#honestly i don’t even care if no one reads this series because regardless it NEEDS to be put out there

[hoetachi]

sooo i have an wip series incoming and just wanted to test the waters

FLASHPOINT: JOHNNY STORM & [Y/N] CAUGHT IN PUBLIC BLOWUP—DOES THE HUMAN TORCH HAVE A TEMPER?

FIRE & DESIRE: JOHNNY STORM & [Y/N] TURN UP THE HEAT IN NEWEST PUBLIC APPEARANCE!

“do you guys ever get tired of reading these?” sue quirked a blonde brow, flipping through the magazines. “look at ‘em, susie?,” ben let out a long sigh, rubbing his overly calloused finger to his temple. sue looked up to be faced by a disgusting sight. johnny gripped your exposed thigh that spilled out of the slit of your hand-stitched designer dress, gripping you closer— the contrast between his veiny hand and the silk of the deep cetacean blue were the perfect combination. your lips meshed together without any sign of discernment— nor quieting with both your ceaseless moans, whilst both of you freely roam each others bodies.

does it look like it’s stopping them?” ben shook his head while crossing his large arms, unimpressed with their crude PDA and lack of respect for the rest of the occupants that rode with them

johnny pulled back, causing an airy whine to leave your lips. he flashed ben his signature cocky smile— that could make panties fall and fists clench white— that plastered across his lips, “c’mon pebbles! it’s called passion, and i am an passionate lover. ain’t that right, princess?” giving his lips a quick lick, savoring your vanilla-bean lipgloss

“you have your moments” you rolled your eyes with an amused smirk, gaining a squeeze on your thigh— still lounging comfortably on his lap. you readily had your compact mirror in hand, checking for any misconstructions in your makeup. everything seemed fine still, but it didn’t hurt to apply more gloss since your giddy casanova wanted to show his passion for you so hungrily

“and to answer your question sue, we’re stars. it’s nothin’ if we get into the mags every once in a while” you shrugged, swiping your lips with the tube skillfully. a bad headline wasn’t nothing to you and johnny, you two had plenty of more good deals to outsell the bad press. he snapped his finger, agreeing immediately with your explanation. “exactly! it’s—“

“still doesn’t excuse the fact you got caught with two victoria secret models” you side-eyed him, moving your thigh and crossing your legs. to say johnny’s a cheater would— how’d he said it? ‘scorned his pride’; he claims he’s an empath… who happens to get caught up in the moment sometimes. yeah right, empath yo’ ass

thoughts @pinkhoodi ?

[flicklikesstuff]

Idk if anyone else has noticed this but no one brought it up so…..

Remember how Viv said that Husk refuses to embrace his demon form and thus, doesn’t use his wings often for flight?

And yeah, we never see Husk fly at all prior to Ep 8. In Ep 3, we see him sneak away from the battle exercise, despite the fact that if Vaggie really did throw him, he could’ve easily just flown and skipped it. But he didn’t. And at least we know why.

(Hence, I just have this headcanon that Husk just secretly never knew how to properly fly ever since he first arrived.

Because he felt like he didn’t need to. He had his powers and can handle himself. He used to be a powerful Overlord. And even now, he’s currently under Alastor’s ‘protection.’ Basically, just never really found a reason to learn it, couldn’t be bothered, and simply just because….He doesn’t wanna.)

But then the threat of the extermination came and everything he grew to care about was at risk. And what does he do?

He flies.

For the hotel. For his friends.

He even went to see if his bf Angel’s alright. What a sweetie :))

Since Husk presumably doesn’t do flying a lot usually, it makes sense his back would hurt so much from the excessive strain his wings had to do all of a sudden. He’s not used to this much of flying. Heck, even his poor wings completely drooped to the floor!

He literally gave his back out for his friends- :((

This is going to delve a little bit into headcanon territory from this point onwards. You don’t have to read down if you’re not interested. ⬇️

……..

So Personal Headcanon:

I like to think that in Ep 7, while Vaggie is away with Carmilla and Charlie with Alastor, the other 4 were up to their own shenanigans off screen.

I honestly thought their friendship didn’t get to develop as much as I wanted it to. Especially the interactions with Sir Pentious and Niffty weren’t a lot. The series just established them as close friends and expects us to just take it as word but didn’t really show it much. Maybe Pentious’ death would hit harder if we actually saw him get closer to the others rather than being made fun of all the time.

Anyways, back to the HC, these 4 bonded some more while boarding the place. (Awww, all without being told by Charlie).

And since they knew they’re going to be up against FLYING angels, Angel commented that Husk’s wings can be put to good use for once, rather than just being displayed.

Husk was insecure and got defensive at first, eventually sheepishly admitting he doesn’t know how to use them. Slightly opening up how he hates his current form. While Angel and Pentious were confused at first, they both didn’t make fun of it any further. (Because yay! Development! Charlie would be proud.)

Husk warms up a little and claims that “Fine, he’ll try for the hotel’s sake but this is a one time thing…blah blah blah.”

Cue Pentious using and teaching his ‘expertise’ on flight from his machines. Angel smirking every time a clueless Pentious discusses the forces of “Lift, Drag, Weight and…ahem. Thrust.” Meanwhile, Husk attempts to ignore Angel but fails to resist smirking back at times. (Because I know Huskerdust fans love collecting crumbs) And later on, Niffty insisting she wants to be the one to push Husk off the balcony for practice.

Which, she does. On Angel’s count of 3. But she pushes him before Angel could even begin counting. Pentious debating and suggesting whether it’s better for the trial to do it ON 3, BEFORE 3, or start from 1. Regardless, Niffty messes each trial up. And Husk is just regretting everything in this nightmare his 3 friends call “training.” This is just one of their many shenanigans btw.

Eventually though, Husk did get the hang of it….somewhat. He could glide, take off and hover. But couldn’t really stay up long or fly high because his muscles and stamina for flight are terrible since he doesn’t do it often. Thus, why Husk stays very close to the ground during the final battle and only flies short distances. But the 4 considered it good enough.

(Angel made a joke on the “lack of stamina,” and got thrown in the face by a bottle. But yeah, all of them had some fun to a degree and became more emotionally bonded. All before Charlie and Vaggie came back with backup. Woohoo!

Hopefully they won’t see a particular snake die in front of their eyes-)

If any of y’all want to make a fic of this concept, be my guest. The only condition is that you share me the link :))

[impishjesters]

Mafia Boss Jax x Reader

warning(s): gun mentioned, stalking mentioned, domestic/soft Jax, marriage mentioned note(s): Honestly couldn't really see much worth tagging, it's all just stuff you'd expect to see mentioned in a mafia/gang headcanon... A/N: So I saw a fanart thingie (and I've had it on the brain anyway) and it made me thirsty for some mafia boss Jax and I just... I might have to write up a one-shot (or series) at some point but this was enough to quench my thirst...temporarily. I can definitely see myself building a universe around this idea though. I'm excited as you can tell because I just kept fuckin' going in writing this out... Also feast upon domestic Jax in the latter half, I got mushy...

Jax is a tricky boss, it’s hard to get a solid read on him, as an enemy or an ally. He’s almost always sporting a grin, making it difficult to gauge unless you can tell those smiles apart. If he’s frowning? Ha.

He’s that fine middle ground of laid-back yet strict. His word is law, get shit done and do it right and he doesn’t particularly care about the rest.

This person needs to be killed, but before that, they need to be tortured for information. How you torture or kill them doesn’t matter, you get that information or else.

Rabbits are his motif design, not originally by choice but it stuck. Purple rabbit head, his signature grin, it’s childish—which is why it’s perfect, only idiots see that childish design and think “Oh this will be easy” and then it’s fuckin not.

Working for him means nobody is an exception to his little pranks and fuckery. Nothin’ too bad—not intentionally anyways. Bunch of wackos with guns, who thought they’d get trigger-happy when startled?

If you work for him, chances are he finds you a fun target for his mischief.

He might seem buddy buddy with you, but remember he’s your boss. Chances are you are acquaintances at best, not friends. At least for now—who knows?

If you’re dating him, well howdy hey aren’t you a pretty little thing on his arm?

Just kidding, regardless of whether you work under him or not you are given standard gun training as protection for yourself and him, but mainly yourself.

He does like it when you are his date for any events, though he’ll never say it. Jax is the type to bring up an event and do the whole shtick of “guess I’ll need to find a date” sorta guy.

Back on the topic of dating him and gun training—on the off chance you are dating and don’t know about his little crew and lifestyle… What the fuck’s wrong with you? Are you that blind? His position isn’t some well-kept secret, well not to anyone who knows anything.

Jax is pretty straightforward about it, except with his track record of joking there’s like a 97% chance you thought he was kidding when he said he’s a mafia boss. Ha, surprise.

Now if the two of you are dating, and you aren’t part of his little world then he does do his best to keep you out of it. This means that there are periods when you won’t see him, whether it’s because he’s busy or for safety reasons.

You aren’t safe from spam texts, calls, and video chats though. Nah, that’s all fair game to him baby.

Oh, you got work in the morning? Tough, he’ll stay on the phone/video with you until you pass out—he might go a step further and stay on the call for hours even if you are unconscious.

He does it for one of three reasons…

One, it gives him fuel to use whatever shit you say or do in your sleep to tease you with later.

Two, your company, albeit silent and unaware that you’re keeping him company, makes him feel less alone. Moments like this are often when he’s not working and at home, alone. Hearing you breathe, babble, and shuffle around on speaker has him feeling less alone in that big home of his.

Three, it gives him some piece of mind that you are okay, he can see and hear you, and no guns or glass are breaking to be heard. You’re safe. Moments like this are usually after stressful events, whether it’s a job gone wrong, someone injured, etc.

Those calls usually last through the night into the morning and you wake up and see the call still on or see him on the screen. He’s never told you about why some calls continue into the morning, or rather why he’s still awake when he should’ve been sleeping. Though it doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s not just him being a stalker, but something more serious—if the oddly sweet tone he uses when telling you good morning and asking how you slept is anything to go by.

That said, Jax is not a morning person—even to you. Though if he’s awake before you or has yet to sleep, he’s oddly tender and domestic when it’s just the two of you.

“How’d ya sleep, angel? Dream of me? Nah, don’t answer that, I know ya did.”

“Hey sleepyhead, got ya coffee and breakfast ready. No, I didn’t put anything suspicious in it. I’m wounded doll, ya think I’d put in all that effort to make you breakfast just to ruin it?”

Okay so he’s still a little shit, but he’s got an unspoken soft spot for you.

Speaking of soft spots, if he’s truly down bad for you then that means you are his weakness. He can’t have those—no he’s not gonna kill ya Christ calm down—that means you’re at risk of getting hurt if word gets out.

So if the two of you aren’t at that level yet and are still living apart, he tries hard to keep his distance to keep the attention off you.

But if you are living together? You’re still at risk but he’s got his security measures, and bodyguards galore—even if you don’t live together he always has someone watching you—sure it’s a little creepy but just don’t think about it alright?

I said don’t think about it.

Jax does yet doesn’t understand the line of stalking. To him he’s keeping you safe, to you it’s likely an invasion of your privacy—but if you are anything like me then as long as there’s no malicious intent he can do his own thing. I dunno bout you but I’d rather him have eyes on me than something bad happen to me.

While living together it doesn’t take a genius to tell you that Jax visibly relaxes in your presence, especially when he comes home and gets into bed with you. He’s such a domestic sucker deep down, but you don’t need words to see that.

Overall, I feel like Jax wouldn’t date you if he didn’t have serious feelings for you. His lifestyle isn’t for everyone and he doesn’t open up to just anyone, it could take years before he finally allows himself to even ask you out on a date before considering more. But once the two of you are together he sees the two of you in for the long run, he’ll probably be upfront about it and say if you aren’t in this for the long run and potential marriage then he can’t do it.

Your Jax’s ride or die, please allow him to be yours too.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Pack parents done in PUBLIC???!??!!!?!

Please pls pls pls would you share that scene 🥹🥹🥹

this ask has been in my inbox since the beginning of june lol.

i'm honestly glad i kept it bc i can finally share this lil drabble with y'all. hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series. you don’t really need to read any other instalment to understand/enjoy this piece). | Word Count: ~1k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · smut · established relationship · unprotected penetration (piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control) · public shenanigans · interruptions.

minors do not interact.

‘I’ll be quick’, Chris said…

‘Just wanna feel you, pretty… Please? Hm?’ Chris said…

And you, of course, said yes. Because why wouldn’t you?

Of course you let him pull you out of your very private room, and to the very public outdoor barbeque of his house in the woods this very early in the morning. 

The area was far to the side of the house, with no windows above it, so in theory, if you were careful, no one would find you.

A little while ago, as soon as you gave him the go-ahead, Chris took you right here, and sat you on the brick counter next to the grill–right after he placed a folded tablecloth for your bare bum to not rub against the coarse surface, of course.

“You’re so… fucking… warm…” With a hand on the bricks and the other on your lower back, Chris emphasised each word with his sharp thrusts, mumbling right in your ear, doing his absolute best to keep his volume to a minimum.

“Fuck, Chris… That’s so… good…” You whispered in his ear, whimpering, tightening your grip on his hair and the hold of your legs around his waist.

Your dress gave him easy access to most of the areas he loved to provide attention to. Your centre, your thighs, your neck, your cleavage… Even then, you opted to not let your tits out, just in case.

You’d discovered recently that your boyfriend had a thing for fucking you right in the open, and the more you tried it, the more you started to warm up to it yourself. Maybe a little too much…

There was something exhilarating about the possibility of getting caught… It gave you a sense of urgency and desperation that just couldn’t be matched. Chris always got so needy, he always fucked you hard and fast regardless of the setting, just to make sure he got you to come and so he could blow his load either in your mouth, deep within your warmth, or anywhere he could, really.

“Fuck… One day, I’m gonna have you right in the forest. Hm? So you don’t need to keep a single sound to yourself…” Chris mumbled, his pace relentless as he kept drilling into you. “Want to hear you scream my name so, so bad, baby…”

You couldn’t help but whine, digging your nails on his shoulder. You, too, wanted to scream his name so badly… But you knew better. You were a bit cock-drunk, yes, but you were still coherent enough to know that if you got too loud, you’d never hear the end of it from your pack mates.

You could feel your arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, Chris’ precise thrusts stimulating those sensitive areas within you had you incredibly close to your release, and if he kept going like this, you just knew you’d come.

“You’d have me–have me in the forest?” You tightened your grip on his hair, and readjusted your ankles to make sure they were locked with one another to keep your legs around his torso. Chris’ lips on your neck made it so you could barely think, and you shivered when his hair tickled your skin with the minute nod of his head. “Have the whole forest know I’m claimed by the–by the alpha wolf?”

“Mhm, all fucking mine…”

Before you knew it, Chris was kissing you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth, getting his tongue inside your mouth, stealing the air straight out of your lungs. You felt dizzy, drunk on the taste of his lips, his tongue, and the feel of him ramming into you. 

One of his hands greedily palmed your thigh, squeezing it roughly, matching the pace of his lips and his hips. You held onto his shoulders, trying–and failing–to not make any sound. Your quiet whines and his muffled groans filtered between your lips with the motions of your kiss.

This angle was just perfect, Chris was hitting right where you needed him to, and that pool of desire in your belly was so, so ready to overflow. It wouldn’t be long now for sure before you finally got your relief, probably just a precise rub to your clit would be enough–

“Jesus Christ on a skateboard!”

Your skeleton almost jumped out of your body. The haze in your mind dissipated almost completely as soon as you registered the familiar voice. Chris had a similar reaction, he stopped his movements, but he remained inside you, and started swearing, loudly.

“For fuck’s sake, Seungmin!”

“Ew! Ew! Ew!” Seungmin was covering his eyes, pressing on his eye sockets with his fingertips as he walked in circles on the spot. “Why, why, why, why, why meee?”

All you could do was laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

“Stop laughing! You’re just squeezing me harder if you do, god!” Chris held your hips tightly, but it only made you laugh harder.

“Noooooo! Why did you have to say that?! Oh, my God. I crave death”, Seungmin whined from where he was still walking in circles, still covering his eyes.

“Why the fuck are you still here?! Go away! Let me fuck my girlfriend in peace, will you?!” 

“I just came to tell you breakfast was ready!” Seungmin stopped walking, but he didn’t remove his hands from his face. “I didn’t think you’d be literally fucking right here. God, I need to pour bleach in my eyes…”

Had it been anyone else, the scent of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin, and your quiet sounds of pleasure would’ve probably tipped them about what was going on here before they got too close. However, for a werewolf, Seungmin tended to get engrossed in his thoughts very often, enough to not perceive anything that surrounded him, so the poor boy had to unexpectedly witness this very intimate moment…

Chris sighed. “Seungmin!”

“Okay, okay! I’m leaving!” Still covering his eyes, Seungmin finally started to walk away. “Hope you know I’m gonna send you my therapy bill!”

By this point, your laugh fit had subsided, but you could still feel this need to chuckle bubbling deep within your chest. Although, to be fair, the sudden interruption and the whiplash of emotions had you feeling a bit lightheaded.

