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lovifie · 11 months ago

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Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 5: Home Sweet Home

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

Aprox 5k words

W: Captain Price x Reader x Kyle Garrick (the poly 141 is building).

“I honestly think this is an improvement from your flat.” Ghost comments leaving your bag on a chair. “It is sad, but it's true.”

And he is right. The safehouse you have been assigned to is not ugly, it is just… artificial. Decorated to look lived in, but you know it isn't. Photos of people you don't know on the walls, books you haven't read and blankets you can tell are going to be itchy. But no one can trace you back here.

Ghost drove you here, Price made Soap and Gaz stay with him to have a chat with them. Chat, you are glad to be able to avoid, at least for now.

The safe house is not too far away from the base, but still enough not to be linked to it. It is a nice neighbourhood, better than your last one, it makes you want to go for a walk.

“Try to always stay inside, alright?” Ghost tells you sitting beside you. He caresses your thigh looking at your face. “I know it sucks to be stuck inside, but this whole thing would lose its purpose if anyone sees you leaving or entering the house.”

“So I can’t never leave the house?” You ask looking down. His gloved hand still caressing your thigh, and your hands find their way to it, playing with the fabric of his glove.

“You can, just need to be careful. But never alone, unless it is an emergency. Please, if Price hears you are wandering around alone he'll have a stroke.” He chuckles, stops moving his hand and instead puts the palm up letting you play with his hand. “You should have seen him yesterday when he woke up.”

“Was it that bad?” You ask, guilt flooding your heart at the mental image of Price panicking because of you.

Ghost nods. “He thought that we were pulling a prank on him, that we have you hidden. He made us show him our room, and then he went to look all around the base. Until I showed him the security footage of you leaving he didn't stop looking around.”

“I feel like an asshole.” You admit, unable to look at him and focusing on your hands together with his. Your fingertips find their way inside the glove and you begin to caress the palm of his hand mindlessly.

“It was a pretty asshole move.” Ghost chuckles looking down at your hands. “But I can understand why you would do it, everyone else too. No one blames you for doing it, birdie. You know that, right?”

It is then that you notice the current situation, Ghost is sitting side by side with you. Thigh pressing yours, one of his hands is on your lap with your own hand inside his glove caressing his skin, feeling the warmth. His other arm is resting on the back of your chair, and his hand find its way to your jaw, caressing your cheek with his thumb and moving your head to look at him.

He is wearing a basic black balaclava, no paint around his eyes, and you can see his blonde lashes for how close he is to you. Unconsciously, you look to where you know his lips are and you notice movement under the mask, he is smiling. He sighs and presses his forehead with yours. “C’mon, birdie. I made a promise this morning, don't make me break it so fast.”

“A promise?” You ask curious as you look back to the hands on your lap.

“Yeah, to Price. You are not supposed to know it.” He chuckles. “I shouldn’t tell you.”

And you shouldn't push it, you should be nice. But you are nosy and he hasn't said no jet. So you look up to him, through your lashes and ask softly. “I won't say anything… please?”

He groans closing his eyes and pulls his head back looking ahead of you. “How can I say it?” He pulls the hand from behind your head to rub his face. “Price and I talked last night, about how since we met there has been an… attraction between all of us.”

“Okay.” You agree, feeling a light blush rise on your face.

“And we talked about how we did a poor attempt at having control over it. And how we basically jumped you, and that was wrong of us, like, you were literally handcuffed when you were with Gaz.” He says sighing, feeling embarrassed with himself. “And I definitely shouldn't have done it the way I did.”

“It's okay.” You admit, still unable to look at his face. “I didn't complain… wait.” You say finally looking up at him. “You knew Gaz and I were…”

“Humping each other like teenagers? Yeah, I noticed.” He says chuckling when he sees your shocked expression. “Birdie, I took the car for maintenance the next morning to check the car's suspension because of how many potholes and curbs I hit. And you think I didn't do it or purpose?”

You cover your face with your hands chuckling in embarrassment, Ghost hugs you from the side bringing you close to his chest making you feel the vibrations from his laughs. “Are you getting shy now, birdie?” He asks and you nod, unable to answer. He then gets close to your ear and whispers: “You weren't shy when I had my tongue up your ass.”

You shriek slapping his arms to get away making him laugh with his whole chest and when you manage to get up, he grabs your hips keeping you within arm's reach. “Let me go, I'm going to sleep.” You say trying to keep some kind of pride.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, was just playing.” He says standing up and hugging you again. “Just like how I played with your clit.”

“Shut up!” You exclaim, heating up, whether it is from embarrassment or something else, is not important right now. He laughs again and drops a kiss on the top of your head as a peace offering: “Go to bed, birdie. I'm sure you didn't get much sleep last night.”

You slap his arm one last time before walking down the hall, but he calls you again making you turn: “Take this, is a burner phone, so no one can track you through the phone. Price, Soap, Gaz and my number are already on. If you need to send anyone else a message or something, we will send it through your phone back at base, the antenna back at the base makes it impossible to track.”

You take the phone from his hand and slap your forehead when you see the time. “I need to call my boss!”

“About that, you don't have to worry about it. You are now on a witness protection system, so you actually can't just go. Price is going to talk to him, and he will figure it out. Price will take care of it, don't worry.”

You nod, not completely convinced, and after getting a kiss on your forehead you get inside the room, ready to sleep.

A couple of hours later, the clatter of pans and dishes wakes you up. You look at the time and realise you have slept almost all morning, so you stretch still on the bed, stand up, wash your face in the bathroom and make your way to the kitchen when you are met with Kyle's back.

“Morning.” You say smiling walking up to him. He whips around looking disproportionately scared by the situation and you look at him confused.

“Fuck sake, doll. We gotta get you a bell or something, almost shit myself.” He says with a hand on his chest and you laugh at him.

“That's what you get for being a snitch!” You exclaim putting your hands on your hips.

A perfect smile appears on his face that gets you weak on your knees, and he cups your face still smiling. Dammit, pretty boy. “I just couldn’t help it, luv. You look irresistible when you are flustered.” He says giving you a peck on your cheek. “Are you hungry? I brought you some groceries and bought you lunch.”

You look over his shoulder to check what he bought, and satisfied with his choice you bit the bait of his peace offering. “You are safe for now.”

The safe house is far from a mansion, but still, it is much better than your flat. More than one person can fit into the kitchen, there is a sofa and an armchair in the living room with a TV on a coffee table. Down the hall, there are two rooms and a bathroom with an actual bathtub inside. So yeah, a lot better than the old one.

Kyle and you have lunch on the sofa, and after you both stay seated basking in each other company. You can't help but stare at him and think about the first time you were close to him.

In just the last two days, you have grinded yourself against Kyle's dick, kissed and gotten yourself eaten out and fingered by Price, gotten your ass eaten and pussy fingered by Ghost and kissed and throat fucked by Soap.

Truly an interesting Tuesday.

It's not like you had never done those things before, but still, before them, it has always happened after a relationship was built and not in the order it happened that's for sure.

Fooling around with Kyle was rejuvenating, you are not even old, but still, it felt like fooling around with your first boyfriend. Horny enough to need to feel each other but not ready still to face the vulnerability of getting naked in front of each other.

With Price, he made you feel like a fucking goddess. As if he should be the one thanking you for eating you out. You could hear him moan against your cunt and there was not a centimetre of skin he didn't kiss that night. Such a soft way to make love it almost didn't make sense how nasty he make out with your pussy that night.

Simon was the opposite like a professor teaching a bratty student their place. Any of these men could have you on your knees begging if they put their mind into it, but Simon made you want to act up. Pull his string and step on his nerves. He left you so vulnerable, completely naked and exposed to him, and still, there was not a second where you didn't feel safe.

And Johnny. Oh, sweet, sweet Johnny. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him again. Something about the way he whined your name when you had only barely touched him, the way his pupils almost got a heart shape when you kneel before him.

But that little shit had a big mouth, not that he meant to cause harm, you know that. Unlike Gaz, the second little shit truly was striking for gold this morning. And now, he was sitting on the other side of the sofa, with your feet on his lap looking all innocent and completely unbothered by everything.

So calm.

It bothered you.

Little shit doesn't deserve peace and calm.

Little shit deserves a kick on his balls.

But just when you are about to, you remember his face last night when he saw you enter the mess hall, looking terrified and like a wounded puppy. He looked so worried, and he hugged you so warmly. So the kick doesn't arrive, instead, you plant the heel of your foot right on his crotch forcing a grunt out of him.

“Easy, luv” He says rubbing your ankles.

“You deserve worse.” You say looking at his face as you keep pushing around.

“Rude, why do you say tha-at?” He asks half moaning the last word.

“You were going to rat me out this morning.” You answer beginning to move your foot up and down his growing erection.

He closes his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa. “You just look so delicious when you are flustered, doll. Couldn't help myself, would you forgive me?”

“I'm not sure yet, I'm still deciding.” You respond, pressing with a bit more force on his tip earning a moan from his throat.

“Take all the time you need.” He mumbles as he starts to move his hips against your feet.

Confusion floods your brain for a second, Ghost couldn't even kiss you this morning because he had given his word to Price but Gaz was happily humping your feet for his satisfaction.

Did Price don't make him promise? No, that doesn't sound logical. Kyle was the one who started everything, Price must have made him promise more than everyone else. Kyle simply doesn't care about it.

Price won't like that.

If only Price got to know Gaz had broken his promise.

There it is, your kick on his balls.

Figuratively.

For now.

You sit up, removing your feet momentarily earning a whine from Gaz at the loss. He looks at you with a pout on his face, cheeky bastard. It only lasts until he sees you undo his belt, and then a boyish smile appears on his face.

He reclines with a smug smirk on his face and looks up to you as you get his growing boner free. You lick a thick strip of spit into your hand and start to stroke his dick slowly. You look at his face and he looks back delighted.

“If you treat me like this every time I bother you, I'm not stopping ever, luv” He says between whispered moans.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” You ask chuckling.

“When my mouth is busy.” He admits, licking his bottom lip and leaving his mouth half open so moans can slip easily.

“It's that so?” You ask, and with your free hand you raise your t-shirt exposing your tits with a little bounce that Gaz doesn't miss by the way his dick twitch in your hand.

“Fuckin’ hell, luv.” He says beginning to move his head, but you pull his hair back and pressed your tit against his head which he gladly begins to suck onto making you groan softly.

“Much better.” You sigh closing your eyes enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth against your nipple, you move your hand from his head down to his jaw caressing it and feeling the muscles of his jaw flex as he makes out with your boob.

Slowly and shamelessly, Gaz's hand find its way down your back. He doesn't bother to play coy, and as soon as the hand reach your waist, it goes under your pants and your underwear grabbing a handful of your ass cheek making you whine.

You press your thumb and index in his cheek, pressing between his teeth forcing him to open his mouth and say: “Play nice or I won't play with you, Garrick.”

He smiles at you as much as he can with his cheeks pushes and sticks his tongues out to lick your nipple. “Yes, ma'am.”

