He has a pulse and is still breathing. Let's get him up and take him to medical.” 

Coriolanus was aided by the rest of their bunkmates in lifting Sejanus off of the floor and carrying him to the clinic. Although, truthfully, he thought that they didn't need as many hands to get Sejanus up. Sejanus was surprisingly light.

A doctor and team of nurses quickly surrounded the bunkmates upon their arrival and had them lay Sejanus on a bed. They then dismissed them, explaining there was no waiting room and that the clinic was much too small for 4 teens to be lingering about. Coriolanus protested against this but he was met with stern resistance. Having no other choice, he returned with Bug, Beanpole, and Smiley to the mess hall to continue breakfast. 

It was a futile endeavor. He soon discovered that he could no longer get himself to eat. The others did not share this same difficulty. They brought up different scenarios as to what could have happened to Sejanus, including the idea that maybe he had an allergic reaction (which Coriolanus immediately shut down with the great point that Sejanus hadn't taken a bite of his food before he had his medical emergency and that he had eaten the same meal before with no such reaction). Bug, who had witnessed someone have a seizure before, feared that Sejanus had, in fact, experienced one, which did nothing to ease Coriolanus's apprehension.

Right when they thought things couldn't get any worse, Sarge then came in and broke the bitter news that after the scuffle last night, no one was allowed to leave the base alone. It was even being considered that the Hob would become off-limits. Truthfully, Coriolanus had momentarily forgotten about his plans to track down Lucy Gray with all the commotion surrounding Sejanus. But with the new rule in place, Lucy Gray and his burning desire to see her was brought back to the forefront of his mind. He glanced over his bunkmates, who were also upset to learn of the new protocol. He couldn't ask one of them to be his partner. Not if he didn't want to be bombarded with questions, or expose his cheating in the Games. He was better off waiting for Sejanus and asking him to accompany him.

‘That’s if Sejanus gets better,’ reminded a pessimistic inner voice. Nonsense. Of course he would get better.

He would.

They all headed back to their room after breakfast, with Bug, Smiley, and Beanpole doing so for their lingering headaches and Coriolanus because he had nothing better to do. While the others slept in their bunks, Coriolanus wrote a letter to Tigris. He didn't get very far on it. Words failed to come to him as easily as they often did, and after three scratched-out sentences, Coriolanus placed down the pen and opted to stare at the ceiling. 

His mind kept juggling between thoughts of Sejanus and Lucy Gray. Him seeing Sejanus again for the first time since the Games. The utter joy and hope that had filled him upon realizing he was no longer alone in this nightmarish world. The thrill he got at hearing Lucy Gray singing on stage. His terrible want to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. 

Then a more troubling thought; the idea of Sejanus abandoning him here in this backwoods district, with the inability to ever see Lucy Gray again. It had a probable chance of happening, given the circumstances. Coriolanus could see it now. Sejanus being deemed too ill to stay in the Peacekeepers, leaving the doctors no choice but to send him back to the Capitol and in the care of Ma and Strabo Plinth. Sejanus sulking about how miserable he was and how his family didn’t understand him while sipping on tea behind strong, Capitol walls. Meanwhile, Coriolanus destined for a life of solitude and tediousness in a degenerate place, with no chance of escape unless he passed his officer exam. And would he even pass? Certainly not, what with how little he'd been studying, mind focused on daydreams of Lucy Gray.

Or consider an even darker picture: a black casket with flowers atop it and a munitions giant glancing flippantly at Coriolanus before turning away, forgetting about his existence entirely. In this bleakest of scenarios, there would be no more baked goods from Ma. No Plinth sympathy to rely on if ever needed. Why would there be? There would no longer be a connection between the families, not with the foundation of it being dead. For what else could Coriolanus offer Strabo Plinth if not friendship to his wayward son? Money? Strabo had plenty. Status? Perhaps once, but now such a gesture would be shaky at best. Power? Coriolanus Snow had no power. Coriolanus had nothing. Nothing but an old family name.