Chris sighed again, rolling his eyes and shaking his head from side to side. When he returned his eyes to yours, he looked at you for a few seconds, and the scowl that had come onto his face started to disappear. Very quickly, Chris started laughing himself, and it rubbed off on you, reigniting your laughter.

“Oh, my God”, Chris hugged your waist, and pressed a kiss on your temple. “I didn’t think we’d actually get caught. I didn’t even hear him coming…”

“What do you mean you didn’t think we’d get caught?” you chuckled, wiping the tears that had collected in your eyes before you pressed a kiss of your own on his temple. “Of course we were bound to get caught, baby, we’re literally right here instead of our room”.

“I know, I know… But I just… I don’t want anyone to see you”, Chris pouted, and you pushed his fringe away from his forehead so you could place a kiss right in the middle. 

“So, you don’t mind them hearing me, but you do mind them seeing me?”

“Precisely”, Chris chuckled, pecking your lips.

Unsurprisingly, Chris was still very much inside you, still hard–although probably not as hard as he could be. It amused you, truly.

As half animals, most pack members were really used to situations like these. Nudity and sex weren’t really something to shy away from, but everyone tried to keep certain things private whenever possible, mostly to avoid teasing…

“You do know they’re gonna be insufferable for a while now, right?” You combed your fingers through his hair, until you reached the back of his head where you could take a handful and pull him close to you for a kiss.

Chris hummed, caressing your thighs as you kissed.

“They will be, God… I’m so not looking forward to that”, he chuckled, pulling back a bit to brush the tip of his nose against yours. “Mood ruined?”

You shook your head, emphasising your words with a voluntary clench of your inner walls that had him biting his bottom lip.

“Well, if that’s the case… Come here”.

Chris finally pulled out, and he helped you to your feet. Your legs were a bit wobbly, but he was making sure to keep you steady by holding your waist. 

“I don’t think they’ll bother us now”, Chris cradled your face in his hands, and kissed you deeply, further feeding the butterflies in your belly. “Turn around, pretty”.

So you did. With your hands firm on the brick counter, your boyfriend stepped close to you, taking a hold of the hem of your dress to get it out of the way before he plunged himself right back in. You sighed, baring your neck further so Chris could have easier access to your neck when he pressed his chest to your back.

He kissed and sucked your skin, all as his hand made its way towards your front, and under your dress to find your clit. Sparks of pleasure immediately coursed through your body when he started to rub precise circles on the sensitive nub, right as he resumed his hips’ motions.

“C’mon, baby. Let’s finish what we started, hm?”

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

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[elainsgirl]

hi— so, why is it that gwynriels want elain to leave the night court? she loves it there, she’s found a home, a place for herself, she’s surrounded by people who love her, she has a strong support system— do they really think she’s going to up and leave them like that? all because of “she likes flowers so she belongs in spring” or “she looked bad in black” or “her and lucien find a home for themselves with the band of exiles” or worse “lucien becomes the high lord of the day court and elain? elains there too.”— as if she’s supposed to just sit around and do nothing? in her OWN book? hello? do they not hear themselves? they think we don’t understand elain at all, but we do. they clearly don’t, otherwise i think they wouldn’t be saying all these things about her.

also— that one GA who said elain is irrelevant? yeah, TO YOU. you don’t like her, you claim that nesta’s story isn’t finished— and what would her story entail? another smutfest and more training, more of your deluded ship, more “spark in chest”? please.

i’m sorry😭😭 i’m just— i’m so upset that they come into your inbox and say these kinds of things— i don’t know how you have the patience but however you do it, you handle it with so much grace. and absolute truth. which i love. sending love and hugs!! and hoping we get the elriel book announcement soon!! 🥰❤️🌸🦇

Because if Elain doesn’t leave the night court, a gwynriel/elucien romance can’t happen.

Azriel has been near his mate most days for months YET he still wants another woman. He wants to beg on his knees for a taste of her. He’s consumed by thoughts of her whilst with his “mate”? He wouldn’t go as far as to call her a friend. Thats pretty embarrassing for gwynriels therefore they need Elain out of the picture so Az can only have one straight single woman in his line of sights - Gwyn. Once Elain leaves, will he be able to notice anyone else.

as for elucien, Lucien and the NC don’t mix. Its clear that the NC is not where his story lies therefore how can elucien happen if Elain is in that court? They can’t. Hence why Elain needs to leave her friends, job and comfort behind to run around Lucien whilst he finds a place to call home. Is it Spring? Day? The human lands? No one knows including eluciens, they just gamble on where he’s staying.

So because of that, antis have to pretend they truly “care” about Elain and know she’s only calling the court her home to please others, secretly hates the NC, is depressed there and needs to go somewhere else bcs “sunlight” and how bad she looks in black, etc despite the fact none of that is supported by canon.

Regardless, even then. If This was some huge hint Elain doesn’t belong to NC - Az himself has said he doesn’t know where he belongs. Elain leaving doesn’t even end the possibility of elriel, it can just be Elain and Az finding a home together.

Calling Elain irrelevant just goes to show whose read the books properly and who haven’t. Peope need to get over the idea of Nesta getting another book, she was only ever going to have one. And honestly, part of me thinks the reason they want another Nesta book is they know how undeveloped gwynriel and gwyn is therefore want another book to flesh them out. Which isnt going to happen, its Elains turn to shine now and give us her story bringing a much needed, fresh perspective to the series.

Yes! Hopefully an announcement comes this month, this fandom could do with it.

[separatist-apologist]

Is it bad if I say I might not read the next books. Even if it is Elucien, and they might be my only exception. Like yesterday I was reading an Azris fic and, I just realized how much better those two characters would be together and knowing SJM would never do it I became so over canon.

And then I started thinking about all SJM’s mishaps and I was like damnn I don’t know if I even care to read the next books.  I don’t want to spoil the memory of fanon ACOTAR by reading it.

I know she is trying as a writer but I am just getting exhausted with her plot points and it’s also another reason why I choose not to read CC and no one will ever make me do it.

When I was reading the pregnancy plot I remember rolling my eyes and being like SJM don’t do it and she did it.

I am done with SJM I think. Like I said, except the elucien book is really good, and I hear about it every where like the way MAF was, I won’t bother and that might be a stretch. And people might flake me for this but honestly I don’t care it’s a personal preference thing. If you still like the books that’s fine.

Oof

I agree with you anon. I want to see the conclusion of this series but I think for me, I would not have liked these books if I'd read them after something different. I think a lot of it is like, an introduction to these sort of stories and how fun and easy it is to read. I didn't really enjoy TOG and I don't really understand why everyone hypes it up as her best story- it's not even readable until book 3, regardless of WHEN she started writing it. And CC is overly bloated and just filled with all her worst qualities as a writer. I was moderately enjoying the mystery of book 1 CC until what, 600 pages in, the whole thing is solved with "Bryce knew all along and already saved the boy" like okay. Thanks for wasting my time.

As far as ACOTAR, I loved the first three books and I was really excited for ACOSF because I enjoyed Nesta a lot. She's so different from other heroines and then we got...all...that. It felt like everyone was punishing Nesta for not being Feyre- including SJM. The baby plot also genuinely bothers me so much because Rhys harps on and on about telling Feyre the truth and things being her choice until its time to REALLY put that into practice, and suddenly he's all the things he claims to hate. Like when he says that sometimes you can love someone too much, as a criticism of Tamlin? HELLO?

I know she needed to take Feyre out of the plot to push Nesta forward but just being pregnant should have been enough. The book could have focused more time on Feyre and Nesta and Elain hashing their shit out than all the back and forth with Cassian and Eris and how Eris was hurting Cassian's feelings for being...Eris. I don't know this for sure, but I'd bet Eris could more talking/page time than Elain did in NESTAS book, where her whole arc across the main trilogy is protecting Elain.

I think SJM is an entertaining writer- I'm not going to sit here and pretend she's the worst thing to happen to literature when those ladies who wrote the Zodiac Academy are right there, but she's inconsistent and leaves the rest of us to kind of piece it all together. Like, you can find a million theories we treat as canon on why Rhys/Feyre did this why Nesta said that, who was doing the domestic chores in the Archeron house or what Azriels deal with Mor is. And that's just the interpersonal character drama. I've read fics that flesh out her magic system and world so well and it'll remind me that like, oh shit she didn't tell us ANY of this.

I'm still going to read it- sunken cost fallacy. I've spent so much time here, and I love it even if I'm just whatever about the author. I don't think I could be convinced to pick up a new series of hers based on name recognition alone, though.

[samobservessonic]

Incredibly excited for this issue! The title “Attack on the Death Egg” already promises to be big stakes. Not only that, but we have Nigel Kitching back on writing and Ferran Rodriguez doing a stellar job on the art! I liked the art in this issue so much that I looked ahead to see how much more Rodriguez contributes to the series and sadly he only does a handful of issues here and there, so let’s enjoy him while he’s here

This is also the establishing of a huge plot-point in StC - Sonic's base being the previous headquarters of one Dr. Kintobor and the hologram of the computer there looking like how the kindly doctor used to look, even if its appearance in this issue does get retconned later. This concept continued to exist by the time I started reading the comic in issue 80 and I did always wonder why the Kintobor computer looked like that. Turns out the answer was “just because”. From a real-world perspective, I suppose it is a way to keep the whole concept of Kintobor in the eyes of the readers, who might not be familiar with Robotnik’s backstory from this lore

The Death Egg is also still around and Sonic’s looking rather casual about it being about to crash in the Emerald Hill Zone. Also, yes, they’ve moved on from the Green Hill Zone and locations in Sonic 1 to the Emerald Hill Zone, which remains their base of operations for the rest of the series. Letting my Sonic 2 bias show here and saying I just think the Emerald Hill Zone is cooler anyway, so no complaints there

After the disappointment of the non-Labyrinth Zone in the last issue, it’s great to see Sonic categorically being in Wing Fortress and fighting badniks from the game. I’m not going to post the whole sequence, but we see Tails flying the Tornado, the laser-beam boss from Wing Fortress and lots of easter eggs. It really felt like the team working on this issue cared about the games and that makes all the difference when it comes to making this comic resonate with the target audience

The duo hitch a ride into space, where they board the Death Egg and try to figure out a plan to stop it from crashing. At this point, we also get another big cameo…

…Silver Sonic! Or whatever the franchise is calling Silver Sonic these days! It doesn’t take long for Sonic to beat his robot double, but they do mention that Sonic thought he took him down “the last time he was here”, with a footnote telling readers to check out Sonic 2. For the most part, StC does adapt the later games into comic versions, but it looks like for Sonic 1 & 2, those games just happened prior to the events of the comic and exist to give early StC its setting

As the Death Egg continues to crash, Sonic alters its course away from Emerald Hill and tells Tails to take the only escape pod. We then get this sequence I really like of Tails mourning Sonic, only for Sonic to appear and be like “I’m too cool to die”. Idk I just really like how Sonic’s personality comes across here? He’s cool and arrogant, but he’s still a hero - he just wants the celebration that comes along with his good deeds

Of course, I’m sure I don’t need to point out that, while the Death Egg crashing into the ocean was a creative way to deal with that plot at the time, it will create plot-holes later on, when Sonic 3 shows that it actually crashes on the Floating Island. I honestly don’t know if StC will address this or if they’ll just retcon this story, but regardless, I had fun and I’d say that the art in this issue has been my favourite so far

No clear teaser about what’s coming in the next issue, so that’ll be a nice surprise as well

[cocogrrrl]

rendezvous

Chapter 1: Tale of Two—The Black Stones

an introduction to one of our two leads, yn.

wc: 716 no cws kindly read the things to note about this series first here in the masterlist if you haven't yet!

an: the first two chapters are pretty rough but it gets better i think

To Opial, for being my best beta reader and sudden motivation. To Cadence and Muffy, for putting up with my shenanigans. This is by no means a sort of masterpiece at all, but you three know how much this means to me. <3

You lived, breathed, and wanted him. He’s everything you were sure you hated, and yet, here he is, lying in your bed. Fuck, were you rethinking your life choices.

Whoops! We started a tad bit too deep in the story. Let’s start off with introductions first, alright? It’s the more formal thing to do anyway.

“So, I was totally, like, ‘Fuck off. I’m going to castrate you if you come two steps closer to me.’ Cool, right?” You said to your best friends—Bebe Stevens and Red McArthur, absolutely wasted. You were recounting the events of the other day, a regular Tuesday.

Okay, not quite the most formal introduction, but yes. This is you, YN LN.

“So let me get this straight,” Red stopped you. “You were mugging this guy, and then he seemed like he was about to jump you, so you pulled a knife out and threatened to castrate this guy…?”

“Mhm!” You nodded.

“That seems like bullshit, YN.” Bebe rolled her eyes. “You’d pull out a gun, not a knife.”

“Okay, okay,” you sighed. “Maybe I am bedazzling my story a little, but I totally got that guy. Promise.”

“Totally.” Red clicked her tongue as she replied sarcastically.

Okay, who exactly were you three? You and your small gang are the Black Stones—probably the most notorious crew in the town of South Park.

How long have you been doing crime? A few years. What crimes were you known for? A lot, but you guys were most known for your shark loaning business with incredibly high interest and incredibly harsh punishments if the money wasn’t returned. Besides that, you and your friends also committed robberies, vandalism, and possession of copious amounts of illegal substances. Nothing too out of the blue, but definitely serious enough to get the attention of the police here. 

How did you get away? You three are just skilled enough to get away with everything, of course.

Also, because the police force here is honestly fucking shit. They work inconsequentially—not caring if justice is served or not. Innocent until proven guilty? More like innocent regardless of the situation. 

Whatever, at least you were pretty much always off the hook—even within their line of sight, right? You had free reign to do whatever you pleased, and nothing and no one was going to stop you.

Currently, a few months later after the first memory shown earlier, you’re in your usual hangout spot with the girls—The Zones, a local bar that was tasteful enough for your styles yet dingy enough for your comfort. Look, despite the fact you three made big bucks off of peoples’ debts, it did not change the fact that you guys would rather take the cheaper drinks. They weren’t as good as the more pricey stuff, but at the end of the day, you’re just finding a way to loosen up. 

“Oh, my gosh, Bebe.” You leaned into her, reaching to whisper in her ear. “I’m sooooo bored. We should get out of here.”

“That’s like the eighth time you’ve said that tonight, YN,” Red spoke up. Perhaps you weren’t too quiet at all. “We still got that person we need tending to in a bit. We’re just killing some time.”

“Can’t we kill time somewhere else?” You groaned, smacking your head against the counter.

“Honestly, YN’s right.” Bebe nodded, holding your body up since you seemed so restless that you didn’t even want to move from your hunched-over position. “I don’t wanna get bored of this place.”

Red sighed, looking over the two of you. “I guess you two do make a point.” She said, collecting her things as she got up for her seat. “Let’s go?” 

You and Bebe followed suit, grabbing your bags and other items as you tidied yourselves up.

You were about to leave, your body was ready to do so, and your mind was set on the task. You would’ve made your way out already if it weren’t for one thing: a loud ‘bang!’ by the entrance that caught your attention.

next chapter.

[shipsandlattes]

So I know everyone has already dissected this scene to its core, but it’s taken me a good 48 hours to digest this and I just needed to get it out.

I’m an aspiring actor, I’ve been training for a long time, with a lot of amazing teachers. I’ve watched a lot of shows and shipped a lot of couples. Some of them beautiful and canon, others, well, let’s just say waiting 22 years and counting for acknowledgement, closure, anything, it’s a damn challenge. I’ve seen a hell of a lot of will-they-wont-they’s, baiting, purposeful ignorance, deliberate fake outs, zero explanations, storylines that basically caused canon disintegration, the works.

In saying that, Dean and Cas were right up there on the list with the other “impossibles” because honestly, I didn’t think the writers would have the guts to do it, but I am so f*cking proud they did. It’s safe to say I’ve watched the scene a good hundred+ times already. 

I’ve seen a lot of “controversy” around Dean’s reaction/Jensen’s acting choices and whether or not Dean reciprocates Cas’ feelings, and obviously, I needed to add my own views to the mix.

Just work with me for a minute here.

Dean Winchester is an emotionally repressed trainwreck, and ironically enough, the one that is so full of emotion it hurts to watch. When Cas first starts his speech, he’s confused, really confused because why on earth would Cas start off on a rant now? Billie’s waiting to kill them, he just said he knew something that was more powerful than she was, something that could save them. That’s where he thought this speech was going.

The confusion turns to realisation that it’s a goodbye when Cas starts telling him how incredible he is, how his entire essence is love. Go back and watch the scene again, when Cas says “you’re the most caring man on Earth”, you physically see Dean look down, his eyes searching, he’s actively trying to make sense of what’s happening, he knows what’s coming and you can see him coming to terms with the shock of the words being said to him. He then looks directly at Cas. That look, that was pure shock.

Also, notice how he doesn’t stop Cas from talking? He doesn’t interject, make a joke, doesn’t talk about how there is no time for this now, they’ve got to at least try and stop Billie. He. says. nothing. He listens, he listens like I’ve never seen Dean listen before. Because it’s sinking in now.