You could still kick him, literally. It would be faster and it'll probably erase the stupid smug smile from his face. But patience is a virtue.

So you shove his face against your boob again, and sigh when you feel his fingers travel down your lips. He moans when he feels your wetness just for your disgrace, the last thing you needed was to grow his ego. He slips them between your lips, gathering up the wet arousal pooling on your panties. He moves then to the front and begins to rub your clit with his fingertips.

There is precum leaking from his tip, and you bring your fingers up to press your thumb against his slip and circle it, smearing his precum around it, making him moan.

“Let's go to the bed, Kyle.” You half mumbles half moans.

“Let me just do it here, doll. Inaugurate the living room” He mumbles against your skin. You slap him on the back of his head and stand up.

“I'm planning on having most of my meals on this sofa, so get up.” You argue pulling his hand.

“If you are still hungry, I have something you could eat.” He jokes as he stands up, making you look at him with a grimace look on your face making him laugh.

“Don't ever say anything like that, Kyle. For god sake.” You say shaking your head as you walk your way to the room. You open the door and quickly take the rest of your clothes. You look back at Gaz who is looking at you a bit stunned and you chuckle. “I think it would make it a lot easier if you took off your clothes.”

He pulls his t-shirt from the back of his head throwing it somewhere, and gets rid of his clothes as he walks up to you. When he was almost bent over himself on the sofa, whining around your boob, it was easy to get confident and boss him around. Now, with both standing up and as he gets closer to you, you need to look up because of the size difference. He notices it too, how you start to speak softer and your expression is kinder.

He chuckles to himself, positioning his hands under your arm and effortlessly throws you back on the bed, crawling over you instantly. You try to sit up, leaning on your elbows but a firm hand on your chest gets you flat on the bed soon.

You look up to him and see him cock his head like a dog. “What?” You ask and it makes him smile with that fucking toothpaste ad smile. “There it is, I thought you lost your voice. You went silent so suddenly.” He teases.

“Oh, shut up, Kyle.” You say chuckling and pinch his nipple making him chuckle as well. For a second you stay chuckling, looking at each other and enjoying the opposite company. Until suddenly it feels a bit too intimate, and almost at the same time, you make eye contact feeling shy regardless of the lack of clothing.

So you cup his face with both hands and pull him close kissing him on the lips. If he can’t see the affection in your eyes, he can't accuse you of anything.

He caresses your hip, drawing circles with his thumb as he slowly reaches your mount and you slightly spread your legs involuntarily.

“Eager little thing.” He mumbles against your lips smiling, and you bite back: “I can feel you leaking onto my thighs, Kyle. Don't get cocky.”

He chuckles under his breath and without more preamble one of his finger finds his way inside your cunt as he uses the palm to rub your clit making you moan. Wet kisses travel down your throat when you move your hands to the back of his face, his finger’s movement becoming faster and not for long before a second one finds his way inside as well. You lower one of your hands to rub his erection against your tights, feeling the wet spot at his tip growing.

Fuck does it feel good to be desired.

Little moans of your name leave Kyle's mouth against your neck giving you goosebumps and causing you to squirm in his hand needy of more.

“Kyle… please” You moan throwing your head back.

“Not yet, doll. I wanna see you come as prettily as you did on the car again before I get my dick inside this little tight cunt.” He groans against your cheek.

You moan at his crude words arching your back, twisting your face to kiss him. Teeth clashing in the process, but too desperate to care. The band on your stomach snaps almost surprising you, and for a second you can hear your ears ring. Kyle’s hand is still rubbing your clit, but almost like a feather now helping you ride out your orgasm.

You make eye contact with him, checking on you to see if you are alright and when he is satisfied he sits up, pulling you closer circling your legs around his slim waist and palms his erection; rubbing your clit with his tip. “Are you all right, luv? Need another second?”

“Fuck me already, Garrick” You tease propping yourself up on your elbows.

Kyle smirks at you and slowly enters his dick stretching you out; he leans down closer to your face and you both moan on each other mouth as he enters. Slowly enters, and then draws back, just to enter a bit more. Little by little, as he kisses your mouth passionately. Your hands on his back slightly scratch his skin making him groan softly between moans, his tongue enters your mouth caressing your own.

This all started as a way to get Gaz in trouble, but honestly, you are starting to hope it doesn't work. Just so you have to try again.

“Fuck, doll. Such a sweet lovely cunt” He mumbles, already losing his mind, punctuating each word with a roll of his hips. “Sucking me in so fucking nice.”

It shouldn't turn your own as much, such crude words, but you are not really thinking clearly and every word that leaves Gaz’s mouth is like a compliment to your core that makes you clench against his dick.

“Do you like that, doll?” He asks against your neck dropping little open mouth kisses. “Hm? When I tell you how fucking godly you feel, luv?”

“Yes, fuck, yes” You moan back, curling your legs and pushing him closer, wanting him to go deeper as if you were not feeling him up to your cervix already.

His hand found its way down to your clit, circling it with his fingertip, making you meowl at the sudden extra stimulation. You can feel your orgasm approach, and you open your eyes to look at Kyles's face.

But when you open your eyes, the first thing you see is Price leaning against the doorframe; cigar in hand, a disapproving look on his face and a formidable hard erection on his pants. You lock eyes with him, a shameless smile creeping in and making Price shake his head with a similar smile on his face.

The focus quickly moves back to Gaz when he starts to thrust more shallowly, rubbing your clit quickly. “Cum for me, please. I wanna feel you come around me, please, please, doll, please.” He moans against your skin, and completely ignoring Price's presence, you come undone in harmony with Gaz.

Little black dots blur your vision for a second because of the surprising pleasure, almost missing the way Gaz moans your name we come undone following you. You are not sure if you are seeing or imagining when you see Price walk out of the room, and when you try to raise your head to see you come face to face with Gaz. “You okay, luv?” He asks with heavy breathing looking at your face and smiling.

You nod at him smiling, simmering in the afterglow of your orgasms. Only breaks away when something drops next to your head on the bed.

Gaz and you turn to look at Price who is now standing behind Gaz. “Shit.” Gaz mumbles trying to peel away from you, only for Price to press a hand on his back pushing him back against you making you both groan since Gaz is still inside you.

“No, no, please, don't stop on my behalf. I wouldn’t like to bother you.” He says dryly, no vestige of humour in his voice.

Gaz looks at you, making eye contact for a second until both of you turn to look at whatever it was that fell next to you, and when you see the lube bottle it finally sinks in what the two of you have just done.

Both of you quickly try to look at him, kind of guilting the other to not get the short side of the stick. “Settle down you pair of brats.” Price says, he sits on the back of Gaz’s thighs, pressing him deeper making both of you softly moan again. He uncaps the bottle, pouring a fat blob of it in his fingers and pulling Gaz’s hair back making him arch his back once he throws the bottle back. “Unlike this brat, I’m not gonna fuck you, birdie. But the two of you put on such a show that has me in need of some… release.” He says while he caresses Gaz’s hole with his fingertips, getting through the muscle ring as he enunciates the last word.

“Shit, Captain…” Gaz moans, feeling your cunt clench when you feel his dick twitch back to life for a second time. “Don’t “Captain” me now, Kyle. What about your truce? Did any of my words get to your head or was all your blood down on your dick when I was talking to you?”

Gaz is not the only one getting the reprimand, a new cocktail of feelings is developing inside you. There are some hints of shame, the shame of getting caught mid-orgasm, the shame of Price barely acknowledging you at all, and the shame of feeling like you are intruding on whatever arrangement they had before you came into the picture. Again, the little self-aware thoughts that permanently reside in your mind appear, making you aware of the situation.

A loud moan from Gaz brings you out of it before they can materialise, and you come face to face to the fuck out face of Price after bottoming inside of Gaz. Having sex with Gaz was gentle, with more roll of hips and deep thrusts; but Price? He is obviously annoyed with the both of you, and his hard and fast thrusts are proof of it.

You can feel Gaz’s dick hardening inside you stretching you again. And even though he isn’t physically pulling in and out, Price's thrust forces his hips to roll against you giving you a delicious constant stimulus both inside and against your clit. That, joint with the fact that Gaz is moaning in such a filthy way against the skin of your neck quickly has you moaning in tandem with him. Bitting your lips to quiet them, feeling like they are not wanted, like you are just collateral damage to Price and Gaz's little get-together.

You force your eyes close when you feel Price look at you, he furrows his eyebrows when he notices you looking uncomfortable. Are you not enjoying it? Why do you turn away from him?

He switches his rhythm, caressing Gaz’s hips with a hand and bending down to cup your face with the other. He grazes your bottom lips freeing from your bite and drops his thumb inside your mouth making you lick it. He drops down to your ear to whisper: “Don't run from me, sweetheart. Not again, please.”

He raises his hand on Gaz's hips to hug him on his chest, pulling him close to him, and biting him on his shoulder. With what little space that earns Gaz, he begins to move between you and Price, earning a moan from everyone in the room.

It is such a filthy scene, so porn-worth, still, there is such a palpable sense of care from everyone involved. Fuck, the moment they get bored of you it's going to hurt like a bitch.

“I can't!” Gaz moans, the overstimulation getting the best of him. Poor boy getting his prostate destroyed and his dick milked at the same time. You can't barely manage yourself, you pity him. But again, that's what he gets for snitching.

“Yes, you can. And you will.” Price moans against his neck, and at the same time he drags his hand down your body just to rub your clit causing a chain reaction when you clench for the reaction, causing Gaz to groan and clench as well.

Is not much longer until you feel Gaz finish inside you for a second time, drooling against your shoulder skin while he hugs you needy of something to ground him. You quickly hug him back when you feel yourself spilling over the edge, and just a couple of seconds later Price finishes as well inside of Gaz.

He drops himself over the two of you earning a groan from you for being squished by both men, but you only get a chuckle in return from the both of them. “At least like this, we know you aren’t going to go running again.” Gaz murmurs against your skin only for you to hear, warming your heart.

“The two of you are gonna give me a headache, I just know.” Price mumbles kissing his bite mark on Gaz’s shoulder while making eye contact with you. “Get washed, dressed and come down to the living room. We have a little meeting the five of us.”

When he goes to sit up, you quickly grab his shirt pulling him close and ask softly. “Can we stay like this for a little more, please?” The neediness and clinginess being too hard to ignore.

Kyle and Price look at you as if you are the most precious thing on the whole planet and quickly nod going back to the weird body pile you were on. “Yeah, of course we can.”

Heyaa, how are you? 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

Taglist: @pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline @shadowtfpcod @infpt-zylith @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3 @tooloudarts @dontworryboutitokie @cassiecasluciluce @sodavrr @missmidnight-writes @anirok2

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boltonbritreads · 4 months ago

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🗣️Eddie Munson Fic Recs

This is gonna have a sappy start before I get into the fic rec portion: but I just wanted to say that at the end of May 2022, I was finishing up my first year of law school. It was rough, challenging, lonely, and basically everything you’d expect and I was in a bad place and the fandom I’d been in was slowing down just naturally. I truly wish I could remember how I even became aware of Eddie Munson because stranger things wasn’t really on my radar anymore and whoever I followed at the time that started to veer off into Eddie-mania, thank you. In the two years since then, I’ve graduated and become the worlds babiest lawyer and I genuinely owe a lot to this fandom and community on here for giving me a fun, usually safe, creative place to escape to when it got rough.