When Cas really starts crying, when he says “you changed me, Dean”, you can actually see the pain in Dean’s eyes. He’s no longer in control of his emotions, he’s crying too. He’s never seen Cas like this, so raw, and vulnerable and human. This is the hardest, most emotional conversation they’ve both ever had. They are talking about the one thing that everybody knows, but is never addressed. When it wasn’t talked about, they could deny it, live in the lie. Once it’s said aloud, it’s real and they can’t turn back.

This above series of interactions is the part that kills me the most. The moment Cas says “because it is”, that’s the exact moment of realisation. Look at that last GIF, really look. He’s just worked it out, that he is Cas’ true happiness. He knows what’s coming before Cas even says it. Go back and watch the scene again, they pulled that off so well, the way the music swells at this exact moment. Jensen is giving us everything here, you can see what’s happening in his head - he is Cas’ happiness. He is the one thing on Earth Cas wants and thinks he can’t have. He is the reason Cas is about to die. He knows what Cas is about to say and he’s not sure he’s ready to hear it, not now, not like this. It’s almost a silent plea not to say it, because he knows. Of course he knows. It’s like he can’t quite believe Cas is really, after all this time, finally going to say it.

And because obviously Jensen decided that that wasn’t enough to break us, the loaded reaction when Cas says “I love you” has me nothing but convinced that it’s reciprocated. Because Dean knows. He’s always known. Those tears, that head tilt, that gulp. He’s so genuinely confused that they’re really having this conversation. It’s like he can’t quite believe that this is the reality before him because he’s been living in that denial, in that self-loathing and unlovable layer he believes to be true. He’s been under the ‘what if... but it could never be’ umbrella for so long. 

What also makes this real is that there isn’t anyone else around this time. When “I love you’s” have been said before, they have always been able to deflect it, with other people or other words. Now it’s just the two of them. No deflecting, no running away. Dean is forced to hear it, to absorb it, to realise it’s for nobody else but him.

Now, I don’t know if you guys felt this, but when Dean says “Don’t do this, Cas”, he wasn’t just referring to Cas sacrificing himself to the Empty, he’s telling Cas that he can’t just say this, not now, knowing he’s going to die, knowing that Dean won’t get a chance to think, to process, to say what he needs too. I keep staring at that GIF above, Dean is breaking down, I’m almost convinced that Jensen was using an “I love you too, please just stop this” inner monologue for this bit. Look at the way he’s looking at Cas before he realises the Empty has started materialising and turns around. That’s a look of pure heartbreak. Trust me when I tell you, it’s really hard to keep those inner thoughts inside if you’re so in the moment - actually, don’t just take my word for it, read any acting book, ask any actor, it’s so hard to keep that in and sometimes you don’t, and sometimes you do - it’s in both the resistance and the letting go that the gold happens. This my friends, is gold. 

Did anyone else hear “Cas, I-”, well, regardless of whether or not it was an “I” or a very sharp breath, the outcome is the same. Dean’s gone into immediate panic mode. The Empty at one end and Billie at the other, and all poor Dean wants to do is gather his thoughts on not what to say but how to say it. I don’t think he comprehended just how little time he had, he was so focused on what was being said that the reality of the situation caught him completely off guard.

Also, I know this post was about dissecting Dean’s reaction, but can we sidebar a minute to talk about Cas as he pushes Dean out of the way? He’s sobbing, he’s fully crying. That hit me really hard, I’ve never seen Cas cry like that, I’ve never seen Misha get to play that level of emotion before and it was the most heartbreaking thing to watch since The Doctor and Rose and Buffy and Spike, to which by the way, I find many parallels between those couples and this scene.

Speaking of crying, that brings me to this: Dean slumped on the floor, ignoring a call from Sam, sobbing his heart out knowing he’s lost everything. Dean-I’m-emotionally-unavailable-Winchester is sobbing. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t recall ever seeing Dean cry like this before either, the sobbing was so evident and piercing in that silence. The look around the room, the burying of his head in his hands, that is a classic writers romantic love trope if I’ve ever seen it, they really pulled out all the stops with this one.

So, to summarise, I think Jensen’s choices and Dean’s reactions were absolutely and utterly perfect. They both did it so well that it didn’t break from character that these two emotionally distant and repressed men are in love and finally voicing it. Jensen barely said two words and still managed to cause mass coronary’s across the fandom. That my friends is what you call a brilliant actor. I bow down to the talents of these two amazing human beings.

Before I leave this novel, I have to say there are now a few things I’m going to need from the powers that be to not screw this up, help me manifest this:

1. Dean gets to reciprocate his feelings to Cas in person. So, I’m gonna need Cas back and a very emotional Dean.

2. Dean to be actively dealing with heartbreak in the next episode (unless they decided to bring Cas back that soon, which I wouldn’t put past them at this point).

3. Sam to confront Dean about his feelings for Cas, because out of everyone, he’d be the one to hit Dean with the truth of his fears. Sam knows. Sam is supportive. Sam sees it all.

4. I’m gonna need some physical affection, cause after 12 years of nonsense, we damn well deserve it. A hug, and not just any old reunion hug, a proper, this is different now hug. A kiss because hello, in love out loud now. Forehead touching, handholding, really gonna need the works here.

5. A happy ending for the two of them, one way or another. We’ve never had one, it’s time.

Okay, have at it now, let’s speak these into existence please.

Note: GIFs are not mine, I did not make them, credit to owners who I’m not sure of, but they’re beautiful, thanks for making them. EDIT: I’ve just been informed that these gorgeous gifs belong to @michaeldean​ and @inacatastrophicmind​! 

[lawonderlandwriter]

Controversial opinion, wishful thinking, blah blah blah, I know, I already know what many of you will say.

That being said, I am not at all convinced, with all the news about SNOW today, that the new series will be a “doubling down” on Jon killing Dany and will be “more justification” of what Jon did.

Kit could not even speak out loud about the scene and had to create a hand-signal with Emilia because he was so emotional about it, could only speak in whispers when talking about it in an interview with James Hibberd, it was THE scene that made him cry during the table read, and as far as I’ve seen in his interviews, he has still yet to watch the final season, it hurt him so much.

Regardless of all the things Kit said in “official interviews” about Jon killing Daenerys and Daenerys’s end, it never felt like a plot line Kit was comfortable with or personally endorsed. And with him being THE person behind the Jon Snow spin-off, I can’t see the new series being more of that. 

It’s like, if Emilia were to write a Daenerys spin-off, we’d all be behind that right, because we know how much she cares about Dany’s character?

And even though we all hate what Jon did in S8 and most of us count it rightfully as D&D fanfiction, the character Jon Snow in the hands of someone who cares about him as much as many of his fans.... doesn't feel so bad. 

Now knowing that Kit is the person behind SNOW, rather than just him signing on to something that was pitched to him by someone else... Idk, I guess I kind of trust Kit. At least I trust him more than I would trust anyone else writing a spin-off set after the events of S8. 

And for everyone saying he needs to just “move on” from it and let GOT die... well, WE didn't. We still write fan fiction all the time! We’re still wrapped up in this world and these characters too. We can’t just say Kit needs to move on when we’ve yet to do the same. When you love something this much, you don't want to move on, especially when the ending leaves you as broken as GOT left its fans and many of its actors - Kit included. Kit’s just got a whole hell of a lot more influence than we do and can actually make his fan fiction come to life, unlike us. 

So can we really blame him for wanting to give Jon a proper ending that will feel fulfilling? (Because I honestly can't see this being a multi-season thing. It’s got 10 episode mini-series written all over it). 

With Kit being as emotional as he was over what Jon did to Dany, and with Emilia being one of his best friends, I can’t see her even being mentioned in the new series out of respect for Emilia and Dany (unless, you know, they resurrect her which, with Kit creating this, I don't think we can entirely rule out). 

I am a Dany stan down to my core, and only in the later seasons started to appreciate Jon’s character, and then in S8 hated him for all the things he did and didn’t do. 

But I can’t help but feel this sense of optimism about SNOW now. I know it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. I may be entirely wrong here and have to eat my words if it goes to series. But for the moment, I don’t care. And if there is even a glimmer of hope that we get the retcon Season 9 we’ve all been fanficking in our heads the last three years where it was all a dream or Dany was mind-controlled or whatever, I’m gonna live in that while I can. 

People can be critical of it if they want. But for now, until I hear otherwise, I’m gonna support Kit. Because after all, he's just a fellow fan fiction writer. And we fanfic writers gotta support each other. 

[fadedneonzzz]

What do you think will happen to Cinder Fall at the end of the RWBY series?

Firstly, I think there’s a difference between what I think will happen and what I want to happen.

As for what I think will happen, I think there are 3 strong possibilities. 1 is the most predictable and boring option in my opinion, and that’s death. At this point in the story I don’t think any character needs the accolade of killing Cinder. I’ve seen people speculate that Salem will kill her, but unless she has a backup maiden on standby she’d be shooting herself in the foot. Even if Salem believed Cinder’s lie, I don’t think she really cares at the end of the day because she got two relics, which is more than she has ever gotten before (at least I assume that’s the case). I don’t really see any of the heroes benefiting either because they’ve developed nicely over time without Cinder being there. I fully accept that Cinder could very well die before the series ends, however the problem I have with Cinder Death theories is that people are more interested in who will kill her rather than them speculating on how Cinder’s story will end. They’ve made it clear that Cinder’s character arc is about her, it’s not about Ruby, Jaune, Salem, Emerald or Mercury, she’s basically the villain protagonist. It shouldn’t be about who’s character will get advanced, it should be about Cinder’s story coming to an end.

Another strong possibility, in my opinion is redemption. Now regardless of how you or anyone else feels about Cinder redemption, just know that there’s no such thing as “this character doesn’t deserve redemption”. There’s no arbitrary line that makes a character irredeemable, at the end of the day these characters are fictional and the writers can do whatever they’d like with a character (within reason of course). That being said, I think there’s a case to make for Cinder redemption, there’s plenty of room for her to grow later on in the series. Now I see why people think redemption is out of the question, but there really hasn’t been any opportunities for Cinder to actually reflect on everything she has done. There’s been nothing to convince her that she’s on the wrong path, and none of the heroes have tried getting through to her. She isn’t a dedicated follower of Salem, she’s only there to get power. Honestly, I think Cinder needs to be seen as a person who needs help than someone who needs to be killed. I also think she should be given the choice to reform, because it’s entirely possible she thinks she has no other choice but to be evil. It doesn’t help that she has a Grimm arm grafted to her that Salem has control over. Also keep in mind that redemption isn’t the same as forgiveness, RWBY and co. do not have to forgive Cinder. And I find it very hypocritical of people who want Neo and/or Mercury redemption, but somehow bar Cinder from redemption, either they’re all redeemable or none of them are. Especially since none of them have shown a shred of remorse for what they’ve done.

Last possibility, is independent Cinder. She doesn’t have to be good or evil, she could be whatever she wants. This would require her to remove the Grimm arm either by herself or with Ruby’s help. I think this has an equal chance of happening because while Cinder is far from a good person, she’s not a nihilist who wants to destroy the world. Think of it like a 3rd faction, similar to Raven and her tribe.

In conclusion, I don’t have just one idea of how Cinder’s story will end. She could survive the series, or she could die, it’s hard to tell at this point. And maybe I read too deep into Cinder’s character than the writers intended, but I feel like they’re definitely going somewhere with her character. They invested so much time and effort into her, that I feel it’s leading to some kind of grand conclusion. I just think death is the most boring, uninteresting, and kind of depressing for her story to end like that. Yes you can argue Penny and Pyrrha had tragic endings, but it wasn’t like their sacrifice was for nothing. I think if Cinder does turn good, she should spend the remainder of her life atoning for what she has done, but she should be free to do so of her own volition. I don’t think she should be forced to do it, but she uses her newfound freedom for good purposes.

(Sorry for the long winded answer lol)

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Finale | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: It’s Halloween, and there are a lot of things on Spencer’s mind.

A/N: Here it is, everyone: the end of the story. Thank you so much to everyone who’s read this far. I greatly appreciate all of you, and I hope you enjoy it!   Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Penetrative sex, light D/s, mostly fluff! Word Count: 7.5k

—————————————————

Autumn has widely been considered the season of change. It is an understandable characterization; from the shifting hues of the leaves to the wildly fluctuating temperatures, few things stayed consistent in the fall. Perhaps that’s why someone who loathes change, someone like me, finds the season so thrilling.

It’s like the Earth and the Sun made a pact to make changes more predictable in their own unique, chaotic way. The breeze becomes biting and the days become shorter, but for these downfalls, we are granted a beauty and calmness that can’t be rivaled by any other season.

But she wasn’t a season, and when it came to my attention and appreciation, there were few choices that were easier to make.

“Spencer. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

(Y/n)’s face was half covered by the cup she held tightly with both hands, but I could picture the hidden expression perfectly, regardless.

“What? We don’t have to agree on everything.”

The truce was received poorly, her response a heavy scoff and a shake of her head. I tried to follow along with her suddenly heated words but couldn’t contain the stars in my eyes that often accompanied my daydreams. If she did notice, she stubbornly ignored the adoration to continue, “I understand you’re a genius or whatever, but I think your opinions on cider and cocoa are... wrong. They are wrong.”

It was my turn to feign displeasure (I hoped hers wasn’t real, anyway), clutching tighter to my own drink that I found myself defending on a park bench with dozens of strangers as an audience.

“An opinion can’t be wrong!” I chirped, only hating the way my voice jumped a little bit. After all, it was hard to hate it when it made her giggle. But despite how much sweeter the liquid seemed when I drank it in the presence of her smile, I also knew that she wouldn’t appreciate my immediate agreement. So, I pushed back just a little, “It can be misguided or ignorant but not outright wrong.”

“Unless it’s yours, on this topic,” she shot back without hesitation.

I tried to flash her a pout, hoping that maybe it would work for me like it did for her. It did not. Her eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped open with another laugh, and I decided that I preferred that outcome, anyway. The longer my bottom lip stuck out, the wider her smile got. I waited to stop until her eyes closed and turned away, just long enough for me to let the full force of my affection show before she noticed.

She saw it, anyway, in the form of a similar smile spread over my face when I softly admitted, “Fine. You’re right.”

“Oh, I know.”

Her tongue peeked between her lips, and I found myself thinking less of cider and cocoa and more about how unbelievably lucky I was to find someone that I never felt the need to prove anything to. A person that didn’t care if I held all the answers.

I might’ve continued down that sappy train of thought, but it was hard to do while she had hoisted herself halfway over the table to try and grab hold of my cup right as I went to drink from it. Of course, she had failed to take into account just how big the table was, and just how close I was willing to come to falling before I let her drink from my cup right after she’d criticized my preference of fall flavors.

For a second, I really thought she might climb onto the table to win, but the judgmental looks from the parents in the park must have beaten her desire to win. As forlorn as humanly possible, she fell back into her seat with a loud “Hmph!” which really only managed to elicit an equally immature giggle from me.

“Shut up,” she laughed before shoving my paper plate further into my chest, “And eat your stupid pie.”

All I could think as she grabbed my fork and stabbed the middle of the piece to try to lift the entire thing at once, was that I was right about one thing: Autumn, in all its vitality and beauty, could still never compare to her.

That thought persisted through the pumpkin patch, growing in intensity as she skipped through the vine-laden path like a regular fall fairy. It was much easier to get lost in her there, crouched and inspecting foliage. Her arguments regarding gourds were much less spirited, with her watching me wide-eyed and curious as I explained the stages of pumpkin growth and all the different uses for the fruit.

I still let her make the final choices, opting to analyze her selections and tease her for them later, instead. That was the plan, anyway, to continue the competitiveness lest she gets bored with me before the day was over. When she walked past me holding open the passenger side door, I thought it might’ve already happened.

But then she just placed the pumpkin into my hands so she could open the back door. Before I could even move, she carefully removed it from my arms again and placed it in the seat.

“What are you doing?” I said through a very amused chuckle.

She was decidedly not entertained by my confusion, stopping to turn to me with a bored, frustrated expression. “I’m buckling him in,” she explained slowly, like I might need the help. Then, to add insult to silly injury, she added, “Duh.”

I was too distracted by the details to tackle the absurdity of it all.

“Him? It’s a boy pumpkin?”

“Obviously. Look at him,” she snorted, finally clicking the seatbelt in before tenderly petting the top of the lucky little gourd. Once she was convinced it would be as safe as she could make it, she allowed me to begin to escort her into her proper seat.

“You know it’s safer on the floor, right?” I asked before she’d slipped past me. I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from the car so I could enjoy the warmth of her before it was replaced with the dry air of the engine.

“How dare you,” she balked with an open mouth that was just begging to be kissed. By the time I got close enough to try, though, her hand fervently shoved my cheek away. I tried to laugh, but she used the same hand to cover the noise, trying and failing to convince me she was being serious.

“Why don’t you just hold him?” I mumbled against her palm.

That was enough for her to abandon my embrace altogether. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she pried my arms off of her and finally made her way to my passenger seat. I didn’t fight her too hard, even taking the time to shut her door like my mother always insisted.

The mercy was not returned, with her eyes narrowed into a playful disbelieving glare that I hadn’t seen in some time. My mind was brought back to the first time she ever let me know she was jealous, bickering over blondes and preferences while she sat in the very same place. And, just as before, she was still wearing the same raggedy old sweatshirt of mine.

“If this is any indication of how you’ll be with a human baby, I have dramatically overestimated your competence,” she droned, obviously unaffected by the stars that appeared in my eyes every time I looked at her.

“The one and only time you’ll ever be able to say those words. I hope you enjoyed it,” I joked. A funny enough joke that she couldn’t help but smile through her facade.

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “I did.”

The day could have ended there, and it would have been enough. Honestly, I couldn’t think of a single thing that wouldn’t be better with her there. In a way, I think we were trying to prolong the high of ‘hooky,’ finding even the faintest interest in an activity as enough of an excuse for a detour.

… Which was probably how we found ourselves in our third park of the day. After all, I loved any autumnal vision, so how could I decline an opportunity to let them serve as a backdrop for watching her? And that was an accurate description of how I spent the day. It might sound boring, and if it were anyone else, it probably would have been. But no matter how often I saw her, I found myself learning new things about her every single time. Each freckle and scar became a part of the high-definition collection of memories that I would never let myself forget. The most beautiful images that kept me sane in the face of evil and filth.

“Do you see that?”

For a moment, I thought she might have read my mind. But then I realized that her eyes were still fixed forward, stuck on the horizon ahead of us.

“See what?”

“That,” she pointed, “Right there.”

My eyes followed the line, finding nothing but an area of carefully manicured, yellow grass and trees already set to rest for the season. It must have been clear to her that I was lost, because her pointing became more animated and her voice rose as she shouted, “Right there!”

“The giant pile of leaves?”

“Uh-huh.”

Then, in all of my obliviousness, I just sort of stared. Even when her hand grew tighter around mine and her feet started to move faster, I didn’t put two and two together until it was too late.

“What about— No! (Y/n)!” I shouted, cutting off my own train of thought and only barely letting go of her in time to watch her jump straight into the collection of fallen foliage that some poor landscaper had obviously worked hard to gather.

I have to believe that even if that unlucky, underappreciated individual saw what she’d done to their hours of work, that they would forgive her. It was hard to feel anything but joy at the sounds that came from the pile. Yet I approached her cautiously, with both hands in my pockets to avoid the urge to throw myself into danger with her.

“You’re a terror,” I said, settling for a crouched position in front of her. Still able to see her but far enough from her grasp that she had to crawl through a wall of leaves to come nose to nose with me. “This is literally the scariest thing you’ve done all season.”

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” she purred.

As enticing as the offer was, my mind was too preoccupied with statistics of spider and snake bites, not to mention the possibility of ticks still scouring the landscape for any last second hosts. The answer was easy.

“Absolutely not.”

With another exhale of pure displeasure, she threw her body back into the leaves, burying herself into a mess of yellows and reds that somehow only made her look even more beautiful. The chaotic scene matched her energy well, and the harm she was doing was minimal considering I was absolutely going to search every inch of skin for any marks later.

The only thing that was more appealing to me than watching her make an absolute fool out of herself in a pile of leaves was the intense urge to tease her about it. So, taking a regrettable seat on the grass, I sighed, “I think I’m going to have to arrest you for trespassing.”

There was a loud gasp from the center of the pile, followed by a scuffle of flailing limbs among the foliage.

“You don’t own this leaf pile! I do! I am queen of the leaf pile!” she screeched.

“Alright Princess,” I subtly corrected, “whatever you say.”

As promised, I didn’t put up a fight. Even when she finally got a hold of my hands and dragged me into the madness with her. I followed her no matter what nonsense she demanded, just as she had with me so many times. Granted, my desires weren’t nearly as dangerous or strange. They were pretty much just a collection of foreign films and reading that always lulled her to sleep.

But that day there was no sign of her energy waning. The early sun faded and we kept going. I’m not sure how, but she managed to enjoy herself in the D.C. landscape of bars and blaring car horns despite not being able to indulge in anything herself. Although she did half-heartedly attempt to trick me into buying her drinks in several different establishments, I think she was honestly proud that I avoided the drinks altogether. It was a nice reminder that sobriety could be something enjoyed between the two of us, regardless of the environment. However, we didn’t let that stop us from jumping into a crowd of very drunk women who had insisted we join their haunted tour of the city.

“Are you scared?” she whispered into my ear. The feeling of her warm breath against my skin caused a shiver to run down my spine, ruining any credibility I had in my response.

“No. Why would I be scared? It’s just history.”

“Are you sure?” she asked again.

“Yes!” I insisted with the worst possible timing. Because just as soon as the word had left my lips, I felt the distinct sensation of fingers running down my neck and arm opposite to her. I was so convinced that’s what it was that I even spun around with a yelp, crashing into at least three different people just to find a very startled woman with the worst hung scarf I’d ever seen.

(Y/n) had already put two and two together and was lost in an absolute fit of laughter. There were already tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she doubled over, barely able to stand through it all. Because there I was, her 31-year-old FBI agent boyfriend, screaming over a scarf.

“Laugh it up,” I droned. And she did. She kept laughing through any attempts at a response, and after the initial embarrassment wore off, I couldn’t help but join her.

“I hope you know you chose me. You chose this man!” I shouted, gesturing to the people around us who had already forgotten about our shenanigans, “And everyone knows it!”

“I’m sorry I can’t—” she wheezed, pausing to take a necessary breath that was all lost with another bunch of giggles “—You’re a fucking FBI Agent!”

“Well I can’t shoot a ghost, can I?” I mumbled through the hit to my ego. But any suffering was quickly dealt with as she threw dramatic arms around my waist, pulling me close and protecting me from any other errant scarves that might show up.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” I returned with a quick kiss on her forehead. And even if I implied otherwise, I think she knew that I was having just as good of a time as she was. In fact, it was one of the most relaxing days of my life, which was saying something, considering how much walking was involved.

But no matter how tired we both were, I still had one last place to take her. It took her a while to figure out why the route felt so familiar, but I wasn’t ready to ruin the surprise. I wanted to watch the realization dawn on her. She didn’t disappoint.

“The Mayflower?” she asked with a bit of a bashful laugh before looking up at me through narrowed eyes, “Feeling nostalgic, Dr. Reid?”

“Yeah, a little bit. Thought it was more romantic than the club,” I offered, trying to shrug off the nervous butterflies that burst through my stomach. “Not by much, mind you.”

Although I got the feeling that she didn’t know, or perhaps just didn’t remember, that wonderful night from almost a year ago was one of the most important days of my life. I knew it then, too. From the second I set my eyes on her from my pitiful place against the bar, I knew that she would ruin me.

“Nothing screams high end romance like an alley and a little light law breaking,” she sighed. I almost missed it, too preoccupied with the way her arm tugged me tighter so she could rest her head against my shoulder.

“I can take you home if you’d rather.”

“Hmmm. Depends,” she hummed. Then, turning her head up to me with that playful look that always turned me to putty in her hands, she purred, “How much longer do you think you can wait before you just have to have me?”

I sucked in a sharp, sarcastic breath, eyeing her just long enough for her to start to fume, I let out all the air with a defeated sigh, “I guess we’re staying.”

That serene sort of teasing continued past the reception desk and all the way up the elevator. If there were other people there, we didn’t bother noticing. We were too busy watching one another to even look away long enough to find our room. Doubling back through the dizzying hallways until we found the elusive number, we finally settled into the only vaguely familiar layout of beige and tan.

She was much quicker at it than I was. Before I’d even finished washing my hands and checking exposed skin for bugs that I was convinced had hitched a ride from the leaf pile, she was already stretched out on the bed in nothing but a tiny piece of lacy cotton and her favorite sweatshirt. The sight made me stop, lost for breath and logic of how I was lucky enough to be there with her again.

“See something you like, Dr. Reid?” she teased through giggles, no doubt recalling the same memory as me.

My answer didn’t need to be said, but I said it, anyway. She deserved to hear it.

“Yes.”

With arms outstretched, she sleepily begged, “Come here.”

But I couldn’t.

“Not yet… I just… I want to look at you like this a little bit longer.”

How could I move on from this moment, when it was the best I’d ever felt? So overwhelmingly safe and at home despite being in a strange, sterile room. I had no desire to move any inch of me if it meant that this image would persist for the rest of my days.

“You getting all romantic on me?”

“Always,” I chuckled. Her usual disgust for my sappy behavior didn’t show itself, overpowered by the gentle curve of her lips and hands that were becoming more and more insistent to be held. Eventually, I had to move, knowing that it was the only way to hold her.

My body reacted the way it always did when it found her. All of the tension dropped from tired shoulders, desperate to touch her more. To feel the imprint of her body pressed against mine, a mess of heat and need and love.

She was the one to kiss me first, and for a moment I let her do it without reciprocation. I wanted to feel how her touch became softer and shier as she realized what I was doing. That I was spending all of my energy memorizing the way her lips parted as she tried to hold back a giggle against my almost-still lips.

“What’s happening in that big genius brain of yours?” she murmured with eyes half open but still containing universes.

“I’m just thinking of all the things you’ve done to make me fall in love with you.”

I thanked all of the gods in every pantheon that made her too tired to tease. Instead, she just laughed, playing her part in bringing us back to that night we met.

“Like quote Picard?”

“We still haven’t watched Star Trek together,” I whined.

The sound must have stirred something new in her, because she rolled us over to take her seat on my lap. She hung over me, looking down at me, hopeless and breathless at the feel of her thighs under my hands. My heart started to race, but I didn’t know why.

It wasn’t until she spoke the words that were already running through my mind, “We’ve got time. Picard can wait.”

Everything about it was effortless. Our bodies had fallen together and mouths found each other exactly like every romance novel has ever tried to tackle the metaphor of gravity.

But if we were an orbit, it was not a binary like the traditional notion of two equal souls. Despite the nickname I’d chosen for her, nothing about her soul was small. And even though she burned bright, she wasn’t anything like the fiery combustion of a star.

She was a home. A thing so full of vitality and life that I would love to watch for whatever time I had left. I was just a moon, loyally following her and trying my best to shield her from whatever might try to harm her. To protect her when she needed rest and to lead the tides to kiss her when she wished. I would be her shadow, shining a light onto her even in the darkest time. All that I asked for in return was a spot beside her.

‘One day,’ she had said before, ‘if you will have me.’

But it was never a question. Not for me. And if she really needed me to answer it for her, I was happy to give her that. I hadn’t been waiting for even a year, but it felt like a lifetime.

“Yeah, he can,” I repeated, quiet and with such a heavy waver that I’m surprised she could understand the shifting inflections. Even if she didn’t, she knew that something had changed in those few seconds of silence.

“What’s up, Spencer?”

I didn’t know how to answer. How to explain what I was feeling. But I grabbed hold of one hand, clinging desperately to her and guiding her to the heart that felt dangerously light. The rapid pace of its beating still not enough to alert her of the true cacophony of my thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

The answer was yes. Because no matter how loud and chaotic the sounds inside my head were, they all lead me to the same conclusion.

“Picard can wait, and we have a lot of time,” I tried to explain through a dry throat that was only growing tighter with the unwieldy weight of the feeling.

“Yes…” she mumbled back, just as trepidatious and nervous as I was.  

Just like I was. Because we were. We were connected by some force, whatever you want to call it. Whether it was a chemical or psychological or heavenly connection, I didn’t care. I wanted her to know how I felt. To know that there was nothing that would ever tear me away from her.

“But I don’t… I don’t think I want to wait.”

After a couple more seconds of silence, she answered with a knowing stare, “… What?”

From my position underneath her, I was able to reach over just enough to grab my jacket. Of course, it helped that she moved with me, clearly curious and terrified of the possibilities. But a good kind of terror… I hoped.

My confidence grew as her legs gripped tighter around my hips and her hands shot up to cover her chest with balled fists pressed against one another. I heard the friction of her skin as her body started to shake in a different way, with an adrenaline that I hadn’t seen from her in even the most dangerous situations.

But when I pulled a small velvet box from the internal pocket, everything stopped. She became completely still. Her eyes were wide and frozen on the object in my hands, only to look away when she heard my voice.

“(Y/n).”

“Where did you get that?” she asked like she hadn’t just seen me pull it from my jacket. The same jacket that I wore every time that I was with her. The wool fabric that she’d swaddled herself in on a number of occasions, none the wiser of how much heavier it was for me when I wore it.

“I know this is really random, a-and to be fair, I wasn’t expecting it, either,” I said through the most awkward laughs I’d ever produced (which was saying something), “I mean, I knew I wanted to marry you, I’ve known that for quite some time, hence the ring.”

I paused, but got nothing in response. Nothing except her lips quivering from their parted position, and her nose twitching as she tried to settle on just one expression. But it didn’t matter how she contorted her face; they were all exactly as they should be. Because they were all her.

“But today, with you… I-I’ve never been that happy in my life. Jumping in leaves and fighting over fall flavors and I—“

Her eyes stopped bouncing, settling with my gaze and robbing my lungs of all air. She made up her mind, deciding to leave everything exactly as it was. The honest truth of the overwhelming storm of every emotion that had been experienced in the little time we had shared together.

The knowing that everything had happened exactly as it should have to bring us here.

“I love you so much,” I whispered, careful to make every word as genuine as they were, “And I know that we have all the time in the world left with one another… but I don’t want to wait any longer for you to be my wife.”

“Ask me,” she answered immediately and abruptly.  


“Okay,” I laughed, endlessly entertained by how she could sound so aggressive even when we were both at our most vulnerable, caught in the nexus of our love.

“Um… Will you… marry me?”

There was no hesitation. No worry, no fear, and no doubt.

“Yes, you stupid old man!” she outright screamed, throwing arms around me even when it meant we both slammed against pillows and the headboard. She didn’t stop squealing even when she kissed me, struggling to find more of me to hold onto.

After she decided that tugging on my hair was the best way to express her affection, I managed to break away just long enough to shout, “Wait! I have to put the ring on you!”

“Then put it on!” she yelled, thrusting her hand in front of my face and practically slapping me in the process. But none of the pain mattered. Nothing was even recognizable outside of the feeling of her sweaty, shaking palm resting against my fingers.

I noticed for the first time that I was also trembling. I took the time to focus, slipping the ring over her finger. But once it started to safely slide into place, my eyes returned to watch what I knew to be happy tears fall over her cheeks. I wiped them away, but they were replaced with the wetness from my face when she brought us together again with a long, gentle kiss.

A calmness came over the room like the feeling following a storm. A clean slate with soil enriched for growth. A hope for a future forever changed.

“What do we do now?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and holding tight to my hands.

The answer seemed clear enough.

“Whatever we want.”

 —————————————————

 Is this really happening?

I stared at the diamond shining back at me with a clarity that had to be a metaphor for my heart. In the vague reflection of yellow light and us, I felt a warmth that doesn’t normally accompany metal. My finger’s new companion felt so comfortable in its new resting place. A constant reminder of the man I called home.

Then I turned back to him, unsure how I was supposed to move on from this moment. I never wanted to leave, but I also needed to move. I compromised and settled with my face against his chest, listening to the heartbeat he’d just dedicated to me. In that peaceful quiet, I heard him speak so softly I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it.

But I did.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said with fingers dancing through the ends of my hair, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

And for once, the thought didn’t feel like a burden. In fact, it felt like freedom. I was finally free to be who I was without worry that I would be alone. Without worrying that I would be too much or too little to please him.

I was enough.

Enough.

“I love you,” I said, tasting salt from tears I hadn’t even noticed were falling.

Curiously, and in a rare role switch, Spencer was the one who took a blatantly affectionate display and turned it into something else. Pulling me away from his chest, he dragged me up until he could drag his lips over my jaw.

“Don’t cry, little girl,” he cooed with what I could only imagine was a wicked grin, “I haven’t given you a reason to yet.”

Something about that gruff rumble in his throat caused my skin to ripple with goosebumps. Every inch of me burned with flames that could only be put out by his touch. I chased after his lips with my own, but he was insistent on trailing down my throat. He knew I would be powerless to him. I wouldn’t be able to argue when my hands were knotted in his hair and my hips were already rocking helplessly against his erection.

“I want you to fuck me,” I seethed. My blood was boiling from the heat I felt within, and before he could even answer I was already working at the buttons on his shirt.

“Oh? You don’t want me to make love to you?” Spencer laughed. As if that had ever been our style.

“No, I want you to take what’s yours.”

He responded to the demand by pushing me from my seat, forcing me onto my back on the other end of the bed. I wasn’t going to complain, either. The new position allowed me access to his belt, which I unbuckled before he even had time to laugh.  

“Are you really challenging me right now, little girl?”

But despite the taunt, he did nothing to stop me. His hands were also busy removing my clothes. And just like before, our nakedness was reciprocated. With each lost layer, I should have felt lighter, but I didn’t. I felt so powerful, so aware of how our bare bodies twined together.

“Here, of all places? Do you remember what I did to you that night?”

How could I ever forget?

“I’m not the same girl you had in your bed then,” I purred. We both knew it was true, although not in the way I was implying.