I’m just hoping to maybe remind people that there are already an incredible, incredible amount of existing stories to read and talk about that deserve your attention and love if you’re looking to read some Eddie stories. Some of these will be fics I’ve recommended before but I’m going to try my best to pull together writers and fics that I love and think everyone should read in the hopes that someone like me who still scrolls through eddie tags looking for my nightly bedtime story can find something new to them to read! ✨

Previous Fic Rec list here!! some overlap but there’s no such thing as too much hype for these writers

@munson-blurbs I hope it’s ok but I’m linking Bug’s full masterlist here because I have genuinely loved everything she has written. There are blurbs, series, and special events which are all incredible and worth a read! Bug is currently still writing the “Living after Midnight” series which is my current obsession and features rockstar!eddie x motelheiress!reader and it’s angst and lust galore

@corroded-hellfire also sharing the Eddie Masterlist here because there’s so many fics to read!! As You Wish, Big Brown Eyes, Where the Heart Is are all incredible but truly there’s so much here to enjoy

@upsidedownwithsteve SIMMER!! jk I’m actually linking the Eddie Masterlist here too because I love them all but “I Want You To Want Me” and “Simmer” are out of this world

@pinkrelish The Yes Policy I love it, you love it, we all love it and if you haven’t caught up yet oh my god I wish I was you and could read these chapters for the first time again

@ghost-proofbaby I’ve previously told people to go read 24 Hours, and you should, that’s an order; but Maroon is ongoing! and it’s actually infiltrating my every thought so go on over and get caught up bc I think it’s safe to say things are getting amped up

@trashmouth-richie I have also previously recommended Honey, I’m Home because it’s a work of art but Ziggy has a new mini series “Crash + Fall” that I’m completely obsessed with the concept for and I’ve loved every piece so far!

@tiannasfanfic I just reblogged Conviction again but I genuinely am not exaggerating when I say I think about this story and these two monthly and try and find this story all the time to re-read it endlessly. It’s a really lovely story of unplanned pregnancy and two characters not realizing they’ve been smitten for each other the whole time and I love it

@carolmunson I’m sharing another Eddie Masterlist here because I’d be making this post far too long but Carol’s stories are all incredible, complex, and honest. “Let’s go, don’t wait” just got updated and I had to read it like 3 times last night because it was too good to just read one and done

@rebelfell I just discovered Sarah’s blog after reading the most recent “Frenemy” fic and idk what I was doing wrong to not already follow her and not have already read her whole Masterlist but I’m linking the whole thing bc she’s so good!!

@the-au-thor I also only just discovered Elle’s blog and that’s criminal but thank god I found Babysitting Mun because I am a sucker for rockstar!eddie and this series has me on the edge of my seat rn

@storiesbyrhi I’m sharing the Masterlist folks because I have genuinely loved every single story and series and I have read them all now (some several times). So many of Rhi’s stories have a wonderful warm witchy vibe that I crave and I’ve read Siouxsie and the Soulmates, The Cabin in the Woods, Our Patron Saint of the Arts, Vintage Reeboks, and Burning Yarrow (insert screaming fan gif) multiple times now

@heart-eyed-love this fic is the epitome of a soft, cozy, domestic night with Eddie and if you need a hug read this 🥹

@eddieandbird I JUST got caught up on Eddie/Tour Manager series and I’m fully obsessed and desperate to know how they’re gonna navigate this - for folks new to the story, Eddie and his tour manager accidentally drunkenly get married- what could go wrong??

@eiightysixbaby the scream I scrumped when I finished reading Princess Leia, and Other Wishes - look bffs to lovers is already my absolute weakness on this earth but then you had to make it witty and funny and FLUFFY I just can do nothing but re-read and pine

@superblysubpar I’m still obsessed with this addition to The Boy is Mine writing challenge and oh god it’s so good 😩

…and while we’re talking about it - here’s the entire The Boy is Mine masterlist with an INSANE amount of incredible stories to read

@the-unforgivenn !!! tumblr hates me and deleted this bullet (so if you already saw this post, no you didn’t) but And I Need You to Know is a proper novel! I can’t imagine how much time, love, effort, planning, and work went into creating this insane and absolutely incredible world but everyone needs to read this!! and then follow up with She’s So Cold bc I love it and I am so reader

~~ this is not the end nor an exhaustive list! I just wanted to put something out there now that I plan to build on because I know I’m always scrolling and searching for new things to read or old things to revisit ♥️ ~~

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson au #eddie x reader

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needfantasticstories · 7 months ago

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“Many places I have been

Many sorrows I have seen

But I don't regret

Nor will I forget

All who took that road with me”

-The Last Goodbye by Billy Boyd

This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja, after 86 chapters, 300k words, and 10 months of joy, laughter, tears, heartbreak and love, has finally reached its end.

Adjuration is a tragedy that is nothing short of an act of love. That much is clear in the passion and dedication put towards the story, the characters, and the message Freyja is trying to convey. This fic will teach you about love. About death. About the inevitability of existence and why despite knowing it will all come to an end, there is still meaning in trying and hoping and loving each other. In loving yourself. You will laugh, you will cry, you will hope and you will despair as you read this story, but you will not be able to put it down.

It’s hard to say goodbye to something that has been so important to and loved by so many people. So we won’t. Instead, we will say thank you for this incredible journey and the community this fic has built. For the friendships that have been made and the endless inspiration you have given us. Thank you for wanting to tell a story, and for letting us join you around the campfire to listen.

Thank you.

(If you like Linked Universe and haven’t yet read Adjuration, see below for spoiler free reviews of this fic and artist credits.)

This is an Adjuration is the kind of story you fall in love with, the kind of story you think keep thinking about long after you put it down. The kind you keep finding hidden details in after you think you’ve got it figured out.

The characters are distinct and people with their own voices, motivations, relationships and histories. You’ll have your favourites but love them all. They influence how you’ll see the characters in everything else.

It’s full of moments where everything clicks and everything before is recontextualised in a way that’s so satisfying and make the whole story very re-readable. A time travel story where all loops are already closed, where you can know but not yet understand what will happen. It’s long, complex, and beautifully, meticulously planned and detailed. It’s clever and considered, funny and heartbreaking.

A story that whispers ‘it matters’ over and over. It is worth it to love, it is worth it if it doesn’t last forever, it is worth it to give someone a little more time, it is worth it to fight. It’s about loving others and your world and finding grace for yourself.

It’s loss and tragedy and the cruelness of fate. It is the sacrifice and the breaking.

Full of heart to both fill yours and break it in the best possible way.

It’s about love. Always.

By @toyouhellohowareyou

Sometimes, it’s hard to explain to others why art moves us.

I could tell you This is an Adjuration will make you cry, laugh, and sit at the edge of your seat in anticipation. And it’s probably true - I did all of that as I read, often with a coffee in one hand, early in the morning as I got ready for the day.

But that’s not the reason why I’m writing this.

The real reason is how it followed me during the rest of the day.

You see, at a certain point I realized this isn’t a story about Links going on adventures. Well, it does feature Links, and they do go on adventures, so let’s talk about that for a minute.

The first thing that caught my attention about this book was the characters. Each individual is unique, interesting, and exciting to follow. Not only are the Links individually compelling, but one thing that stands out in Adjuration is how the relationship between each Hero and their own worlds matter, and these connections shift, evolve, break and grow as the plot progresses.

Freyja does an incredible job of bringing together impactful storytelling with humor and heart. This is an Adjuration starts with an interesting premise, and then twists and turns in directions you wouldn’t expect. It’s rich in thought-provoking moments, soft joy and intense action, blended in with carefully crafted time travel and magic.

Adjuration sucked me into the world it builds, combining believable characters with fascinating stories, an unnervingly devious antagonist, plot twists, and lovingly crafted details that slip unnoticed until you’re surrounded on all sides. It made me cheer for characters I feel as if I’ve known intimately for years, made me worry for their safety as I would for that of a loved one, kept me hunting for hints and hidden references, pulling on a thread to try to find the end only for it to twist and loop into itself and show me a completely new side to the story.

Yes, This is an Adjuration is a fanfiction piece that explores the winding river flow of the Legend of Zelda timeline and how the stories of each Hero merge into each other. It also stands out for its heavy emotional content, and it doesn’t shy away from angst and hurt.

But to me, Adjuration is an epic journey that taught me how the choices we make, make us in turn. It’s a tragedy that deals with pain and healing, and it bares naked the non-linear nature of grief. It’s a celebration of the things that make us unique, of our flaws, an essay of the impact of little acts of love. Indeed, it’s a story about love.

I can tell you now, This is an Adjuration moved me. It still does. It has a special way to surface in my mind in unexpected ways at seemingly random times, from something as simple as tossing an apple core, to watching a lightning storm in the distance, or finding a picture of an old friend.

And every time, without fail, it makes me think about love.

By @sunny-porridge

This is an Adjuration is a wonderfully and beautifully crafted story about love, loss, and choice as the various incarnations of Link come together and travel through time. Freyja seamlessly weaves a tapestry of setup and payoff across different timelines and loops, in the best-constructed time travel plot I’ve ever seen on page or screen. Even at its surface, Adjuration is an emotional rollercoaster involving tragedy and the soft moments that make that tragedy worth it. But the deeper you look, the more meaning you can pull from every chapter of this amazing work. This work has made me cry, squeal with delight, and think more deeply about its themes all while having an absolute blast reading it. So in summary: READ IT. READ IT. READ IT NOW. YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT.

By @life-in-winter

While I love that every chapter is emotionally enthralling, with carefully woven, visceral tension you crave in any good story, yet Adjuration is more than that, and you feel it in the careful weave of each character and plot point. Nothing is lost or unanswered. It's the kind of story that, by the end, makes you stop and take a hard look at your own life. Are you appreciating the now? Are you savoring joy? Are you so wrapped up in fear that you can hardly take care of yourself? Do you know who you are?

This story is more like an external experience. It's riding atop a tsunami. How do you handle that ride, Link?

There aren't enough words to describe how amazing this fic is.

@needfantasticstories

Artist credit

Legend: @gia-d

Hyrule: @bittirsweeteer

Time: @toonblade

Sky: @noorahqar

Warriors: @whitewinterstar

Wild: @weavingstarlight

Twilight: @bluury2

Wind: @thewitchdoctor39

Four: @lunaopus

Red: @peepthatbish

Blue: @glowingmin

Green: @winterfen

Vio: @waterfallstream

Shadow: @deleetrix

Wolfie: @linkiscool333

Fierce Deity: @awildsilver

Ravio: @lele5429

Malon: @tooner-tastic

Dink: @passerinesoncaffeine

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pumpkinpaix · 4 months ago

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You have questions! We might have answers.

What is this collection?

As Maria puts it: this collection is a critical look at some of the things that we, the editors, think have made CQL such a hit around the world. Of course, part of that success comes from the webnovel MDZS and the show CQL themselves—we love the characters, the mystery, and the drama, who doesn’t?! However, the authors in our book also look at topics like translating danmei (both officially and unofficially), adapting danmei for new audiences, and interacting with fandoms and fanworks. The larger argument of the book is that all of these things played a huge role in CQL’s visibility and success, and we wanted to start making those moving pieces visible, especially for audiences who mainly watched CQL in translation.

You keep using the word “academic”—what does that mean, exactly?

Maria: Ok, not to get pedantic here, but this actually touches on some things that I’m really excited about for the book. Traditionally, academic work is written by people who have a deep expertise in the subject (signified by having a PhD and doing specific kinds of research), and then the work itself is peer-reviewed (i.e., sent to other experts in the field for them to evaluate whether it’s sound, original, and interesting enough to publish, without knowing who wrote it). And both of these things are true about our book—our authors have deep knowledge and the book was peer reviewed—but also. We specifically asked for chapters from younger scholars and from fans who also have deep knowledge about topics that academia doesn’t always know or value enough, and we include an interview from the fan-translator K. who did the Exiled Rebels translation. So the hope is that: this book is academic, and also—more!

Who are you?

Yue studies adaptation, fantasy, and popular culture texts using a feminist lens. She wrote an early, influential article about danmei adaptations and also has a book about feminist adaptations of Chinese fantasy.

Maria studies fanworks, contemporary fantasy, and genre literature. She’s scrambling to finish her dissertation right now.

How were the chapter spotlights chosen?

Voluntarily! The concept of a small social media promo was kicked around by some of the contributors and those interested in the idea filled out a short interview with what they wanted to share. We'll be posting about 2 introductions and 2 spotlights a day for the next week or so!

Who's running this social media campaign anyway?

Not the publishers! A few enthusiastic collection contributors got together and, with the assistance of the editors, have put this promotion together. We do not in any way represent Peter Lang in an official capacity! We just worked hard and wanted to share. :)

Are you making any money off of royalties from this book?

LOL not even remotely

What about this promotion?

also no. alas

Where can I find this book?

You can find our listing on Peter Lang’s website here. As for other retailers, a quick search should turn us up!

How can I access this book if I cannot buy it from Peter Lang / [book retailer of choice]?

As collection editors and contributors who signed a legal agreement with Peter Lang, we have granted Peter Lang exclusive right and license to edit, adapt, publish, reproduce, distribute, display, and store our contributions, and we must cooperate fully with the Publisher if the Publisher believes a third party is infringing or is likely to infringe copyright in the contribution.

That being said, these are academic papers, which means that contributors may make copies of the contribution for classroom teaching use! (These copies may not be included in course pack material for onward sale by libraries and institutions). Of course, any linking, collection or aggregation of chapters from the same volume is strictly prohibited.

(FAQ may be updated periodically!) (all posts on Catching Chen Qing Ling)

#MDZS #CQL #The Untamed #Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #Catching Chen Qing Ling #CQL academic collection #CQL CFP #Chen Qing Ling #Mo Dao Zu Shi #CQL meta #MDZS meta

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cherriesxinthespring · 10 months ago

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WASTELAND, BABY!– ellie williams x reader

hi! I'm writing a new series that happens after the events of TLOU II. it's an enemies to lovers. A story about ellie eventually finding happiness and love again. She finds her light; and so do you.

Before you read the summary– please read this. Free Palestine. Do not consume tlou fanfics without educating yourself about its zionist themes.

this story is only posted on ao3. read it here.

*SUMMARY: You had decided to give life one last try. That was it. After the events in The Last of Us Part II, Ellie decides that the only way to find peace is to turn herself in to the fireflies. She finds a lead; they tell her to find you, a young woman who wanders around with no purpose. When she eventually does, you refuse to tell her where the fireflies are; if she finds them, everything that you did in your past would've been for nothing.

You embark on a journey together, walking through rain, snow and through the darkest places this cruel world has to offer. What neither of you expect, broken and traumatized, is to find the light again in each other.

"For the world is Hell, and people are on the one hand the tormented souls and on other the devils in it." (Schopenhauer, On the suffering of the world)

LINKS: read it here. playlist.

C.W/GENERAL TAGS: enemies to lovers, AFAB reader, eventual smut, gun violence, ellie kinda kidnaps you?, suicidal ideation (both ellie and reader), r! is wounded, PTSD and trauma, triggering flashbacks. canon violence in the game, depression. overall heavy themes, but happy ending i promise!

CHAPTER 1: One last try. You encounter Ellie. She follows the trail of blood you were leaving. You refuse to give her the information she wants. So, she drags you through the entire state of Montana. "You’re bold for someone unarmed and bruised, with a gun pointed to their head"

CHAPTER 2: Courage, dear heart. A small flame inside you ignites. you finally have a purpose; to mislead her, and to escape from her. You come up with a plan, and that involves earning her trust. just enough until she becomes sloppy. But you can't let her see your skills; she might see you as a threat. That plan quickly goes to waste when you encounter a large group of clickers.

“I could kill you right now,” she said, holding your own knife against your throat. Her knuckles were white from how much force she was using. Her features were almost unrecognisable. “Then you’d break your promise,” you said. “Promises mean nothing in this world.”

CHAPTER 3: No one left to sing to The rain doesn't stop, so you and this strange girl are forced to stay inside the cave. You're feverish, disoriented. After a conversation in which she mentions the fireflies, you decide to go through her journal to find answers. And you do.

"Are you a firefly?" she asked, like she had just read your mind, or you were thinking out loud. “not a firefly,” you said. you held back a laugh, but she saw the flash of a smirk. You, the reason why they were gone after Salt Lake City, a firefly. “Definitely not.” you paused. “are you?” you asked. “No.”

CHAPTER 4– Your blinding light (flashback chapter)

Summer 2033, Boston QZ You waited for Hannah to come to you. Life in the QZ was simple for you; being confined in between four walls, listening to your mom's Beatles cassettes, and sneaking out past curfew. That is, until your mom slowly starts abandoning you. "Maybe Hannah was the only one you had, after all"

CHAPTER 5– This darkness i'm condemned to

Ellie and you finally reach the nearest town. And your plan is successful; you finally lead her to danger. What you failed to account for is that this danger can harm you, too.

“took them out right?" you said, trying to test the waters. Trying to sound lighthearted, but failing completely at it. "Damn right you did," she said.

CHAPTER 6– The injury of finally knowing

taglist: since i impulsively deleted my old account, i'm tagging my old taglist. it's still me! the bitch that wrote the abby greys anatomy AU! you can still join my taglist here

@kissesskittens @zahraaziza @uraesthete @elsvrse @lonelyfooryouonly @ximtiredx @ellabsprincess @spaceshipellie @machetegirl109 @sc0ttstre3ted @taylarxse @carmellie @mayfieldsz @brooklynvwilliams @rinarchy @elliesgffr @wannabwanted @ellabsweet @sapphic-and-sappy @imyour-favouritegirl @andersonsgirl @heyabimina @novadanversss @mulan-but-gay @lez-zuha @abbys-sweat-wife @maribelo-o @peppesgirl

if your name is crossed out, it means I can't tag you– please check your settings and follow these steps!

dividers by @saradika-graphics.

#ellie williams #the last of us #tlou ellie #tlou fanfiction #tlou part 2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #the last of us part ii #enemies to lovers #canon universe #wasteland baby

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reds-skull · 5 months ago

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Fanfic Recommendation: Multi-Chapter (completed)

Been a while since I've made one of these! Decided it's time to get into the biggest category I have...

These don't have any shared theme beside having multiple chapters and being completed, and they're both NSFW and SFW.

As always, make sure to look at the CWs and tags before reading, and if a link doesn't work, you're welcome to reach out!

[Some of these might be by authors I already recommended, you can find that list here]

Shotgun Sunsets, Desert Stars by noxmajor - Soap keeps disappearing. Ghost gets curious.

Chasing Ghosts and Dreams by TheEdwardianOne - Soap and Ghost finally do something about their feelings in a safehouse after a mission.

Give Me Hope & Let Me Down by MechanicalBones - Soap saves his idiot Lieutenant & there's a shit tonne of hurt-comfort & smooches.

Love Is Not An Act, It's A Habit by wodnica - Ghost and Soap got separated from their team, lost and alone. Ghost must reconsider how close his relationship with Soap really is.

The Devil You Know by Artaccountant1 - In order for life in the 141 to go on, Ghost had to die. He knew Soap wouldn't take it well, but he never expected him to end up like this. That mask was only supposed to be for special occasions.

It's cracked and it's scarred (but I would give you my heart) by FetteEule - After a mission gone wrong Ghost and Soap find themselves cut off from their team and have to work together to figure out what happened, all while navigating their growing feelings for each other.

when does a man become a monster by wellyesbutactuallyno - One of Makarov's men takes Ghost. Soap gets him back.

Pieces of You by FreeToWriteForMe - Soap slowly collects pieces of Ghost through his clothes or his weapons. Eventually, Simon gets something of Johnny's.

a Moth to a Flame by theidjits - Firefighter John MacTavish was eager to start his career. What he didn't expect when he was assigned to Station 141 was to fall for the elusive Lieutenant. (firefighters 141)

Trace Them Gently by Grangers_apprentice - There are a lot of reasons Ghost wears so many layers. Layers keep you warm. They keep you safe. They keep prying eyes and wandering hands away. Ghost has more reasons than most to want to keep his skin under wraps. [Restricted]

A Steady Beat in an Unsteady Time by Grangers_apprentice - Soap has been having dreams where Ghost dies, and comes up with an unconventional way of reassuring himself that his lieutenant is fine. (part 1 of the Heartbeat Series) [Restricted]

Blossoms by felicitous - Against his better judgement, John "Soap" MacTavish was in love with Simon "Ghost" Riley. And while he knew that Ghost could never, would never, love him back, he was happy to take whatever attention the man would give him, even if it killed him. (Hanahaki AU)

Remember Me (Please) by Darkflamej - Johnny winds up with amnesia and Ghost is struggling to keep them both alive while trying to balance the fact that he’s hopelessly in love with a man who doesn’t even remember him.

The Truth Comes Out by Darkflamej - Ghost is under the influence of a truth serum and is trying his best to not confess his love for Soap.

Mission: You by TheD - Soap keeps getting distracted recently by Ghost. They do something about it, leading to an entanglement that leads to complications in their relationship.

the human condition by bilbhoebangins - Ghost shows up to an anonymous hookup and finds a naked and blindfolded Johnny waiting for him. His sergeant is completely unaware of just who he's arranged to meet, and Ghost has to make a choice, between what's right, and what he so desperately wants.

Awake At Night by CYBERGUTS - A friends to lovers fic over 4 seasons.