Because Spencer had changed me. Irrevocably. He taught me so much — not just about physics, literature, or criminology, either. He taught me about kindness, softness, and vulnerability. He taught me how to trust that someone could hold me without the intention of letting me go. More than anything, he taught me that I didn’t have to learn these things alone. Even the smartest man I’d ever met needed help with them sometimes.

Then again, something told me that Spencer wasn’t in a very humble mood. Perhaps it was the fact he’d pinned me down again, with his hands clumsily gripping hard enough to leave crescent moons in my forearms.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he growled with a small, chaste kiss, “You’re still just a fucking brat.”

I wasn’t feeling bratty then, though. Especially not as I felt the head of his cock pressed against me, just hard enough to feel the resistance of my body. He waited there, no doubt taking pleasure in the way my whole body squirmed underneath him. My hips bucked, but he managed to keep a cruelly steady distance.

“You’re so precious when you’re needy,” he mumbled. And although I stubbornly avoided looking him in the eyes out of protest, he forced my face towards him again, anyway. “Go on. Say please.”

“Fuck off,” I whined through a prominent pout that did me no favors.

“Say it.”

“Please!”

I managed to make eye contact, but it was fleeting. As soon as he thrust forward into me, my back arched and I lost myself in the pillows. My hands found him, though, leaving angry red welts over heated skin. If Spencer was at all affected by the pain, he made no showing of it. His pace continued, steadily forcing our bodies together until I trembled in his hands.

He would hold me there, at my limit but not pleading for him to do anything different. With tender hands, he would fuck me until I swore bruises would follow. But I never felt unsafe; I felt cared for and cherished in a way I’d never known. I trusted him to know my limits better than myself.

I trusted him with all of me because I had already seen that when given the chance, he would do whatever he could to protect me.

The love I felt must have shone through my eyes because his hips got slower, drawing out each movement. My hips rose in tandem with his, allowing me to feel every inch of him inside of me.

“This body belongs to me now and forever,” he whispered.

It always has.

“You belong to me.”

And I felt it. The undeniable string of fate that tied us to each other. I could feel his every emotion as his fingers brushed over my throat. I melted under his touch, completely consumed by the love he felt for me. The kind of love that people spent their whole lives searching for only to come up empty. That powerful thing that drove gods to war and men to madness.

The only feeling that could tear down every wall that had been carefully crafted to protect myself. Because I didn’t need them anymore. Spencer’s arms would take their place, holding me through the storms that might follow the same way he had carried me through the ones that led us here.

“Yes,” I breathed, “I’m yours.”

For forever and whatever comes after.

The words were truer than they’d ever been before, and Spencer took it as permission to let go of any remaining hesitation. The slow, gentle thrusts became faster and our moans echoed in the small room without a second thought to the poor patrons in the rooms surrounding us. Because if they felt what we did, they would understand. Spencer still tried to hush the sounds, crashing his lips over mine in a sloppy, frenzied kiss.

I was suddenly reminded of every romantic story I’d ever heard. They all spoke of feeling so close to someone that they felt like an extension of yourself. I wasn’t sure if it was completely true, but there was no denying how at home our bodies were. The way our tongues wrapped around one another and how our noses bumped so gently in the chaos was unmatched by any meeting driven by lust or need.

His hips met mine over and over again, no matter how hard I tried to keep him closer. Even when my hips chased his to be held longer, Spencer was persistent in the ruthless pace. Because like me, he was lost in the euphoria. I knew it from the sound of his whimpers and the way he bit my lip just a little bit harder.

“Tell me what you want, little girl,” he begged. Not ordered. Begged.

“You,” I answered without any doubt, “I just want you.”

His response came even faster, even more desperate and scratchy as it came through his lips into mine.

“You have me. For the rest of my life and whatever comes after, I will take care of you.”

There was nothing left to say. I could feel the truth and force behind the words as he fucked me harder, eliciting one more quiet cry from me in the sound of his name.

“Spencer...”

When he returned the call, though, it wasn’t with any name I’d heard from him before.

“So you better get used to this feeling,” he said through a smile that I felt on my lips before he drew back. He looked me in the eye as he buried himself in me, tensing to hold himself back just a few seconds longer. To see the look on my face and let that be the feeling of us giving in to each other for the first time in our new story.

“Because I’m never going to grow tired of this, Mrs. Reid.”

Mrs. Reid.

That was going to be my name.

Mrs. Reid.

That was the only thought running through my mind as I felt the coil in my gut snap and all of my muscles tense around him. There were no whorish sounds left in my lungs, only little whimpers and whines as I tried to claw him closer. Spencer gave up his visual in exchange for kissing me while he finished. My walls held him so tightly that I felt each pulse and every place where his release filled me. But nothing was more compelling than feeling the way his lip quivered between mine as his body fell onto mine with no grace required.

Spencer could act hard all he wanted, but I felt the way he craved softness. Safety. Love. All things I was happy to give… for a price.

“Say it again.”

“Say what again?” he replied sleepily but animated enough to have a healthy dose of snark. Snark that earned him a rough nudge of my elbow into his ribs.

“You know!”

But naturally, the genius had to play dumb. With a happy little hum, he snuggled closer to me, burying his face into my neck so he could mumble against the skin, “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Please,” I sighed, “for me?”

He seemed to contemplate the plea for a little while longer, with wiggling toes I felt against my shins and a happy sigh that breezed over my neck. I tried to take in those small things while I waited, knowing that while I had a lifetime to learn them, this moment would never come again.

“Fine,” he finally settled, propping himself up to give another soft kiss followed by the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Only for you, Mrs. Reid.”

 ——  The Next Morning ——

 Waking up next to Spencer with a ring on my finger was literally waking up to find my dream come to life. And sure, his light snoring and constant wriggling under the sheets he continued to pull off of me weren’t perfect or picturesque, but they were real. The same way that he chirped when he felt my legs wrap around him in his sleep and only woke when he heard me giggling.

His eyes fluttered open, taken aback by something that he saw. Although I would blame it on the sunlight filtering through the curtains, I was sure that he would give me all the credit.

“Good morning,” he slurred.  

“Hi,” I answered with a smile and an attempt to pull him closer. But my hand was stopped by his, squeezing my palm between his fingers before dragging my knuckles to his lips. From there, he laid a gentle kiss over the diamond he’d placed there the night before. Although it was strange to be outshone by a rock, I let it go for now.

“I know you shouldn’t sleep with it on, but it’s so nice to see it’s still there,” he said with a heavy breath before lowering our still joined hands to rest against his heart. I could feel the way it beat a little bit quicker as I came closer, and I wondered if this was really what it would be like forever.

“I couldn’t resist wearing it.”

“You know you can still change your mind, right? We haven’t told anyone.”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” I replied unlike every time before. There was no teasing, no joke or anger or sadness. Just a pure, unadulterated joy.

… Of course, the question did bring up an entirely new anxiety. It did feel a bit silly, but it needs to be expressed.

“Have you?”

“God, no,” he laughed. Like he’d only asked the question to see the way I might panic. But as soon as I heard his assurance, I knew it was the truth.

My mind started to drift back to that first morning we spent together. It felt like a lifetime ago, but everything still felt so very much the same. I wondered if there were things I would change if given the chance. It wasn’t until after I ran through the laundry list of things that we would have been better off without that I realized I’d asked the wrong question.

It wasn’t a matter of what I would have changed, but what I would have kept the same. And the answer was simple. No matter what I would face in my life, I just wanted it to be with him. Everything would be okay as long as I had him.

However, when I tried to kiss him, Spencer still seemed hung up on the things he would have changed. Our lips didn’t connect for even ten seconds before he broke apart, happily laughing through the words, “This is so much better when I’m not hungover.”

“Old man.”

He didn’t argue back, wiggling under the sheets until our chests were pressed together. I took it as a very poor attempt at a power play, because instead of craning my neck to look up at him from my spot, I simply climbed his lanky figure until our noses were pressed together.

“Your old man now,” he corrected, followed by my own clarification of, “You were always mine, Dr. Reid.”

“But now you get to show everyone.” He grinned, letting go of my hand to roam over the curves of my body. His daily attempts to memorize each version of me he held. After a few more moments of silent reverence, I asked the question we’d have to face eventually, lest we face even more awkward, embarrassing moments with the team.

“Who’s gonna tell everyone?”

He barely even considered the options before he shrugged.

“Let’s just… wing it.”

I paused, certain that I’d heard it wrong. “You, Spencer Reid, would like to ‘wing it?’” I repeated, barely able to get the words out without laughing from the absurdity of it all.

But he was quick to assure me, “Yeah, I do.”

“Alright. Whatever you say,” I sighed. I figured that it wouldn’t be worth it to plan right now, anyway. It wasn’t exactly our style. If anything, we would find the perfect time completely by accident.

“You know what we should do first though?” I excitedly announced to the best audience a girl could ever ask for.

“What?”

“Coffee,” I drawled. To which he quickly answered, “I love you an ungodly amount.”

Taking full advantage of that admission, I shoved the poor soul who’d shackled himself to me forever away as I ordered, “Go turn it on. I am craving shitty hotel coffee in bed with my fiancé.”

“Fine,” he resigned with a smile while rolling out of the bed, “Spoiled brat.”

“Your spoiled brat!” I shouted back from safe under the covers that I could finally get back in his absence. They weren’t as good as him, but they would be enough for now. I buried my face into his pillow, snickering as I heard a very tired Spencer call from the bathroom, “Forever mine!”

Just as the sounds of running water filled the room, I lifted my head at the distant sound of familiar chiming beside me.

“Is that my phone?”

I didn’t answer, paralyzed in my place as I felt the most intense sensation of deja vu I’d ever experienced. Right there on the nightstand, I saw the name Hotchner.

Spencer was quicker this time to leave the bathroom, but just as he turned the corner, a thought must have stopped him. Because he paused, staring at me with hotel sheets gathered around me and his phone against my ear.  

He didn’t try to fight me for the device. In fact, he didn’t move at all, watching from a few feet away with a smile I’d never seen before. The kind that I felt so deep inside of me that I realized this was what they meant to share a soul with someone.

 “Hello,” I spoke softly and filled with love, “this is Mrs. Reid.”

 The End.

—————————————————

Epilogue

[butterflydm]

wot reread: the fires of heaven (chap 51)

 spoilers through the fires of heaven; vague references to the future and to one of the themes that is explored in the series but I try to keep it spoilers-lite

1. lol, back to the constant pipe-smoking. From Rand again, this time. Pipes sound so uncomfortable, always being clenched in the teeth like that. I suppose you get used to it? Sounds uncomfortable though. We also learn that ten days have passed since our last Rand & Mat chapter.

2. Selende (I think she’s a random Cairhienin noblewoman) is snuggling super-close to Rand and, for whatever reason, he doesn’t seem to feel like he can tell her to back off the way that he was willing to do with Berelain back in Tear? Not sure why, because he’s definitely still uncomfortable.

3. They’re really hammering in how unseasonably hot that it is right now. Ugh, I feel my doom approaching. Go away, hot weather. I disapprove of what you mean in this narrative.

4. Ah, he finally scares her away by talking about how saidin is gonna make him go crazy. Here he thinks about why he’s not just asking them to leave -- it only works very briefly and then they chase after him again. He’s also thinking about how he wants to build up his forces in Tear and then go after Sammael when and how he chooses, rather than rushing off in a temper.

5. Rand’s PoV of the information diet that he’s been put on: “Egwene gave him hints of things, but she saw matters from the White Tower, wherever she stood. The Aes Sedai point of view was not his.”

6. Berelain is marching north from Tear with a small army to help him. Her letter to him asked after Perrin, which baffles Rand somewhat and makes me sigh in resignation. Rand thinks it might be a good idea to put Berelain as the person in temporary charge of Cairhien, since he’s reserving the throne for a person he has not yet named on page.

7. We learn that Andor/Morgase (actually Rahvin, though no one here knows it) has claimed “half our lands west of the Alguenya” in the name of Andor. We also learn that apparently Rand was tempted by the first of the ladies that Colavaere sent to try to cozen him, until he realized who was sending them. The Maidens sent those who tried to sneak into his chambers away because they think he’s with Aviendha and Aviendha (harshly/violently) chased away the one that she found because she believes Elayne owns him. Jordan’s weird-ass gender relations strikes again. I really do dislike the whole “this person is claimed as my sexual/romantic property, regardless of their own feelings or whether or not I treat them well, so everyone else must stay away” vibe that happens a lot and that Jordan seemed really into. I cannot tell him this for obvious reasons but: hey, Jordan, your kinks were not Universal Truths about the Human Condition!

I certainly have my own share of Things I Like to Write/Read about, but I do my best not to make it sound as if that’s just How All People Are. Though I suppose I’m not the best judge on whether or not I’m successful, lol.

I do understand, from a hormonal standpoint, why Rand would have been tempted by the Cairhienin ladies at first, because his engine is literally getting revved every night by Aviendha undressing in front of him (apparently with great satisfaction these days? honestly, I wish I could get a glimpse of Aviendha PoV to know WTF she’s thinking in these moments; her motivations don’t make sense to me!) and he probably doesn’t even feel like he can take care of it himself because he’s pretty much never alone. He’s smart enough not to actually do anything, but I get why he’s tempted.

8. Ugh, I do dislike that the Maidens don’t respect Rand’s privacy when it comes to Moiraine, Egwene, & Aviendha wanting to talk to him? They don’t even give him a courtesy warning when it’s one of those three coming in, they’re just let inside his chambers. And this from Egwene is exactly what I mean when I say that I understand why Rand is frustrated: “You know what you need to know. And I will not tell you what you do not need to know.” That’s so condescending and frustrating beyond belief.

And it’s hard to try to untangle how Rand’s mental state is... which parts of his mental state is affected by the taint vs the clear trauma vs his frustration with how other people are constantly trying to keep him on an information leash. Those three things all combine together to cause him even more mental stress, I would expect. Anyway, it’s been six days since Egwene talked to Rand. And just... Rand’s frustration with how little he’d being told is so obvious and he gets absolutely nothing back from Egwene and Moiraine except a frustrating brick wall of calmness.

9. Anyway, he has received two letters from Tar Valon, one from Elaida and one from Alviarin. Elaida’s letter is short: she’s sending Aes Sedai to Cairhien to ‘escort’ him to Tar Valon with honor and respect. Alviarin’s is longer: very fawning, lots of compliments, and says she wants to serve him. He suspects Moiraine may have already read the letters as she barely looks at them. In the two letters, Rand can see the split in the White Tower and the presence of White Tower spies in the city. Moiraine actually gives him a compliment here: “You learn quickly. You will do well.”

10. Yeah, Rand has been heavily affected by his recent bout with the taint, I think. He’s now deliberately using Moiraine, Egwene, and Aviendha’s presence to throw Mat off balance and frighten him. Shadow Rising!Rand would be disappointed in him. Even early Fires of Heaven!Rand would be disappointed. Anyway, Rand sent for Mat four hours ago (as soon as he learned Mat was in the city) and now Mat is arriving.

And, again, we have random people calling Mat ‘Matrim’, pls just let people have nicknames. How did the Aiel even find out that his given name was Matrim, anyway? When he asks to go to Rhuidean in book four, he is specifically asked what name he calls himself and he says “Mat. Mat Cauthon”. Is it just That Well Known Even To Aiel that Mat is short for Matrim? Did Moiraine or Egwene tell them?

11. Actually... huh. Rand losing his protectiveness over Mat (which has come across as a normal level of protectiveness that isn’t at all controlling) coincides fairly closely with Rand’s increasing OVERprotectiveness over literally every woman who exists in the world, even his enemies who want to kill him (and this overprotectiveness of his IS frequently controlling; just ask the Maidens). That’s... interesting.

I’d chalk it up to Jordan changing characters’ backstories and relationships between books, as he has done before (ex. Rand and Egwene’s constantly changing backstory), except that it’s definitely been happening over the course of The Fires of Heaven (because Rand was protective over Mat when it came both to the Darkhound attack and to Moiraine’s interest in Mat’s medallion at the start of the book).

Three possible factors spring to mind, though I’m sure there are more:

Rand’s exposure to saidin/the taint itself is what is causing his weird overprotectiveness towards women, and his lessened care towards the lives of men. This theory has textual evidence but it’s mostly coincidental -- that it seems like Rand’s changes are tied to when he uses a lot of saidin.

This also may be related to Jordan’s thing about how queerness is for adolescence/single-sex environments and heterosexuality is for grownups. Because the other big event that happens in this book is Rand losing his virginity to Aviendha. And Jordan DOES have a weird thing about being queer as something you ‘grow out of’ and then go be a ‘happy heterosexual’ (the primary example being Siuan/Moiraine to Siuan/Gareth & Moiraine/Thom, but pillowfriends in general tend to follow this idea). Once Rand sleeps with a woman, his protective feelings for his male friend are now considered a hindrance to his life rather than an important part of his emotional landscape and must be tossed away. (this would likely be subconscious/unintentional on Jordan’s part tho) - and this is not a hang-up that is solely Jordan’s, to be sure. There was a huge thing a few years back where Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey fans got very frustrated with the game-makers for forcing a m/f relationship on the main character in one of the DLCs (when you had previously been allowed in-game to play the character as 100% gay if you chose, as all the romance was in the player’s hands). The ‘achievement’ for doing the DLC and having a kid with the forced m/f love interest was even called ‘growing up’, iirc.