Prank Call by Team_141_property - A prank call goes wrong, personal walls are ripped down, people get hurt, and feelings get confessed. [read the CW on this one especially]

Yes to Heaven by Apollos_Last_Prophet - Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish is declared K.I.A during a failed recon mission in 2017. His commanding officer, Captain John Price, takes the loss personally, but has no other choice then to move on. Five years later, Price fights an assassin with a familiar face. [the one and only]

Someday The Dust Will Settle by shadow_in_the_window - Panic was starting to flood Ghost's senses. Johnny had lost a lot of blood. He cleared his mind. There was no way he'd let Johnny die on his watch. Not now. Not ever.

A Sunrise In the Dark by [orphan_account] - “Don’t say that, Johnny.” Ghost spoke, his voice quiet. “Say what?” “That you’d take a bullet.” “I would, though.”

On Begged and Borrowed Time by goforblood - Soap MacTavish is the newest member of Task Force 141. Soap could not have foreseen the enigmatic lieutenant, Ghost, who threatens to turn everything on its head. Can he keep his burgeoning crush on the masked man a secret? Or will someone call his bluff?

Midnight Snacks by MireyaRowan - Ghost is forced to share a room with Soap for a few nights, greatly increasing his anxiety about his night terrors. He hasn't let anyone in the task force know how hard being idle is for him. Soaps makes a whole deal out of it to try and keep Ghost distracted from his past.

I Woke Up Underground by WispScribbles - Soap, Ghost, Price and Gaz are on a mission to take out Hassan's allies. It goes south when explosives cause the cave system to collapse, injuring and trapping the team.

A Little Death by CaptainMJ - Ghost dragged himself out of Vernon's grave to see that Roba hadn't left. Had waited to see if he'd manage to do it. Ghost never escaped and eventually they were successful in breaking him down and making him someone else. Kinda. Kinda successful.

Spoils of War by CaptainMJ - Ghost defeats Soap's kingdom and after splitting up the spoils, he takes Soap too. Soap expects the worst, but Ghost doesn't seem keen on doing anything to him. How long is that going to last?

Target Locked by MildLimerence - Soulmate AU: In a world where having a soulmark is a rare and forgotten phenomenon, finding your other half can be more a curse than a blessing. Soap joined the military intent on escaping the stigma of the mark, adamant he'd never find his soulmate.

Fucking new guy by glaciers (Hayfever_Street) - Soap joins Task Force 141, ready to prove himself as the best of the best. On his first day, he finds himself choked in the training room by a prick in a skull mask. Now Soap must deal with his growing attraction to his lieutenant, a sarcastic and cold-hearted man named Ghost, while at the same time proving to the 141 he's worthy of being there.

ripe and ruin by ghcst - It's August 1917, the rain doesn't seem like it will ever cease, and Soap starts to wonder if this war will ever end. He also has trouble trying to decide whether or not Lieutenant Simon Riley is really human. [WW1 AU, I recommend it even if you don't like the time period!]

Got your back, you got mine by WhiteBeakedRaven - five times Ghost did Soap a favor and the one time Soap had paid him back.

He Stuck Around For The Moon by escence - He’d been avoiding Ghost, planning on continuing to do so until he could sort out his thoughts and feelings regarding the man, preferably, shifting them into something less intimate. Evidently, he’d run out of time and Ghost had found a way to pin him down, literally and metaphorically.

The fever dream by glaciers (Hayfever_Street) - Ghost and Soap are back from a mission when Soap is struck down with a fever. Ghost navigates keeping his sergeant alive while coping with Soap unabashedly hitting on him, riling him up to bursting point.

Worth the Wait by trueheirofslytherin - Soap needs a sign that Ghost is interested in him. Ghost needs a sign that Soap is interested in him. One of them needs to take the initiative.

kiss the skin that crawls from you by congee4lunch - soap gets kidnapped. ghost tears through flesh and blood to get him back. amidst the carnage of a sinner's hands and in the absence of his god, he remembers what it means to love.

solemn prayer, poppy in my hair by congee4lunch - when soap invites ghost back home to scotland for a week, ghost hadn't imagined he would wind up in a fake dating scheme to trick soap's family, of all people. it also doesn't help that he's head over heels in love with soap, of all people.

Need You Now by SammyLuka - Alternatively, time in between missions makes Ghost realize that he doesn't know what to do without Soap. Thankfully, Soap understands.

Deep In The Fog by Crispyywheat - Soap is a big ol’ cryptid!! The 141 hunts down monsters/cryptids but Soap being a little idiot but also smart(?) decides to hide amongst the 141 as human. [I believe this one is currently being rewritten, the new work is called "Oh Weary Souls"]

I Didn't Need It, It Needed Me by starryathame - Ghost was wearing his balaclava, but he could feel his true mask slipping. He was becoming more Simon with every day Soap was around, and that knowledge terrified him. He hadn’t seen Simon Riley in the mirror in over a decade; he didn’t even know if he’d recognize himself anymore.

Affirmative, Sir by Wixiany - A mission goes wrong and both Soap and Ghost are left wounded. Back home, on his sick-leave, Soap's apartment gets broken into by the very men they were supposed to capture that day.

Wrap Your Arms Around My Cortex, Dig You In, and Let You Drain by [orphan_account] - Ghost returns to home base for the first time in four months and is unequipped to handle the growing emotions he feels toward a certain sergeant.

Say Yes To Me by [orphan_account] - Ghost gets held hostage and Soap saves him + the aftermath.

Pattern Breaker by mothbeast - A canon-compliant rework and extension of MW2: Reboot.

your finger on my hairpin trigger by lostReality - after Soap makes a few comments, about the mask, about sex, Ghost can't think of much else. And when Soap offers to fuck him after calling him pretty, why would he refuse?

earl grey skies by hyacinthwine - Johnny tries not to stare, but it’s difficult to tear his eyes away from the man. Really, there’s nothing that striking, he’s just an average Manchester man starting his day, yet Johnny wants to ogle just a little more. [coffeeshop AU]

Blinking by witchofsparkles - When Soap started seeing a very specific face with a skull mask and a pair of honey-brown eyes on his mirror and some glass, he thought he lost it good. Then it talked to him. [alternate dimension AU]

drag the lake and bring me home again by amongthebooks - During a stakeout mission in a remote area, Ghost is taken by the enemy. He's bound and thrown into a lake, and Soap has to scramble to get to him in time.

leave and liquor by your_wild_simp - Ghost is forced on a mental leave after a harsh mission. He crumbles, loses himself, has panic attacks and nightmares every time he remembers. But Soap is there, always there for him. Either through the phone, or physically rooming with him, Soap is there to help.

Between the Sand and the Stardust by tey_a - The one where soulmates leave marks on each other at their first skin on skin contact but feel drawn to each other before. Soap joins the 141 hoping to find a home in the form of a team. He finds it in the form of a man instead.

Six Feet Under And Quiet by snapple714 - Everyone in Soap's life has told him he's just too much. Not in the 141 though. But that can't last forever. He's bound to mess it up soon. It seems to happen on a particular mission, when Johnny gets trapped in a grave with a corpse. When the team realizes where they've made him wait for so long, they feel nothing but regret. Particularly Ghost, who is all too familiar with spending time underground…

Stubborn born by DepressoEspresso1000 - Soaps a fucking idiot and almost kills himself just to avoid medical leave, and Ghost is just as much of an idiot but he loves Soap and is not gonna watch him not care for himself.

If You Don't Stop, I'll End up Believing You by Hochseeperle - The new guy in the 141, Soap, doesn't have a filter when it comes to flirting. Ghost has no idea how to cope with that. He can't afford to lose face in front of his peers, so he decides to just… play along.

With Colours Over All The Wasted Years by kilikinnie - everyone owns a necklace that displays your soulmate's emotions through colours and their proximity through temperature. Ghost never expected to meet his, and Soap thought his was long gone.

(every scar will build my) Throne by Sillililli - Soap, the new leader of the MacTavish family mafia, is owed a debt by a family rivel. To repay him, Soap is given Ghost.

Keep The Change by hertzdonut - Soap's been shipped out to a safehouse in the Canadian Wilderness alone, except then Ghost shows up, but maybe Soap wasn't supposed to be shipped out in the first place? And Soap's been running on zero sleep and pure angst since they left Chicago. 'Tis the season.

real people by ghost_throat - ghost is struggling with his recent discharge from military service and doesn't hold much hope for his future. his former captain secured him a job at a coffee shop with a stupid name and annoying colleages and customers. [Restricted]

The ghost lingering in your shadow by arkinh - It took only a few weeks before objects seemed to move around without Soap remembering moving them. Lights were switched on or off by themselves, or flickering as he passed by them. For the first time in his life, he doubted his beliefs. Perhaps he should have left room for the possibility that it was all real?

What's The Name? by AvaLoren - John MacTavish is late to the coffee shop he works at after a late night argument with his girlfriend the previous night. He can't shake the memory playing on a loop in his head until a voice snaps him out of it. The customer before him has him fumbling for words and smiling like crazy. [another coffeeshop AU]

The Wind Will Howl Your Name by Minimelo - After a hunt goes wrong, John finds himself in the care of Ghost. [medieval AU, so so so good]

Cave In by glaciers (Hayfever_Street) - Ghost and Soap are forced to abandon a mission after the rain washes them out. They take shelter in a cave while they wait for the storm to pass, except this storm is sitting over them and won't budge. As night falls, the cave cracks, and they find themselves trapped. It wouldn't be a problem, except Soap is panicking, and Ghost is struggling to calm him down.

Burbon Soaked Letters by FreeToWriteForMe - Soap began finding letters full of threats and extremely personal information about his family and loved ones. He desperately hides it from his team while trying to find out the identity of his stalker. [the MCD tag on this one doesn't apply to the 141]

Safety Hazard by Red_Clegane - Soap is the adoptive son of President Price, but he’s hard to contain and a security risk. He’s never had a secret service agent last more than a few weeks. So, when Special Agent Ghost and his team are brought in to babysit, he thinks it’ll be another few weeks of fun. But a traitor is lurking in the Whitehouse and while Ghost protects Soap from himself, Simon will need to protect Johnny from something far more insidious.

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #fic recs #not art #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #this ended up being... 60 fics #for reference im on page 41 out of 196 of my list #it will take me a while to finish the multi-chapters... obviously...

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thinkinonsense · 5 months ago

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Magnetic ──★ Logan Howlett x fem!oc: Chapter Two

╰┈➤Summary: After years of torture, Daphne decides how she wants to spend the rest of her life; at the bottom of a lake. Out of nowhere, Logan pulls Daphne from the water and finds her help. Now they must navigate how to live with their decisions.

╰┈➤C/W: mentions of death, suicide, cursing, age gap, mild violence, issues with infertility, slight sexual themes.