Does Lews Therin actually know how to have friends? Legit question. At least, does he know how to have friends who are men? Because thinking back about what we know about his relationships with men during the AoL, I don’t think he has ever thought back to a strong friendship like Rand and Mat had growing up. We know he had people under his command and we know that a LOT of men were jealous of him but... did he have any friends? So it could be that LTT’s lack of understanding of How Friends Work could be contributing to Rand’s actions as LTT’s personality gets more space and time in the driver’s seat, especially when Rand doesn’t notice.

12. I will continue to evaluate as I go on. But I do note that Perrin was removed from the friend group the next book after he was paired off with Faile (he decided he couldn’t live without her at the end of TDR and then was off to his own storyline in the start of TSR); and now that Rand has officially lost his virginity, we have the upcoming separation of Rand and Mat as friends who actually get to hang out in the next book. It’s just... a potentially interesting pattern.

And one of the hallmarks of toxic masculinity is the notion that men are supposed to be stoic and aren’t allowed to share feelings with each other, only with their romantic/sexual partner, who is supposed to take on all the emotional load of the relationship (*cough* Min *cough*). And Rand is very much an exploration of the dangers of toxic masculinity, so I wonder if this is actually an intentional part of that or if this is just one of those things that Jordan thought was Just The Way The World Is.

13. Rand would like to inform us that he can see Mat’s sweaty chest because of his half unlaced shirt. Thx for the info, Rand. Mat is also wearing a silk scarf to cover up his scar from being hanged by the Eelfinn. Mat finds some security out of touching his medallion while he’s in the room with Moiraine. We learn about the Band of the Red Hand here! People (well, sigh, ‘young men’) are lining up to join. Moiraine tells us the Old Tongue name: Shen an Calhar and that they were the last to fall when Manetheren died, guarding Aemon himself.

I feel so cheated out of a ‘Mat raises Manetheren’ plotline tbh. It would have been so much more thematically appropriate than Perrin doing it. Perrin is simply not attached to the Manetheren history that way that Mat has been from the very beginning. Perrin should have been given his own narratively-relevant plotline, not taken the one that seems tailor-made for Mat!

14. Ah, the reason that Mat has only just gotten back to Cairhien is that he went to scout what was going on with the Andorans to the south/west. “Andoran supply wagons burned, outposts destroyed. And three battles. Three battles, and three victories. With small loss to your own men, though outnumbered.”

15. And Rand has a glimmer of realization about how hard he has gotten when it comes to using men, including his friends, but it’s quickly gone from his mind. Ah, MAT is the one who brings the news that Morgase is ‘dead’ (from his scouting mission). Also, Mat saying that he’s glad Elayne isn’t here to hear about her mom being dead. Aw. Also: ha, love that Rand’s plan to try to ‘soften’ Mat failed and Mat’s back just goes up. Weirdly, I also wonder if some part of Rand isn’t trying to sabotage his own plans? Because Rand SHOULD KNOW that it would just put Mat’s back up to corner him like this? It always did in the past, and it did for Rand too. It’s a Two Rivers thing. And that really does make me wonder if this is LTT’s influence, because RAND should know what Two Rivers people are like, but LTT wouldn’t.

16. Gaebril has declared himself King of Andor and of Cairhien. Okay, it also sounds like no one has officially declared Morgase dead; the official word is the Morgase is the one who made Gaebril king, but everyone is talking about how no one has seen Morgase for weeks. And Mat already knows that Gaebril was the one who wanted to have Elayne killed off back in TDR.

17. Rand’s first thought is that Elayne will ‘never forgive him’ for letting Morgase die as Rahvin’s prisoner. It makes him “quiver with fury” thinking about it. His temper is also getting worse, I think. Again, dead heat between whether this is the taint or the ptsd; though the taint is also used as a metaphor for ptsd sometimes. He is immediately too angry to go through with his plans to go after Sammael methodically and wants to go take revenge for Elayne’s sake RIGHT NOW. And he blames himself for Morgase’s death as if ‘his own hand had been on the knife’. Moiraine does convince him to hold off until ‘tomorrow’ instead of going right now to kill Rahvin.

18. Rand kicks Asmodean out when he starts playing a song called “The Fool Who Thought He Was King” and then tells Moiraine, Egwene, and Aviendha to leave so that he can talk to Mat alone. Egwene and Aviendha want to come help him with Rahvin (and Rand is still boiling over with anger inside) but he tries to tell them it’s too dangerous. And here, they call him out on being controlling & overprotective, like I just talked about above! It’s so much more extreme than he used to be at the start of this book. He did still try to protect the Maidens but he wasn’t hyper-focused on preventing Every Woman’s Death in the World like he kinda is now (he wonders here, when Moiraine mentions Lanfear, what he’ll do if she’s there with Rahvin). Rand DOES finally give in and say that they can come the next day with him to kill Rahvin. And then just as fiercely as he was trying to AVOID putting Egwene & Aviendha in danger, he tells Mat that he MUST go into danger, no choice involved. Very very changed from the start of the book!

19. Moiraine talks to Egwene and Aviendha and tells Egwene that she thinks that she handles Rand’s temper well (lol I doubt this somewhat; I guess it’s not the WORST she could have done but she could have done better too) and that Rand needs people with him who won’t be driven away by his rages (true but also... like, maybe we could TRY therapy? just a little?).

Ugh, after Moiraine leaves, Aviendha asks about whether or not the Aes Sedai in Salidar really will help Rand and Egwene warns her not to say that name in front of Rand, because he needs to be ~prepared~ first and, yes, the taint is definitely causing an increase in Rand’s temper and his paranoia, but the compete lack of trust he gets from everyone around him who claims to care about him doesn’t help, especially when they all trust each other so much more than they trust him! Egwene does think that she’s doing this for Rand’s own good, to protect him from the Aes Sedai, but she doesn’t at all consider giving Rand this information so that he can make an informed decision. And Egwene justifies this based on how Rand is behaving now but they were doing this to him BEFORE he overdosed on the taint as well. Rand has been getting the runaround from Aes Sedai since before he even knew/believed that he was the Dragon Reborn.

Egwene’s ‘protecting Rand for his own good’ thing here does very much mirror what Rand is attempting to do with them tho. They continue to be very much paralleled in their actions/behaviors.

20. Mat gets special chambers as the “young hero of the battle against the Shaido”. The argument with Rand lasted for hours, it sounds like. But Mat has noticed that he can’t seem to AVOID battles right now. The sound of the dice pretty much always means another battle over the rise, these days. He wonders if maybe he can take a ship to escape things, but figures he would manage to find a battle there, too. Anyway, what Rand wants Mat to do is take command of his Tairen army (as they move on Illian, I think?).

21. Melindhra is there in his chambers. When he tells her that he’s going to be going away for a while, ‘for Rand’ (though he’s still pondering the idea of escape), she’s annoyed. She tells him that he needs to leave behind Rand’s shadow. As soon as he mentions Caemlyn in relation to Rand, she attacks without warning. I do note that Mat’s initial thought of where to ‘escape’ to is Tear (even as he realizes that would definitely NOT remove him from Rand’s influence). When he sees her pull a knife, he instinctively throws one of his own -- a killing blow that he immediately regrets. Even as she’s dying (and tells him she always liked his ‘pretty eyes’), she tries to bring up the dagger for one last attempt to kill him, but it hits the foxhead medallion instead. He realizes that she was a Darkfriend because she says he has “the Great Lord’s own luck” when her attack fails.

22. Mat thinks about how he’s never killed a woman (...I assume he means in this life and not the past memories because I absolutely DO NOT believe that every single one of those past battles was genuinely a man-only affair). He thinks about how all he ever wants from his time with women is “a smile, a dance, a kiss, and to be remembered fondly”. He realizes that the dagger hilt she used had golden bees on it, the sign of Illian/Sammael. He thinks that she attacked because she connected him going down to Tear with him leading an army against Sammael, but the readers have additional info!

The intent of the Lanfear-Rahvin-Sammael-Graedal plan was to aim Rand at SAMMAEL, not at Rahvin, so once Mat showed that Rand was about to go off course and head to Caemlyn instead, she was the person planted to kill Mat so that Rand would get angry enough to continue to chase Sammael, who is expecting him, and not Rahvin, who is NOT expecting him.

But that is the end of Melindhra. As far as Mat’s ‘evil girlfriends’ are concerned, she is definitely my favorite, so I am kinda sad to see her go here. Goodbye, Melindhra. Also, in totally depressing news, he straight-up just sits there with her dead body for hours. Oh, bb.

[nox-artemis]

Kentaro Miura

It took me awhile to get my thoughts in order. Honestly, as well intentioned as they are, a constant stream of fan tributes on Twitter and Tumblr more-or-less telling me how to process “The End” of Berserk with Miura’s death didn’t do a lot to console me, so I had to take some huge steps away from social media and only conversed my feelings with my other close Berserk fan-friends.

It was very surreal waking up yesterday morning to a friend messaging me simply saying, “did you hear the news?” When shit like that happens, I go onto my Google stories app and scroll through. I didn’t find anything really worth getting too upset over (maybe a bit sad that Queen Elizabeth II’s doggo died?) so it hit me to check my Twitter feed instead.

And that’s when I saw it.

We all know death is inevitable, and life is pretty much spent prolonging the point to that inevitability as well as preparing ourselves for when it happens to us or someone close to us. Being part of the Berserk fandom was the only time we all collectively had this on our mind not only for someone else but for someone we never met or really knew that much about. We only knew Miura through his magnum opus – and that was good enough for us. And no matter how much we discussed the worst-case scenario – pondering how the story would continue and how WE would continue – it still wasn’t enough to prepare us for this amount of shock. Hearing Miura had died and that the Berserk we know and love under his direct supervision is over truly felt like losing a long-lost friend.

It wasn’t just that the Berserk we know of is “over”, but that Miura didn’t have to die. He was only 54: not a young age, but not an old age either, especially by today’s standards. He could have seen the end to his magnum opus the way he envisioned it, yet he died of something so avoidable but is only brought about by a great deal of stress (from what I’ve read). It was always a morbid open rumor that so many of Miura’s infamous hiatuses were actually mental and/or physical health breaks, so the older or more conscious of us fans, while always eager and anxious for a new chapter, learned to not take them so personally. Miura was a spellbinding artist and storyteller, but he was also a human with his own life and conflicts that he was entitled to address at his own pace. This isn’t meant to blame anyone (at the very least, maybe to address some societal/industry issues), but it’s troubling enough to remind everyone – as the story of Berserk has demonstrated – that you need to take care of yourself physically and mentally, and while everyone struggles in life, you don’t have to struggle alone.

I always despised this weird cult of youth that insinuates that life isn’t worth pursuing once you hit your mid-thirties, and how some people so engulfed in their youth insist that they wouldn’t mind dying by the age of 50 or 60. It’s a shame when people live by that because there’s so much to live for beyond your youth – as I’ve learned, I only started buckling down when I transitioned into my thirties. Miura could have had a longer life ahead of him, going beyond Berserk and into his other endeavors, professional and personal, but that will unfortunately never happen now.

Everyone knows I have a lot of thoughts and opinions on Berserk. Most of you found out about me through my blogging several years ago, and I’m pretty proud that I was never the sort of fan that groveled at Miura’s feet and treated Berserk as some untouchable holy book: there were things I disliked about Berserk and things that disappointed me about Miura’s writing, but there were SO MANY MORE THINGS that I loved about Berserk and was proud of Miura for, and I wished him to continue his advancement in narrative growth. He did so and we watched it happened.

And, by meeting so many friends and acquaintances through the fandom, we saw a lot in ourselves change too. It’s surreal how we always joked that it would be one of us fans who would die before Berserk ended or the worst-case scenario of Miura dying; maybe some of us secretly preferred for that happen. But when we weren’t waiting around for another chapter… look at how much we’ve done with our lives! We graduated high school, undergrad, grad school, started and advanced our careers, traveled the world, got together, popped out a kid or two!... And while we experienced a lot of downfalls and tragedies that coincide, can you believe how much we have accomplished together?

We were all personally inspired, motivated, persuaded by Berserk in different ways: a lot of us were inspired for the better and admittedly, some for the not-as-good (if spending countless hours on Tumblr has taught me, there were definitely some toxic fan takeaways that had to be confronted). I’m not going to go to the point of saying that I now live my life by Berserk’s philosophy to a T or live as a reflection of certain characters (because I’m pretty sure that Miura was trying to tell us to NOT live your life like some particular characters) but it certainly helped to brings some aspects of life and existence into perspective, through the lenses of so many characters. Berserk also inspired me to write more, an already favorite pastime of mine, and how I should go about writing and planning a story, taking cues from Berserk on how to and how NOT to write and approach things in my own way, which I think is for the best in the long run. I can only dream that I’ll be published someday – which doesn’t have to be a pipe dream because it’s still much more possible than impossible. And so many other have done the same, creating our own stories and works.

And OF COURSE Berserk inspired me to be a little bit badass from time to time in moments of frivolity and seriousness – but it reminds us all that being badass and being a kinder person who tries to become the best version of themselves are not mutually exclusive. We definitely need more of that in today’s world.

We all made our own little bonfires of dreams happen, and because of Berserk existing, there will be a lot more beginnings than endings, and I don’t see a lot of bonfires being extinguished anytime soon. Miura poured his heart and soul into Berserk and its characters, and while he has passed on, his characters and lessons will live on through us and everything we create and how we live our lives (hopefully for the better).

I was happy to share all of my thoughts with you all – and I’ll continue to do so, since the mythos of Berserk has been a major backdrop of my creative mind for over fifteen years now and there is still so much to dissect and speculate. Personally, I don’t see Berserk ending just yet, if only because I’d be surprised that Miura or his publisher didn’t have some Operation London Bridge type plan in place in the event that this happened (Berserk is, after all, a major title that most likely brings Young Animal a lot of revenue). Again, I never treated Miura or Berserk as divine untouchables, so if there are plans in place to continue Berserk without Miura (BUT with his permission) or just on how to wrap up the story to give it a fulfilling conclusion, I personally would be okay with it (as a friend of mine put it, it’d be more of a tribute than an imitation). Going beyond our lifetimes, works will continue to be interpreted and reinterpreted as they have since time immemorial; perhaps Berserk will reach that point someday.

Honestly, and many have thought so too, Berserk was also meant to be cosmic level in both scale and concept. The plot is so grand and Byzantine that, even under Miura’s direct supervision, I always had a hard time envisioning how a story of this scale would conclude. As much as we love to hate him, a final showdown between Guts and Griffith seems too simple, too “good vs. evil”-esque for Berserk. Maybe having a low-key, vague but optimistic and bittersweet wrap up is what is best for Guts, Casca, and their new-found family. But that’s just another one of my fan speculations.

Regardless or what is to become of Berserk now, I think it’s safe to give adulations. We all came across Berserk at different times in our lives and stuck with the story for different reasons. For some of us, it was just another series that our friend from the campus anime club recommended to us; for others, we were drawn in from a morbid curiosity of its dark notoriety in anime circles. A few of us read for the gratuitous violence and the clout (because we all know you’re so deep and hardcore [/sar]), but a lot more of us read for the journey and the characters that we became a part of. The heaviness of Berserk made us confront a lot of trauma and even relive our own. For some of us, understandably, it was not a good idea to dive deeper (and maybe somethings could have been handled better); for the rest of us, it helped us cope, if not entirely through the story itself, than through the support network we made for ourselves in this fandom and its many realms (some realms, I argue, are more caring and nurturing than others).

From time to time, I always wonder if I would ever “grow out” of Berserk. There were indeed several times I took a step away from fandom and have tried to reduce my exposure to the story - but I always came back in some way, because the essence of Berserk has never left me and never will. Humorously I envisioned myself actually forgetting about Berserk for several decades, decades in which I work at my career, raise my family, mourn my elders, but continue living my life, only to go on the future internet in my mid-50s to find out… Miura is STILL working on that ending, sitting at his desk in the same pose as that famous monochrome capture of him, only he’s grayed and wrinkled, like the great Miyazaki.

The possibility of that future is over, but there are so many others.

[sunshineseung]

Journal Part 4 // Jeongin

🍄 | genre: smut mini-series ☁️ | pairing: Yang Jeongin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 5.8k holy shit i am so sorry- 🌸 | includes: milf!reader x babysitter!college student!jeongin, plot 🤢🤮, smut within smut (mentions of marking, pet names/degrading names), anal toys (plug), jeongin wears feminine underwear, nipple clamps, mentions of rule breaking/punishment, begging, face sitting, praise, degradation, mentions (not use) of safe word, pegging, the obvious overuse of the word “mommy” and “ma’am”, aftercare, buttered pasta :)

🌊 | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Finale |

The sound of his own foot tapping was enough to make him more anxious than he already was, and the light shining through the window directly onto his shiny desk to reflect on his eye wasn’t helping. He’s practiced the conversation a million times over in his head. The plan was simple: class ends, ask Professor Lee about his missing journal, and get it back. How hard could it be?