ᯓ★ mdni.ᐟ

ᯓ★word count: 1.7k+

ᯓ★ spotify playlist link

ᯓ★ last chapter here

ᯓ★next chapter here

ᯓ★ A/N: Thank you all for the support on the last chapter. It means a lot and I hope everyone liked it :) Apologies for this chapter being shorter. I am still trying to figure out the direction of this fic but I am excited to see where it goes! Also, reply if you would like to be added to the tag list <3

✮⋆˙ The sun peaking through navy curtains blinds Logan. He wasn't much of a morning person compared to his peers. It's not like he got much sleep anyway. Most nights, he lays awake smoking a cigar or drinking a beer while trying to fight off his tiredness. Nightmares plagued his mind constantly. Often varying between ones of Stryker's torture or a mission gone wrong. Logan knew in the back of his mind that none of it was happening but that didn't stop them from appearing.

By ten most of the students had cleared out of the cafeteria after breakfast. Logan heads downstairs to get whatever is left over when he sees Rogue sitting alone, staring out one of the windows into the courtyard.

"How you doin', kid?" Logan asked, taking a seat across from her.

"Good, you?" Rogue's head turns to acknowledge him.

"Fine," Logan mumbles, taking a bite from an apple.

Rogue examines him for a moment. Logan's cold exterior was nothing new for the teenage girl, but his furrowed brows and low grunts led her to believe something was wrong.

"You don't seem fine." She quips, only receiving a glare in response. "Alright, I guess you're fine."

Her attention turned back to the courtyard. Logan's eyes followed hers until they landed in the garden. Storm and Daphne sat on one of the benches together. Charles must've wanted someone to give her a tour, Logan thought. He doesn't fail to notice his flannel draped over Daphne; unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up to her mid-forearm. If Rogue noticed the familiar-looking flannel, she didn't mention it.

"The new girl is pretty." Rogue states as if it is solely fact and not an opinion.

Logan only offers a grunt in response. He couldn't deny that Daphne's beauty was obvious. She didn't need magic to make people believe it.

"Everyone thinks so..." Rogue continues on. "especially the boys."

Logan wanted to laugh at the thought of any of the boys attempting to approach Daphne. Not only would she intimidate them shitless; she seemed like she could put up a fight without having to rely on her powers.

"Bobby overheard Dr. Grey mention that the new girl's powers are strong. Is it true?" The teenager's eyes light up with interest.

Logan hesitates then says, "Yeah, they are."

"She said the girl can make you feel agonizing pain. Dr. Grey said it was miserable. Did she hurt you at all?"

The last thing that Logan wanted to do was have Daphne come across as some scary mad woman who hurts people for laughs.

"She used her powers, yes," Logan quickly added, "But Daphne was startled and didn't remember anything."

Rogue nods understandably.

"Was it bad?"

"I've felt worse pain."

──★

After Storm's tour of the school, Daphne heads back to her room. Classes were in session on the other wing of the mansion. Everyone seemed busy with their daily routines as they passed her by. Halfway down the hall, she felt a light glove-covered hand tap on her shoulder. When Daphne turns around, she sees a girl with blonde stripes in the front of her hair.

"Hi, I'm Rogue." The girl introduces herself with a small smile. "You're Daphne, right?"

"Yeah," Daphne responds, caught off guard.

"Could we talk?"

The two girls sit in one of the common rooms together. Daphne was shocked by how comfortable Rogue seemed around her. Surely by now, they would have warned the students about her, Daphne would've thought.

"Logan pulled you from the lake yesterday, right?" Rogue asked despite already knowing the answer.

It was the biggest gossip the school has had in a while. Could you blame them? Logan practically busted through the doors, yelling for the professor. The classes were interrupted, everyone trying to peek out the door and into the hallway to get a glimpse of the woman in his arms. No one had even heard from Logan in months. The last anyone knew he took off with Cyclops motorcycle and now he has returned holding a stranger.

"He did." Daphne nods. "I'm still not quite sure why, but I am thankful nonetheless."

"Logan is a good guy behind that 'big bad wolf' thing he has going on," Rogue says to ease Daphne. It works.

"I thought it was more of a kitten look than a wolf." She jokes, causing both of them to laugh.

"He kinda saved me too a while ago." Rogue finally tells Daphne. "I had just discovered my mutation; it put someone I cared about in the hospital. So, I ran away. Logan was a cage fighter when we met. I needed a ride and hopped into his trunk until he found me."

Daphne tried to imagine a slightly younger and scared version of Rogue going to a man like Logan for safety. She wondered what led the teenage girl to run away in the first place.

"Cage fighter?" Daphne questioned, trying to ignore the heat rising within her.

Rogue nods.

Interesting.

"I guess what I am trying to say is that I know what it's like to have people be afraid of you." The girl's tone was sorrowing as she removed one of her gloves. "To avoid others because of the possibility of putting them in danger. All it takes is one touch or one look, and their lives could be destroyed. It's not fair."

Daphne had never met another mutant who understood that. A small weight was lifted from her shoulders at the younger girl's words.

"Not fair indeed," Daphne whispers under her breath. "I know what it's like to destroy lives..."

Rogue hesitated before asking, "What happened?"

"There was a guy, one of the guards in charge of me, and over the years, he became the only person I could trust and they knew that," Daphne explained. "One day, they killed him unless I wiped out an entire town of people. So, I did it and in the end, it didn't even matter because they shot him in front of me."

Even after all these years, her heart still breaks at the memory of his lifeless and bloody body hitting the floor; all the people she killed in hopes of saving the man she loved. All of it for nothing.

"Perhaps it was for the best..." Daphne said quietly. "Not everyone gets a soulmate."

"There's still hope," Rogue shrugs. "You never know."

Daphne lets out a small choked laugh at the girl's optimism.

"They cursed me, dear. No one will want to get too close to me. It's in my nature to hurt them."

──★

Later that evening, Daphne finds herself down in the library. It's empty, allowing her some time alone. She wanders around, pulling books from the shelves. While locked away, she was allowed to read in her spare time. One of her limited freedoms. Luckily for her, no one came to bother her for hours.

As time passed by her so did nightfall. Daphne enjoyed the quiet corner of the mansion as she avoided the other mutants living there. Not that any of them were unfriendly, far from it. She didn't see the need to grow attached to another false reality.

Daphne's eyes slowly weigh down as they skim across the pages. It wasn't even midnight yet. She could still hear the others walking by or talking in the hallway. When the door creaked open, she jumped from her chair.

"Oh! Sorry! I didn't know someone was in here." A male voice says from the other end of the room.

"I was just leaving," Daphne responded, shoving the book she was reading under her arm.

The man came into view, tall, dark-haired, and sporting a pair of what looked like sunglasses. He had this boyish look about himself, unlike Logan who was practically an animal.

"No, stay! Please." He insisted, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to interrupt. Just returning something I borrowed from the professor."

Daphne hesitated before letting out a soft, "Okay."

He smiles and moves closer to her.

"I'm Scott." He said, introducing himself and extending his hand to her.

"Daphne."

"Pretty name."

Scott already knew who she was; having seen Jean run off to help Logan when he brought Daphne to the school. He also knew how much it would annoy Logan if he got close to her. Scott didn't like Logan from the moment they met; always seeing him as a potential threat to his relationship with Jean. It was undeniable how Logan felt about Jean, Scott thought. It's how he looked at her, talked to her, managed to get her alone; it was all to get under Scott's skin.

Now it was time for Scott to get under Logan's skin.

"How are you liking it here so far?" Scott asked, resting against one of the bookcases.

"It's nicer than a tiny cabin in the woods but a little too nice for a girl like me." She replies flirtatiously, Scott thinks.

Daphne could see right past his façade. He didn't actually want to know her. The only way she's survived is by staying one step ahead.

"A girl like you?"

"Trouble."

Scott can't fight the smirk creeping up on his lips.

"I don't believe that you are trouble."

"Oh, really?" Daphne giggles, eyes sparkling red.

Suddenly, Scott falls to his knees in front of her; holding his head and groaning in pain. It wasn't nearly the strongest she could go but it was enough to get her point across.

"Believe me now?" She smiles, releasing him. Maybe she was perfect for Logan, Scott thought as he watched her leave.

──★

11:28 am.

Logan's lying in bed, a cigar between his lips, and alone with his thoughts yet again. All day he wanted to check on her. God, he didn't even want to say her name. Barely two days and she's consumed his thoughts entirely and love wasn't something Logan believed in. He thought that if he stayed away or left again at the end of the week, he would be able to free himself from her restraints. She needed this support system more than he did. She deserves someone who actually gave a shit about her.

Talk to her, Logan.

He knew exactly who that annoying voice belonged to.

Get out of my head, Charles.

As soon as Logan didn't feel Charles's presence anymore, his thoughts returned to her. The only time he saw her today she was wearing his flannel, leaving her sweet scent to embed itself in the material. He wanted to feel her clinging to him again; needing him.

If you want me to stay out of your head, stop thinking so loudly.

Logan hated mind readers.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

tags: @marcybug @bethexo07

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kingofbodyrolls · 11 days ago

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Songs of the Heart (m) | pjm | chap 3: alone

Jimin has never known a feeling quite like this—a strange, stirring warmth that blooms in the quiet spaces of his chest. Could this be love? He wonders, hesitant yet hopeful. When his manager pries into his heart, he finds himself wishing for a different life—one untouched by the weight of fame, where he could love freely, without scrutiny. But even in the shadow of his longing, something beautiful is unfolding. Like frost melting beneath the gentle kiss of spring, his guarded heart begins to thaw, and for the first time in years, he feels his emotions bloom with a life of their own.

→ Pairing: jimin x reader (female) → AUs: musician!au (not completely idol!au), single dad!au, slice of life!au → Trope: strangers to lovers / neighbors to lovers → Genres: slow burn romance / fluff / angst / smut / comedy → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 5.5k → Warnings + triggers: mention of grief and sadness, past character death (Jiwoo), just a lot of FEELS, it’s a bit sad, but also very heartwarming. → Read on AO3? [link] → Author’s note: guess who’s back with another chapter? 🙋‍♀️ Yup, it’s time to dive headfirst into Jimin’s world again—because, seriously, how could we not peek into that beautiful, complicated mind of his? Aren’t you curious about what he’s feeling, what’s tugging at his heartstrings, and maybe even what’s making him blush? 🥺💜 I’ll warn you, though—this chapter has a touch of sadness (don’t throw things at me, okay?), but trust me, brighter days are on the horizon! I’m just so soft for this version of Jimin 🥹 So grab your tissues and maybe a warm drink, and let’s get through this together. Happier vibes are coming—I pinky promise! ✨ This whole story is for my dear friend @remmykinsff! I hope you’ll love it 💜

← prev | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

After sharing his lyrics with you, Jimin feels something shift within him—like a long-buried weight has finally been unearthed, leaving him lighter, freer. The words may not reflect his present, but their roots are deep, tangled in a past he knows all too well. Memories flicker in his mind like an old film reel, and with them comes the ache of loss. He remembers Jiwoo, his best friend, his anchor—and the day she slipped away forever, leaving him adrift with only their six-month-old daughter in his arms. It was a loneliness so raw, so consuming, that it etched itself into his very being. Even now, just brushing against the edges of that memory brings a tightness to his throat, a sheen to his eyes. He sniffles softly, quickly shaking off the tears. He’s already cried enough in front of you today.