Evidentially, pretty damn hard. All throughout class, Professor Lee was staring at Jeongin, picking on him when no one else would answer easy questions, and overall making his life a living hell just by his presence. 

“Yang Jeongin, come see me.” Minho sighs, adjusting his glasses as he looks up at the clock on the wall of his classroom. “The rest of you are dismissed.” 

Ending class 15 minutes early was extraordinarily unusual for Professor Lee, but the other students hardly batted an eye as they collected their belongings and shuffled out of the room, leaving as Jeongin stepped up to his professor’s desk. He was practically sweating bullets at this point, all of his plans flowing out of his head with every step. The glare Professor Lee was giving Jeongin was intimidating to say the least, but Lee Minho knew all too well what he was going to say.

“You wanted to speak to me, sir?” Jeongin tilts his head, standing over his professor, giving the illusion that Jeongin had the upper hand in this situation. 

“Yes, Jeongin. You left your notebook behind last class, and I just wanted to give it back to you.” Professor Lee opens his top desk drawer, pulling out Jeongin’s journal and holding it out in his hand towards Jeongin. Before his student could grab it, he pulled away, reeling Jeongin in like a fish. “You really ought to be more careful with your stuff. Don’t want anyone else getting their hands on this, do we?” 

Jeongin shakes his head, holding his hand out, patiently waiting for his teacher to put the book into his hand. The room is coated in silence despite the chatter from the hall. Jeongin can feel his heart beating out of his chest, trying his best not to jump over the desk and snatch the journal out of his professor’s hands. 

“So, do you like writing?” The smirk stretching across Professor Lee’s smug face is breaking Jeongin. He feels this odd sense of deja vu on top of the overwhelming anxiety. Jeongin nods again, slightly shaking his outstretched hand, urging his professor to finally hand it over. “Is that what this journal is for? Writing?” 

“Professor Lee, can I please have my journal back? I have another class to get to, sir.” Jeongin dodges the question like a professional, but Professor Lee isn’t satisfied. He laughs in Jeongin’s face, rolling his eyes slightly at the boy’s wit.

“I ended class early. You have plenty of time to talk, Yang Jeongin.” Professor Lee stands up, walking to the other side of his desk and pulling out another chair from a student desk. “Sit down, take a load off. You’re one of my star students. I’d like to get to know you.” 

“Aright, professor.” Jeongin’s staring at the journal, loosely dangling from his professor’s hand. Still, he sits in the uncomfortable chair as the older man leans on his desk, facing the boy. Jeongin holds out his hand again, looking up at his professor with emotionless eyes, desperate to leave this room and go home, because him saying he has another class was a complete lie. Just for right now, Professor Lee wants to play a little game with Jeongin, a game the younger doesn’t even realize he’s playing.

“You don’t have to call me professor. Right now, you can call me Minho.” Jeongin nods, slouching in the chair. “You never answered my question, Jeongin. What do you write in this journal? Notes for class I’d assume.”

“Yeah, notes for class.” Jeongin’s voice cracks as he looks back at the journal, Minho now having one of his fingers between the pages. He winces just imagining what his professor would think if he read a single paragraph on any page. “I need them to study, so can I have it back now?” 

“Well, if it’s just notes, then you’re okay with me reading it, right?” Minho jolts his arm up, opening the book to a random page. Jeongin’s about to run out of the room in embarrassment before Minho holds a hand up, successfully stopping him. “C’mon, Jeongin. Do you honestly think I haven’t already read this?”

If Jeongin had anything in his stomach right now, he’d surely throw up. You reading the journal was one of his fantasies come to life, but this was a bit overkill. He’d never want anyone other than you to read his journal, let alone one of his professors.

“What’s got you so quiet now?” Minho raises the pitch of his voice to taunt Jeongin, playing up the scene. “You’ve had the audacity to write about Y/n in this book nearly every single class, but now that you’ve been caught, you bite your tongue?” 

“Don’t say her name!” Jeongin gets extremely defensive, standing out of the seat to be the same height as his professor. “What do you want from me? Just give me the journal and I’ll go. I’ll even switch out of this class if you want. I don’t care!” 

“Aw, Jeonginnie~” Minho rests his face on his hand, holding his own cheek as he watches Jeongin’s face get red with anger. “Just tell me, how is Y/n doing?” 

“How do you know Y/n?” Jeongin’s confused, unable to connect the pieces to this puzzle. 

“You’re not as smart as you let on.” Minho gets closer to Jeongin, getting right in his face to scare the young boy. “I was her husband. We were your neighbors.”

Jeongin could feel his legs shake, finally connecting every conversation, every question, every action. He steps back, vision going blurry as he’s flooded with memories of seeing none other than Lee Minho in your front lawn, playing with his daughters in the back, or sneaking out to a taxi late at night towards the end of his memories. Jeongin didn’t know your name until he started working for you, let alone know your estranged husband’s name. He felt like such a dumbass at this moment.

“So, how is she?” Minho puts his hand on Jeongin’s shoulder, forcing Jeongin to focus on him. “If you’re going to fuck my ex wife, you could at least tell me how she’s doing.”

“She’s doing well, certainly a lot better without you.” Minho scoffs, laughing at Jeongin’s weak attempt at a diss. 

“And the girls are doing well?” 

“Yup. I watch them every night after my classes.” Jeongin folds his arms, turning his chin up at Minho. How soon he forgets that Minho still has his precious journal.

“So that’s where she gets ya, huh?” Minho brings the notebook back to his face, flipping to a random page, putting his finger on a random line. “Is that where she, in your words, ‘gripped your cock like you’ve wanted her to for so long’? Or did that happen later?”

Half of Jeongin’s brain is struggling to come up with a response, while the other half is thinking about the first time you gave him a blowjob. He’s clenching his fists with anger, hoping Minho didn’t see him starting to pop a boner. 

“What goes on between us is none of your business.” Jeongin jumps forward, finally snatching his journal out of Minho’s hands. He holds his journal tightly in his hands, clutching it close to his chest. “I’ll be leaving now.”

Just as Jeongin turns around to get his bookbag, Minho grabs his wrist and turns him around, once again finding each other inches away from the other’s face. 

“She didn’t tell you anything about me, did she?” Jeongin shakes him off, rapidly walking back to his desk to get his bag. “Answer me, little boy.”

“She’s never said a word about you, Minho.” Jeongin goes for the door, finally seeing his exit within his sights. “Now leave me alone. I’ll see you on Thursday, sir.”

And with that, he’s out. Finally within possession of his journal, he minds his business walking down the hall, heading back to his house that’s less than a 10 minute walk from the campus. 

Just wait until Y/n hears about this.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

“He really hasn’t changed at all.” You stare out the window, taking a sip of tea from your mug as Jeongin finishes retelling the entire story to you. “I’m proud of you, Jeongin.”

“Proud of me? Why?” 

“You handled him very well. Any other boy your age would have crumbled under the pressure.” You sit next to him on the couch, putting your hand on his thigh more as comfort than a tactic to get into his pants. Regardless of your intentions, Jeongin can’t help but blush and bite his lip being the horny boy he is. “Lee Minho has a way with words. His charm worked on me in high school, and I’m sure it works on the other students in his classes.”

“Oh yeah, all the girls have crushes on him.” Jeongin covers his mouth with his hands when he realizes what he says. You just giggle at him, recalling some of the sweet, romantic moments you had with your ex-husband before everything went to shit. 

“Well, you know, the girls are going to his house this weekend. Maybe you should come over?” You ride your hand up his thigh teasingly, making Jeongin freeze as if he hasn’t had sex with you literally days earlier. “I’m always so worried about the girls when they’re with him. Maybe you can help me destress, baby boy.” 

“I’ll help you destress, mommy!” Jeongin smiles, mentally clearing his schedule for this weekend. “Can I ask something though?” 

“Ask away, baby. I’m an open book.” You lean back, one arm flailing behind your head as you take another sip from your mug.

“Why did you two… separate?” Jeongin cringes at his own words, realizing he might have crossed a line as your facial expression changes from a soft smile to a frown. “I’m just curious, sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry. I’ll tell you.” You huff as you sit up, swinging your arms forward so you can straighten your back. “He started acting distant out of nowhere, and some nights I’d wake up to find him gone from his side of the bed. A quick glance at his phone and I saw texts from another woman. I’d rather not get into gruesome details, but that’s the jist of it.”

“You don’t have to get into details. I shouldn’t have asked.” Jeongin shakes his head, leaning on your shoulder to comfort you. You put your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close to you. “Thank you for sharing with me.”

“No, thank you for asking. It feels good to get these things off of my chest.” You sigh, feeling an odd sense of relief. You’ve never talked to anyone about this other than a therapist you had for a brief time before work took over your life.

“So… was he a sub like me?” You nearly spit out your tea, Jeongin sitting up and patting your back to stop you from coughing on the drink. “Sorry! Sorry!” 

You can’t help but laugh at the curious boy, his face getting redder than you’ve ever seen. That’s the hardest you’ve ever laughed in a while. 

“Do you really want to know?” You raise an eyebrow, Jeongin covering his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“I mean… a little.” He uncovers one eye, looking at your cheerful expression and immediately calming down after seeing you aren’t mad. “You’re good at… ya know. You have to have experience being a dom, right?” 

“Actually, I’ve always been the submissive. Do you really think the egoist Lee Minho would let someone else be in control?” You laugh at your own remark, Jeongin catching on and laughing with you. “But thank you for saying I’m good at sex I guess. Although, I don’t know how much of a compliment that is considering you’re a virgin” 

“Hey! I’m not a virgin anymore!” The red-as-a-tomato Jeongin makes a return as you laugh at his defensiveness. “Can I ask… one more question?”

“Jeez, are you interviewing me or something?” You take another sip of your tea as you gesture for the boy to ask away. He gulps, calculating his final question before he has to go home.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” Pause. You stare at the floor, thinking critically to yourself. How can you let down your sweet little boy without breaking his poor heart?

“Jeongin, you know we can’t be together.” You take one of his hands in your free hand, squeezing his fingers between yours as he nods, looking down at his legs. “I’m over 10 years older than you. That would be absurd.” 

“What if no one knows?” He’s really harping on this, huh? “Or can we be another title? Maybe friends with benefits?” 

“Yang Jeongin,” your quiet, commanding voice makes Jeongin look into your eyes, seeing the seriousness in your expression, “I’m your mother’s friend, not yours. I’m not sure how to define our relationship, but if you really want a label, we can be… sex partners. But no one can know that, alright?” 

“I understand.” Jeongin squeezes your hand back, allowing a comforting silence to fill the room. “So, this weekend?” 

“You can come over Friday night. He takes the girls in the morning, but I have work for the first half of the day. I took the weekend off, though, so I’m all yours, pretty boy.” You kiss his lips, getting caught in the taste before you pull back, stay your goodbyes, and send him home for the night before you go to bed for yourself.

When Jeongin gets back to his room, he sighs and takes out his journal, cracking his fingers before laying the pencil on the paper.

I want Lee Minho to pay. I want him to pay for breaking the heart of the woman I love, even if she doesn’t reciprocate the feelings. He must be insane for cheating on such an amazing woman. If mommy marks me up, leaving hickeys all over my pale neck, I’ll boldly wear something with a low-cut so Lee Minho can see all of the marks left by the most beautiful woman in the world. I’ll make sure he knows that I satisfy her more than he ever could. Y/n, if you’re reading this, please leave pretty bruises all over my body. I want mommy to mark me so bad, make sure everyone knows I’m hers. Regardless of the label anyone puts on our relationship, no one can deny that I’m hers. Her perverted boy, her slutty toy, her little prince, all hers. Only hers.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

The weekend flies closer than he could have imagined, and after seeing you come home exhausted and drained every single night, nothing pleases Jeongin more than knowing he’s the one that will help you relax. As he walks to your house, he regrets not going to the store and getting lotions so he could give you a massage from his unqualified hands. 

“Hey, baby.” You smile at him, bright and gorgeous as always. You invite him in and offer him a drink, which he politely declines. You notice he’s shaking more than usual, and although he was always nervous and awkward, you’ve never see him get this shaky. “Are you okay, Jeongin?”

“Mommy…”

“Oh, we’re right out the gate with this one?”

“I have a surprise for you.” Jeongin takes his shirt off and pulls down his jeans, revealing a hot pink, lace thong covering his half-hard cock. You look up from his cock to his chest, seeing fake, silver nipple rings adorning his pink buds. You cover your mouth as you gasp, indescribably turned on from the presentation this boy had planned. “That’s not all.”

He turns around, bending over so the thong dives deeper between his ass cheeks, but you quickly notice what he was hinting at. There’s a little pink rose peeking out of his ass, a clear decoration on a plug. He looks so fucking hot. You can’t take your eyes off of him.

“What do you think, mommy?” He holds his arms out as he turns around, facing you again as your body hasn’t moved since he’d last faced you. “Don’t you like it?”

“I love it, little prince.” You walk up to him, holding his waist in your hands as you pull him closer, licking one of his nipples, tasting the distinct metal flavor of the ring. “You never fail to surprise me, baby.” 

You kiss from his nipple to his panties, getting down on your knees as you lick over the thin fabric. He twitches under the lace, getting harder every second. Before your mouth can properly suck his cock, you stand up and kiss him harshly on the lips, tasting a faint strawberry flavor. You smile against his mouth, holding his by his waist again as you pull him into your body, your chests coming in contact. 

“Mommy, please sit on my face. I want to make you feel good,” Jeongin whines between kisses. Your hands run up and down his body, feeling him up and making him shiver in anticipation. For right now, you’re content with just sucking on his sweet lips, but his cock clearly needs some attention. “Please~”

“Let’s go to my bedroom, sweetheart. I’ll ride your pretty face as much as you want.” You take his hand in yours as you take him back to your room, practically throwing him on the bed. He palms himself over his thong while you undress, totally forgetting about the rules you’d set up. When you turn around, your gaze goes immediately, almost instinctively, to his hand on his cock as he half-assedly strokes himself. “Is my naughty little boy touching himself? Without my permission?” 

“Sorry, mommy. I couldn’t help it.” Jeongin presses his bottom lip out as he pouts, pulling his hand off of his cock. You roll your eyes and get onto the bed, sitting over his chest before staring down at him like you’re a shark and he’s your next meal. 

“I don’t know if you deserve to eat my pussy anymore.” You ponder, bringing your hand to your chin as if you’re genuinely considering not riding his face until you’re dripping. He puts his hands above his head and pleads again, whining in his adorable high-pitched voice. “Alright, baby boy, but only because I want this.”

You scoot up to his face, hovering your naked cunt over his gorgeous face. As you slowly start to lower your hips to his mouth, Jeongin eagerly sticks his tongue out and fights against his reflexes to just grab you. He laps at your folds, humming from the sweetness as you grind on his face and grip the headboard of the bed. 

“Good boy, Jeonginnie. If you make mommy cum, you’ll get a reward.” He moans into your pussy, his cock twitching under his lace panties just at the thought of you rewarding him. For being so hungry for punishment just days prior, he really wanted to be your good little boy just for today. He sticks his wet tongue into your cunt, inciting you to ride his face even harder, raising and lowering just enough for his tongue to never leave your tight, needy cunt. 

His tongue pulls back, leaving you empty for a moment before he starts kissing and sucking at your clit. You lean forward, putting your clit right up to his mouth all for him. Your sopping cunt was absolutely begging for an orgasm, and Jeongin was getting you there faster than you could have ever imagined. The moans leaving your throat only made Jeongin want to make you cum even more. 

“Please cum on my face, ma’am.” Jeongin wastes no time returning his tongue to your pussy, his wrists still above his head as if he were cuffed. Your legs start to get uneasy, shaking around Jeongin’s head as you breath heavily and mindlessly moan out his favorite pet names and countless praises. He’s smiling against you, sucking your folds until you finally release, your cunt tightening around his tongue as you whine and grind, riding out your high on his face. You were undoubtedly euphoric, slowly coming down from an extremely intense orgasm, but Jeongin was also through the moon, tasting all of your juices leaking into his mouth. 

“Ah, thank you little boy.” You flip your leg over his head, stepping back onto the floor with your weak, tired legs, a hand on the bed so you don’t fall over. You run a hand down his leg, Jeongin starting to shake with anticipation. He holds his wrists steady above his head without any help of restraints. Your palm runs over his cock, touching him over his thin panties. He lets out a huff, needy for more. “Does my sweet prince need to be fucked?” 

Jeongin’s whine are so fucking pathetic. A tear runs down his cheek just from the thought of you fucking him. He watches you as you turn around and reach into your drawer, digging through until you pull out a harness and a bright pink dildo that oddly matches his panties. Jeongin tightens his hole, remembering the bulb nestled in his ass. As you put the harness on, he lifts his hips and shakes his as against the bed.

“Mommy,” he whimpers, “please fuck my ass. Need your cock in me so fucking bad!” He sounds so overwhelmingly lewd, but you loved every second of it. You attach the dildo to your harness, tightening it perfectly so it won’t budge. You cup his cheek as you reposition yourself on the bed, lifting his legs over your thighs. You watch his cock tremble, begging to be touched, as Jeongin stares directly at your face, watching your eyes dart from his cock to his hardened nipped to his quivering lips. “Mommy?”

“Yes sweetheart?” You tilt your head and smile, making a burst of warmth erupt in Jeongin’s chest. 

“Please be gentle, okay?” You giggle at his cuteness and nod, reaching to your bedside to take out lube. Squirting it onto your hand, you rub the length of the dildo with one hand while you teasingly pull at his plug, pulling it out just enough to make him groan. 

“You look incredible, baby boy.” You lean down to kiss him while your hand moves from your dildo to his ass, both hands pulling out the plug before you finger him with lubed fingers. All of his moans are lost on your lips, his tongue letting out and into your mouth, dancing with yours. He squeals when your fingers leave his ass, and he knows exactly what’s next. 

You take his hands in yours from above his head, pulling them down to be next to his head. You lean over the boy while you line your cock with his hole, teasingly pushing the tip against his entrance. 

“I’ll go slow, don’t worry angel.” Your hands hold your hips as you slowly push the strap into Jeongin, watching it disappear into his tight little hole. His thong is pushed to the side of his hole while painfully rubbing against the bottom of his shaft. You would have taken it off, but he just looks too damn sexy in them. 

Jeongin writhes as you stop halfway, petting his sides to help him calm down. He feels so full, so stretched, something he’s never felt before. He’s wanted this for so long, he just wants to enjoy it so bad, especially for you, but the pain is starting to get to him. He’s whining loudly, biting down on his lip harshly in hopes of silencing some of his sounds. 

“Jeongin? Are you okay?” Your voice is soft, but not delicate. You’re speaking at a regular volume, an attempt to pull Jeongin out of his head. He opens his eyes and looks at you, tears threatening to fall out. “What’s the safe word?” 

“Avocado.” 

“One more time for me, baby. What’s the safe word?” Without moving your hips, you lean forward to hold onto his face. He looks so gorgeous, messy and covered in sweat. You just want him to be happy. 

“Avocado.” He pushes his face against your hand, his voice returning to a regular pitch. “You can go further now, mommy.” 

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” You lean more to kiss his forehead, admiring his sharp facial features. 

“I want you to fuck me, please.” His tone is flat, sounding almost unenthused until the final word. You nod and patiently push into him, carefully watching his face for any indication of pain. Jeongin starts to groan loudly as you bottom out, pressing the bottom of the harness against him. “Thank you.” 

“Good boy, Innie. My angel’s so pretty like this.” Your hands go to his chest, dainty fingers pinching his nipples just how he likes. His moans are back to being the high, pathetic whines you’re used to from the boy. His cock twitches, a drop of precum dripping from the tip. “You ready for me to move, my little prince?”

“Yes, mommy. I’m ready!” Your heart warms watching Jeongin’s face light up for such a perverted sentiment. He looks so excited, finally starting to enjoy it. You grip his hips tight as you pull out, watching his cock stutter and his mouth hang open. When you pound back into him slowly, Jeongin feels that familiar warmth in his stomach. 

“You like this, baby boy? You like getting fucked by your mommy?” Your voice is sinister as you increase the pace, rhythmically moving your hips against Jeongin’s ass. His legs shutter as you fuck him, all of his nerves standing on edge. “Who’s mommy’s little cumslut?”

“I am, mommy! I’m your little c-cum… fuck!” Jeongin throws his head back as you wrap one hand around his cock, your other hand is grounded on his hip. You start to jerk him, fast and aggressive, coaxing him to an orgasm even faster.

The dildo drags against Jeongin’s walls, brushing past the sensitive spot he didn’t even know he had. With every thrust and stroke, he can feel himself start to fall apart, all of his speech devolving into incoherent whines and cries. Sweat drips down his forehead as he finds it harder and harder to hold back his release. 

“C-close,” he whimpers, “gonna cum.” 

“Aw, my sweet little boy ready to cum?” You speed up the movements of your hand, tightening your iron grip on his sensitive, red cock. Jeongin feels his reality start to fade, only being able to focus on his impending orgasm. “Cum all you want, baby. Be a good little boy and cum for mommy.”

Your eyes stare intensely at his cock as he’s pushed over the edge, his body convulsing as he has the most powerful orgasm of his life. He shoots his load all over his abs and chest, some dripping onto your hand. Your hand goes still on his shaft, but your hips still slowly rut into him, easing him through his high. 

“Gonna pull out now, alright pretty boy?” He nods, bringing his hand up to his face for him to bite down on his finger. You gently pull your hips back, eventually slipping out of him, watching him breath heavily as you let go of his hips and cock. “Did you like that?” 

“Yes, Y/n. You felt so good,” he smiles, watching you as you stand up to pull the harness off and toss it towards the drawer for you to clean later. “Can we get dinner now?”

“Sweetheart, you need to rest!” You walk to the side of the bed and give him a peck on his forehead, soon kissing him on his plush lips. He lays on your bed, limbs spread out as he’s lifeless and naked. “You did so well for me. I’ll cook you dinner while you take a nap, alright?”

“I’d like that, mommy. Thank you!” You pull the discarded comforter over his body, forcing him to get warm and cozy under your covers. He looked so sweet in your bed, snuggled against the soft bed that smelled like you. 

“How about pasta? Does my boy like pasta?” He nods, shutting his eyes and rolling to his side, preparing to sleep. “I’ll be back in an hour. Rest well, Jeongin.” 

“Thank you~”

Jeongin dozes off as you get dressed in lounge pants, a loose shirt, underwear and no bra. He looks so peaceful sleeping, so you’re extra quiet when you slip out of your bedroom to the kitchen. 

You gather the ingredients and start to boil the water when you get a call. Just as before, it’s your ex-husband, Minho. You groan and hesitantly press the green phone button, turning the call to speaker before setting your phone on the counter. 

“Y/n? Hello?”

“What do you want, Minho?” Your voice sounds disinterested to say the least, and Minho immediately gets the hint that his call was not wanted. 

“I’m gonna cut to the chase. One of my student’s grades are suffering because of your relationship with him-“

“Shouldn’t you be watching my kids?” You don’t have the mental capacity to listen to Minho scold you right now. Your motherly instincts are tingling, and he should be watching your little angels right now. 

“They’re with their stepmom right now.” You grumble at his use of the word “stepmom” considering your daughters still call her by her first name, but nevertheless, you go silent, hoping he’ll get on with this call. “As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, you need to stop playing games with Yang Jeongin.” 

“Playing games?” Your face turns red as anger suddenly fills your brain. “We aren’t playing games, Lee Minho. We’re adults. Neither of us need your permission.” 

“You’re playing with this kid’s feelings. Don’t you feel bad?” You pause, watching bubbles start to rise in the pot. “This kid is suffering just because you want to be fucked and you’re too prideful to-“

“Don’t even say that, Minho.” You reach for the box of pasta, dumping the noodles into the pot of boiling water. “I’ll never get back with you. You know that.” 

“What does he have that I don’t?” You hear a loud tsk through the phone, Minho taking a break in his talk to ponder his next move. “You’d rather fuck a college student than a real man?”

“Jeongin’s more of a real man than you’ll ever be!” You’re nearly yelling at this point, rage overwhelming you. “What do you know about our relationship anyway? It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, but it is!” Before you have a chance to respond to his outlandish comment, he chimes back in. “He writes in his little fantasy book every single class, and every time I look over his shoulder, I have to see your name scrawled over every page. He’s obsessed with you, Y/n.” 

“Shut up! Just, shut up!” You stop stirring the pasta to collect your thoughts, breathing in before you lash out at Minho over the phone. “Go watch my kids-“

“Our kids.”

“Go watch our kids and never speak to me about this again. I’ll tell Jeongin to get his grades up. Just, for fuck’s sake, leave me alone.” You hang up, angrily throwing your phone onto the counter again. You hear the floor squeak behind you and you turn around, a scared Jeongin standing behind you with the blanket wrapped around him.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” His eyes well up with tears, fearful of how you’ll respond. “This was a mistake.” 

“Jeongin, baby, no!” You drop the spoon to the edge of the pot and bring Jeongin in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. His arms wrap around your neck, the blanket falling to the floor to reveal him wearing one of your big shirts. “Don’t mind him. How much did you hear?”

“A-all of it.” He sniffles, collecting himself with deep breaths. “I didn’t know I’d cause so much trouble.”

“It’s Minho who’s causing trouble, not you.” You pet down his back, trying to get him to calm down and stop crying. “Go back to my room and lay down, babe.” 

“Can I stay out here and watch you?” You lean down to pick up the blanket, wrapping it around Jeongin again. His eyes are puffy and red as if he’s been emotional for a while, and your heart aches just looking at his disheveled state. 

“Of course, baby. Go sit on that stool.” He pulls the stool out from under the kitchen island and gets comfortable, leaning on the counter with his elbows. You go back to stirring the pasta, watching it rise and fall. “I love you, Jeongin.” 

“I love you too, Y/n. Thank you for inviting me here today.” He swoons at your bright demeanor, a stark contrast from the bitter persona you’d taken while on the phone with his professor. “What did you mean when you said I’m a… real man?” 

You laugh a bit, dropping the spoon to the side and getting butter and a bowl out for the pasta. “Lee Minho was never a good man. He takes advantage of everyone who comes into his life. You’re not like that.” 

Jeongin tilts his head. “Then what am I like?” 

“You’re, uh…” you put your hand on your chin, scratching at your skin in thought. “You’re very kind and genuine, which is a bit surprising for a boy your age.”

Jeongin hated every time you brought up age. It only furthered to remind him about how different you two were, and how he never had a chance with you from the start. In your eyes, he’ll never be more than a kid, and that ate away and him. Jeongin’s only goal with you was for you to see him as an equal rather than a child, but he wasn’t sure how to go about reaching that.

“So I’m a real man?” Jeongin smiles, his heart fluttering thinking of you calling him a man. 

“Pasta’s ready! Do you want cheese?” You pour the pasta from the strainer into the bowl, mixing it with the butter. Per your request, Jeongin gets the powdered cheese out of the refrigerator, sitting at the kitchen island again, this time with you right next to him, piling pasta onto his plate before yours, your motherly instincts kicking in again. 

“Thank you mo- I mean, Y/n!” You both giggle at his adorable slip up, appreciating each other’s company. 

“You’re welcome, baby boy.” You push his hair from his forehead and kiss his nose, his cheeks quickly turning a deep shade of pink. “So cute.” 

taglist: @milkym00n @sparklysung @starsareseen @sailorhyunjinz @gothicstay @vogueinnie​ @mariannaab

[lunaastoir]

cute things i think the genshin characters would do

characters included: diluc, kaeya, venti, and albedo 

****minor lore spoilers for diluc!****

an: i’m thinking of making this into a series bc this was such an adorable concept to write so lmk if you’re interested 👀 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

diluc 

sorry kind of starting off with something a little sad 

i think diluc would have a habit of rubbing his vision 

ok seems kinda dumb at first but let me elaborate: 

after the death of his father, diluc was quite obviously devastated 

he basically withdrew into himself after letting all the grief, pain, and rage flood his senses

i think during this time of grieving, he would’ve developed this habit of running the pads of his fingers across his vision to calm himself down 

(v similar to katara from atla) 

since his father had always been proud of diluc’s vision, the thought of touching something that reminded him of his father has always been able to bring him some sort of relief no matter how short lived

it serves as a constant memory of his dad and i think being able to have that kind of connection - no matter how small would hold a significance to him 

stressed? you’ll see his fingers dance across his vision as the crease between his eyebrows gradually loosens 

ok here’s a bonus habit (bc the previous one was sad) 

whenever he’s bartending at angel’s share, he always flips the bottles in this cool bartending way before pouring the drinks 

like the whole shabang - flips in the air, shakes it in a way that the drink foams just right 

people are usually v surprised when they see this bc woah mans has got some sKILLS 

but also bc he’s known for being pretty serious and reserved so seeing a “trick” is kind of breaking the stoic image they have of him 

after he’s done pouring the drinks he’s also really precise about closing the bottles 

he makes sure that the caps are on tightly and that nothing is leaking (which ig is another reason why he does flips with them so he can make sure that the bottles are tightly closed) 

yes he’s rich but he also wants to make sure the drinks don’t go bad bc 1) kind of a loss if they do and 2) his customers deserve the best 

sweet man pls protect him <3 

kaeya

when he’s sitting down at his desk, he brings his legs up so he can sit on his chair criss- cross applesauce 

since he’s in his office and the only other person who’s in there with him is jean, he feels like he can drop the suave, charming cavalry captain facade he puts on when he’s in public and just dial it down slightly to who he really is in that moment 

jean doesn’t say a word the entire time even tho she quite obviously notices 

don’t get me wrong, he’s still the smooth talking kaeya but just,,, more relaxed and comfortable?? if that makes sense 

so since he’s a lot more comfortable in his office, he usually folds his legs into his chair bc damn they hurt from walking around all day

this is kinda dumb but i also think he has a lot of ink stains on his hands from writing so whenever he sees a fresh one he just likes to stamp it onto a piece of paper 

usually that piece of paper ends up being an unimportant report that goes to jean 

dw he also has a bunch of pretty small towels in his bottom drawer that he uses to wipe his hands on bc the public can’t see the pretty cavalry captain w ink stains!! the world would end!! 

oH kind of a side note but i also think he would keep a small folded up picture of something klee drew him in his pocket 

he thinks it’s very sweet and he periodically takes it out just to look at it soft for this man 

last one for kaeya but since he wears boots that have the little lip on the bottom (not really a heel but enough to make some noise) he makes sure to always try his best to walk quietly around the streets of mondstadt at night 

if anyone catches him doing it he’ll wave it off and say something like “oh me? i’m just practicing my stealth - it comes in handy when you have to sneak up on enemies you know?” but in reality that’s just bs 

he really just doesn’t wanna risk waking people up <3 

venti

this adorable man is obviously notorious for drinking 

he loves alcohol!! i mean he’s the anemo archon of the city of wine and freedom so is anyone really surprised 💀

anyways venti always jokes abt not having any mora (he really doesn’t he’s not wrong) but he always makes sure to pay his tab at angel’s share 

the only reason diluc lets him drink sm is because at the end of the day, venti always comes through w the mora 

he really is a talented bard so everything he makes in singing and composing music for other people to listen to always goes straight to angel’s share (debatable if that’s for the best or not but i’ll leave that one to you) 

so yeah <3 basically venti pays back his tabs even tho he’s an archon since he doesn’t want people to experience a loss bc of him 

it’s the archon nature coming out but also the venti nature bc he’s a sweet boy 

anyways getting onto the actual habit 🕺

he has a tendency to skip/hop regardless of wherever he’s going 

he uses his anemo elemental skill a lot while doing this just he can feel a light breeze whenever he skips around 

i also think he carries around extra bard strings in his hat bc he thinks it’s a cool party trick to take them out and be like tada i have extra strings no need to worry!!! 

people are usually not that amused but he does it anyway 

also yeah uh those strings sometimes fall out when he’s skipping 💀 

he’ll be hopping and suddenly bOOM they fall out, he loses them, a kitten by the name of prince takes them, and he has to ask for help to find his strings (i believe this is exactly how venti lost his strings to prince during the windblume festival and no i will not take any criticism and if venti says something different he is lying 🔪)

also has a habit of putting his hair into a bun sometimes!!! 

he loves his pigtails but he finds that he gets bored of them occasionally and his hair needs a break from its wavy tresses so he just plops it into a bun instead 

so so cute 10/10 hairstyle he can do my hair 

anyways love this man thanks for coming home <3 

albedo

i had a feeling i would kind of have a hard time w albedo since he is a little hard to read so i hope this is ok LMFAO 

he has paint stains. everywhere. no you cannot change my mind. 

they are subtle tho i will give him that 

you can’t notice that anything is amiss until you really pay attention and then you’ll start to see the pretty pastels and greens of the sunset he was painting up on dragonspine softly smeared across his clothes 

very rarely you’ll see a cute swipe of paint across his cheek or neck and it’s honestly adorable 

he was probably pushing his hair out of his face while he was painting and some excess paint on his finger landed on his cheek :,) 

he doesn’t really care tbh he thinks it’s just a part of him and it really isn’t that noticeable so he just leaves it 

also!!! since he is a big alchemist and he’s constantly working on labs and experiments i think he would accidentally misplace a lot of his written work 

he seems very organized but w someone as intellectual as him w his brain running miles a minute, i’m sure he has definitely forgotten where he’s put stuff away 

so!! in order to help him remember, he has little notes across his lab detailing where everything is 

if he was working on something and he immediately has to put it on hold bc something came up (klee came in demanding attention or sucrose needs help) then he’ll quickly jot down a note and stick it to his desk so he’ll remember when he comes back just in case he forgets 

sucrose as a result has noticed A LOT of notes across the lab and it’s simultaneously funny and endearing 

“started experiment with sweet flowers to try and turn them into a youth elixir: papers --> on the desk right next to klee’s photo” 

final point: he lets klee braid his hair sometimes if she wants to 

she doesn’t really know how given how young she is so she ends up messing up but albedo always walks her patiently through the steps again 

always makes time for klee no matter what bc he really does care a lot abt her :,) 

i love him sm pls