It’s New Year’s Eve, after all. If ever there was a time to hold onto light and hope, it’s tonight. The deep dive into his feelings can wait for another day.

With a decisive slap to his thighs, he stands, his gaze falling to you with a mixture of quiet vulnerability and gentle mischief. “Do you want to spend New Year’s with us?” he asks, his voice tinged with something unspoken, something he hopes you’ll understand. He watches the surprise ripple across your face, the way your cheeks flush with a warmth that only adds to the glow of the moment. He can tell you’re flustered, and though he knows he has that effect on people, with you, it feels different—so different it makes his chest ache in a way he can’t explain.

He wonders if you feel it too, this invisible pull between you. He’s a man who wears his heart on his sleeve, but years in the spotlight have taught him to mask his truest feelings when he needs to. Fame demands it—his private life is his sanctuary, a place the world doesn’t get to see.

But you? Oh, you. From the very first moment he saw you, something shifted. He couldn’t quite name it then, but he knew—you were different. Special in a way that felt less like fireworks and more like the quiet glow of a candle, warm and steady, drawing him in. At first, he thought you didn’t know who he was, and when he realized he was right, he couldn’t help but smile. You’d heard his voice on the radio, sure, but you hadn’t connected the dots, hadn’t pieced together the face that stared down from the towering billboards. Somehow, that made you even more extraordinary to him.

And that’s what he likes—no, loves—about you. You don’t see him as “Park Jimin, the famous singer.” You don’t seek him out because he’s rich, or good-looking, or because he has a daughter that could soften any heart. No, with you, it’s different. You’re genuine, grounded, with a kindness that feels rare in a world that’s always spinning too fast. And yes, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed how beautiful you are—he’s not blind, after all.

Still, he’s careful, measured, holding back because he doesn’t want to scare you away. You’re a breath of fresh air in a life that often feels stifling, and he’s willing to take it slow. Talking to you is effortless, letting you into his world—even into Hwa-Young’s life—is effortless. And that’s what surprises him most. Nothing about relationships has ever felt easy for him before.

He’s had girlfriends, sure, but they always stopped at the surface. None of them ever cared to ask about the man behind the music, the meaning behind his lyrics, or the little girl who lights up his world. But you? You’re different. A different kind of good. The kind that feels rare, like something he should hold onto.

And God, he’s drawn to you. The way you walk, the quiet strength in the way you carry yourself—it’s magnetic. But there’s something else, too, something unspoken. He can see it in your eyes, in the way your smile sometimes falters for just a moment. You’ve known pain. He recognizes it because he’s worn it too. It’s like a silent understanding between you—guess it takes one to know one.

But he doesn’t push, doesn’t pry. He has a feeling that, in time, you’ll tell him everything, if—no, when—this fragile thing between you blossoms into something more. Until then, he’s willing to wait, to let the moments unfold like petals, slow and beautiful, one by one.

“I’d love to,” you say with a warm smile, and Hwa-Young squeals, bouncing on her little toes with excitement.

“Yay! Do you want to play with me? Dress up?” she asks, her wide, expectant eyes shimmering like stars. How could anyone ever say no to a gaze so innocent, so full of life?

You nod, your laughter soft and sweet, and as you let her tiny hand tug you toward her room, Jimin finds himself standing there, watching. Just watching. And it’s dangerous, the way his heart twists in his chest. A feeling so sharp and unfamiliar that he almost doesn’t know what to do with it. He knows he’s got it bad—knows it with every beat of his heart.

Letting people in has always been a battle for him, a fortress carefully built over the years. But you? Somehow, you dismantle it brick by brick, without him even noticing. Everything about you feels natural, unforced, like you’ve been meant to walk into his life and fill the quiet spaces he didn’t even know existed.

And then there’s this: you with his daughter. It’s a sight that simultaneously fills him with warmth and something deeper, more profound, a kind of ache that’s both joy and sorrow intertwined. Because you’re the first woman he’s ever brought into Hwa-Young’s life, and it means something. No, it means everything.

It’s a big deal—bigger than he can put into words. Since Jiwoo’s death, it’s always been just the two of them. Him and his little girl, navigating a world that sometimes feels too cruel, too empty. Jiwoo had been his best friend, his confidante, and losing her had ripped a hole in his chest that time could only partially mend. He sighs, the memory of her soft laughter flickering like an old, worn-out photograph in his mind.

There are days he misses her so deeply it feels like a part of him is still tethered to that loss. Days when he wishes she could be here, holding their daughter’s hand, watching her grow into the bright little light she’s becoming. Jiwoo had wanted so desperately to be the mother Hwa-Young deserved, but fate had been merciless, stealing her away too soon.

His hand clenches instinctively at his side, a quiet surge of grief, even as his gaze softens. He watches you disappear into Hwa-Young’s room, your laughter mingling with his daughter’s excited chatter. And in that moment, his heart aches in a way he’s never quite known before. It’s a joy so raw it leaves him breathless.

But he knows—he knows this isn’t about replacing Jiwoo. He isn’t looking for someone to fill that void or to be a mother to his daughter. He doesn’t need to. What they have is enough, more than enough. Yet somehow, your presence feels like the universe extending a quiet, gentle gift. A piece of something they never expected but might just be brave enough to accept.

And as he leans against the doorway, listening to Hwa-Young’s giggles and the melodic cadence of your voice, he wonders if maybe, just maybe, there’s a place in his life for this kind of hope.

But in the quiet hum of his studio, he’s drawn back to the promise he made to Jiwoo—the one etched into his soul like a quiet, unwavering vow. He’d held her trembling hand as she made him swear not to let her illness become a shadow over his life. “Don’t waste your days mourning me,” she had said, her voice so calm it still haunts him. It was inevitable, she’d insisted, the way the seasons change or the tide pulls back from the shore. Jiwoo had always been pragmatic, even in the face of the unthinkable.

And though there had never been romantic feelings between them—just a friendship so pure and profound it could have been mistaken for something else—she had asked him to promise one more thing. To open his heart to love, even when the odds would feel stacked against him as a single father.

He had tried. In the ten long years since she’d gone, he’d truly tried. He swears it. But trying hasn’t made it any easier. He’s a man that everyone wants a piece of—for his fame, his fortune, his face. The lines blur so easily, and sometimes it feels impossible to separate real connection from the shallow glow of curiosity. The years have sharpened his instincts, taught him to read between the smiles and the flattery, but it’s still exhausting.

And yet, here you are, in his life in a way that feels... different. Genuine. He knows it in the way you laugh with his daughter, not a trace of pretension in your voice, in the way your kindness feels effortless and uncalculated.

From his desk, he hears Hwa-Young’s bright giggles float down the hallway like sunlight breaking through clouds. Your voice follows, playful and warm, coaxing laughter from his daughter like a secret melody only you know how to play. He imagines the two of you in a swirl of colorful scarves and oversized hats, lost in some imaginative world he’s not sure he’s ready to intrude on.

A small smile touches his lips as he picks up his pen and returns to the half-written lyrics sprawled across his desk. He presses the nib to paper, his hand moving almost of its own accord as the words pour out, raw and unfiltered:

“The room is full, but I’m still alone.The noise fades, but silence doesn’t comfort me.A touch, a laugh—it feels close, but not enough.When did being seen stop meaning being known?”

He pauses, his chest tightening as the song begins to take shape, and a name for it floats to the surface of his mind. Alone.

Still, his thoughts drift back to you and the way you’ve seamlessly woven yourself into his and Hwa-Young’s life, like a thread of warmth and light in the fabric of their days. He wonders if he should go to you, join in your little game of dress-up, or stay here in his solitude, where it feels safer. Where it feels less terrifying to hope.

With a quiet sigh, he sets the pen down and leans back in his chair, glancing toward the open door. He knows that one day, if this thing—whatever it is—between you ever grows into something more, he’ll tell you about Jiwoo. About the promise. About the years he spent searching for what he thought he’d never find.

But for now, he listens. Listens to the soft rhythm of your laughter mingling with his daughter’s, a sound that, for once, makes him feel anything but alone.

Time slips away unnoticed, like sand through his fingers, as Jimin loses himself in the swirl of ink and emotion, pouring his heart out onto the page. Words come slow but steady, a quiet storm inside him finally breaking through. But then—suddenly, like a burst of sunlight piercing the gray—he hears the sound of laughter, light and carefree, and his heart skips a beat.

He looks up, and there you are, standing in the doorway with Hwa-Young at your side, both of you catching your breath as if you’ve just run through a field of dreams. You’re panting, your face flushed with joy, and the sound of your laughter fills the space, a melody he never knew he needed.

“Daddy, won’t you join us?” Hwa-Young’s giggle rings out, pure and untainted, like a song he didn’t know was missing.

Jimin can’t help but smile—a soft curve of his lips that’s almost foreign to him. His heart, heavy from years of quiet sorrow, lifts a little more. There’s something magical about the way Hwa-Young is dressed, her tiny body a princess in a sparkling tiara, a wand flicking with imagination. And you… you’re wearing one of his oversized shirts, the stripes playful and careless, paired with sweatpants that seem so out of place on you, yet somehow, they fit.

But it’s your smile—so bright, so unrestrained—that tugs at his heart. It’s the kind of smile that feels like a promise, and it fills him with a warmth he’s forgotten how to name. The way you wear the joy of the moment, not just on your face, but in your eyes, makes him stand from his chair without a second thought. He’s suddenly so eager to be a part of it, to feel it too.

Hwa-Young, with her childish enthusiasm, dresses him in one of his finest suits, and he lets her—lets her transform him into whatever she envisions, like he’s part of her dream. Her wand flicks, and with all the gravity of a tiny magician, she declares him a prince, her magic turning the room into a world of make-believe. You, too, are a princess in her eyes, a fantasy come to life.

And just like that, he laughs. Not the careful chuckle of a man worn by the weight of the world, but a real laugh—one that bubbles up from somewhere deeper, freer than he’s felt in years. His laughter is easy, like the spark of something alive inside him, waking up after a long slumber.

And so, Jimin spends his New Year’s Eve not in solitude, but in this sweet chaos of joy and whimsy, wrapped in the warm presence of you and Hwa-Young. Laughter echoes around them, and for the first time in a long time, Jimin feels something other than the sting of loss. He feels, instead, the tenderness of new beginnings—of a life that’s still unfolding, one moment at a time, thanks to you.

“How’s the songwriting coming along?” Seokjin’s voice is warm, his smile soft as they sit together in the quiet corner of a small café. The air smells faintly of ground coffee and fresh pastries, but Jimin is only half-aware of it, his mind tangled in melodies and words. They’re here to discuss business—upcoming concerts, album deadlines—but the conversation always manages to wander.

“Good,” Jimin answers, cradling his cup of tea between his hands, letting the steam rise and settle around him like a small, comforting cloud. His fingers trace the rim absently, his gaze distant.

Seokjin, ever the curious one, leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as if the café itself is too public a place for the question he’s about to ask. “I heard something about a girl?”

Jimin’s lips curl into a soft, knowing smile, the kind he only wears when he’s trying to hide something playful, something personal. He hides his smirk behind his cup, the warmth of the tea burning away the thoughts he doesn’t want to share. “You mean Hwa-Young?”

Seokjin rolls his eyes, a low, amused laugh escaping him. “No. Not your daughter,” he teases, leaning in even closer, the words thick with mischief. “But she did mention you’ve been spending time with someone?”

Jimin exhales a quiet sigh, the air heavier than before. This is the part of fame he dreads—how every moment, every detail of his life, becomes fodder for public consumption. Why can’t he just be… himself? Why does everything have to be picked apart, analyzed, turned into an interview?

He shifts in his seat, frustration bubbling at the edges of his composure. “Yeah, so what?” The words slip out sharper than he meant, the bite lingering in the air between them. He regrets the edge, but it’s hard to keep calm when the smallest pieces of his life feel like they’re on display. People don’t even know he has a daughter, for God’s sake.

“Is it serious?” Seokjin asks, his eyes darting around the café as if the question itself might cause a stir. He lowers his voice, wary of eavesdropping ears.

Jimin leans back slightly, his gaze distant, as if searching for something beyond the clink of coffee cups and the soft murmur of conversations. He shrugs, the motion casual but not without weight. “I don’t know.”

The words hang in the air, unspoken feelings swirling around them. He doesn’t want to admit to Seokjin how much you’ve come to mean to him. How time, since that night at New Year’s, has blurred into something both beautiful and terrifying. It’s already the middle of January, and yet it feels as if moments with you slip away like sand through his fingers—so quick, so precious, yet never enough.

He doesn’t want to drag you into his world. Into the spotlight that he’s spent so many years avoiding, carefully building walls around his heart and his life. He loves his fans, truly—more than they could ever know—but some of them can’t understand that he wants the same freedom as everyone else. To live without a camera lens always focused on him, to love without the world watching.

Yes, he’s famous—but does that mean he should be denied the simple, human joys of privacy? Does it mean that the delicate, beautiful moments he shares with you should be swallowed up by interviews, headlines, and fans who don’t know the difference between his public life and his real one?

Seokjin’s voice cuts through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. “You didn’t really answer my question, though,” he says, taking a slow sip of his coffee, his gaze sharp, yet filled with a knowing curiosity.

Jimin feels the heat of a blush creep up his neck. He can’t help it—Seokjin’s right, and it’s embarrassing to realize that he’s been avoiding the question.

“I’ve written a few new songs. They’ll be ready for the concert in May as a surprise for the fans,” he says softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips, his voice almost like a whisper, as if savoring the moment of creation.

“Great, that’s what I love to hear!” Seokjin beams, leaning back in his chair, clearly pleased. Then, his eyes narrow slightly, a hint of something shrewd in his gaze. “If things are getting serious between you and this girl… maybe you should get her to sign an NDA?” he suggests, a brow arched in mild curiosity.

The words hit Jimin like a punch to the gut. An NDA? The thought churns his insides, his chest tightening as if the air has been sucked from the room. He can’t breathe for a moment, the very idea feels wrong. He would never make you sign something like that. It doesn’t fit with what he feels for you, for the way you’ve come into his life so naturally. It’s not about trust—it’s about respect, about wanting you to be free, not bound by some legal contract. He feels a surge of protectiveness, a silent promise he’s made to himself that no one will take this from him.

He shakes his head slowly, the words leaving his lips with quiet finality, “No.”

Seokjin presses, undeterred, his voice a little more insistent, “Think about it.”

Jimin’s mind races, the idea unsettling, twisting like a knot in his stomach. He leans forward, his voice low but firm, as if to make it clear that this isn’t something he’s willing to entertain. You mean too much to him for anything to taint the purity of what you share.

Even amidst the whirlwind of your own commitments, you always carve out the time to watch him rehearse. And in your quiet presence, there’s a warmth he’s come to rely on, a constant he cherishes more than he can say. He sees you, even on the days when exhaustion weighs on you like a heavy cloak, when your eyelids flutter shut and you drift into peaceful slumber on his studio sofa. Your gentle breaths, in sync with the rhythm of his music, wrap around him like a soft, comforting blanket—a quiet testament to how deeply you’ve woven yourself into the fabric of his life.

You’ve done more for him these past months than you could ever know. You’ve been his anchor, his light when everything seemed heavy, and he is more grateful than words could ever capture. Lately, his mind has been racing with thoughts of how he can repay you, how to show you just how much you mean to him without pushing you away. The idea of scaring you off, of overwhelming you with the weight of his heart, haunts him.

He knows his emotions, raw and untamed, are like a tidal wave sometimes. He’s a writer, after all. Feelings are his livelihood, his currency. But with you by his side, watching you stand by him and Hwa-Young, it stirs something deeper within him—a desire to be better, to be more, to share parts of himself that he’s never let anyone see before. He wants to open up more, include you in ways he hasn’t dared with anyone else, not since Jiwoo.

He has stopped playing, the strings of his guitar silent in the air as his gaze lingers on you. The sight of you, so serene, so free in your slumber, tugs at his heart. Your chest rises and falls in a rhythm as gentle as his own. You look so beautiful in your vulnerability, so tender in your quiet repose. You are everything he never knew he needed, and more than he ever imagined he could find.

He sets the guitar aside, the quiet echo of its final note hanging in the air like a fading memory. The studio, once filled with music, now holds only the soft rustling of your breath as you sleep. Gently, he steps away, his heart full of warmth as he moves to the kitchen. A meal is something simple, but it feels like a small offering of care. It’s what you all need after a day filled with so much—comfort, warmth, and the peace of shared moments.

When dinner is ready, the soft simmering of the stove replaced by the inviting scent of home-cooked food, he calls Hwa-Young to the table. But before she can join them, he slips back to check on you. You’re still there, curled up in the same spot, lost in the world of dreams, soft murmurs escaping your lips as if you’re still tangled in the rhythm of sleep.

He approaches you quietly, a gentle hand brushing against your shoulder as he nudges you awake.

You stir, your movements slow and unhurried, as if unwilling to leave the comfort of your slumber. A yawn stretches your body, and your eyes flutter open to meet his gaze—drowsy, but warm, and full of that quiet wonder he’s come to adore. “What time is it?” you ask, your voice thick with sleep.

Jimin chuckles softly, a sound that feels like a quiet caress. “It’s dinnertime,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes. “You fell asleep.”

A blush spreads across your cheeks, warm and sweet as you blink up at him in surprise. “You made dinner?�� Your voice is soft, like the surprise is a secret between you and him.

He smiles, a slow, easy curve of his lips, and nods. There’s a softness in his gaze that melts a little bit of the distance between you. Reaching down, he takes your hand, your fingers warm and familiar. With a gentle pull, he helps you up, your body falling naturally into his embrace. You’re close, and in that moment, the world feels just a little bit smaller, a little bit warmer. The blush on your face only makes him smile wider, the flutter of his heart quickening in his chest. “Yes,” he murmurs, “I did. Now come eat,” he says with a smile that’s pure and inviting, pulling you gently along toward the dining room.

There, you sit together, the sounds of soft laughter and small talk filling the air as you share the quiet intimacy of a meal. The rhythm of your conversations, the way your voices blend together, is a harmony more perfect than any song. And in this simple moment, Jimin realizes that this—this right here, this quiet peace—is everything he never knew he needed.

Jimin is wandering through the aisles of the grocery store, his thoughts preoccupied with mental notes about what to cook tonight, when a familiar figure catches his eye. Jiwoo’s mother. The sight of her stops him in his tracks, like a memory brought to life. Her smile greets him before her words do—wide, warm, and full of that unchanging comfort that feels like coming home. She’s always been that to him: a second home, a quiet refuge. After all, Jiwoo and Jimin had been inseparable since childhood, and her house was like an extension of his own—where laughter and care lived in every corner.

“Hi, Jimin,” she says, her voice as soft as the years they shared, pulling him into a hug that feels like being wrapped in a blanket of love. She smells like jasmine, just as she always has, and for a moment, he feels like that young boy again, sitting in her kitchen eating snacks after school.

“How are you and Hwa-Young doing?” she asks, her eyes shimmering with affection, the kind that doesn’t need words to convey its depth.

Jimin can’t help but smile, his chest swelling with warmth at her concern. “We’re doing good,” he says, his voice tender, carrying the truth of his gratitude. “You should come by sometime. We miss you.”

Her face lights up at his words, her hands squeezing his arms gently. “Oh, I will. I miss my granddaughter too. And you.” She hugs him again, and he lets out a soft laugh, feeling her genuine affection wash over him.

But when she pulls back, there’s something new in her gaze—a knowing softness, almost maternal, as if she can see the parts of him he keeps hidden. “How are you really doing, my son?” she asks, her tone dipping into a tenderness that strikes a chord deep within him.

For a moment, Jimin falters, caught off guard by her question. The simplicity of it carries weight, peeling back the polished surface he usually presents. He looks at her, his brow furrowing slightly, wondering how she always seems to know when there’s more to his story.

He stays silent for a beat too long, his thoughts swirling, until she tilts her head and clarifies, her tone gentle but knowing.

“Don’t think I can’t tell when something’s weighing on you. A mother knows.” Her smile is soft, warm, and it reaches into a part of him he thought was better hidden. His heart clenches under its glow, the way it always does when she looks at him like that—with the quiet understanding only she and his mother seems to have.

For a moment, Jimin hesitates, debating whether he should say anything at all. But Jiwoo’s mother has always been more than just a mother figure; she’s a safe haven, a lighthouse in his stormiest seas. Her caring has always been constant, and her wisdom? Unshakable. He sighs, feeling the weight of her gaze unraveling him, and he knows he won’t leave this conversation unscathed. So he exhales, surrendering, and lets the truth spill from his chest.

“I met someone,” he begins, the words heavy and light all at once, as if saying them aloud gives them a shape he’s not sure he’s ready to carry. His chest tightens as months of suppressed emotions rise to the surface, like waves crashing onto an unsuspecting shore.

Her expression brightens immediately, her lips curving into a knowing smile as she leans against her cart. “You did? Tell me about her,” she encourages, her voice tinged with curiosity and delight.

Jimin can’t help but smile, the mere thought of you pulling at the corners of his mouth, softening his entire face. He looks down for a moment, almost shy, before speaking again. “She’s… kind. Generous. Loving. She’s wonderful with Hwa-Young, and she makes me feel…” His words trail off, caught in the tide of emotions he’s still learning how to name. It’s all there, clear as day in his heart, but saying it aloud feels like baring himself entirely.

Jiwoo’s mother chuckles softly, her voice gentle and teasing. “Are you in love?” she asks, the question slipping from her lips with such tenderness that it catches him off guard.

Jimin feels the heat rush to his face, a blush creeping up his neck as he nods, shy and unsure, like a boy confessing his first crush. But as quickly as the joy fills him, guilt rises just as fast. He feels a pang of unease, like he’s betraying Jiwoo by pouring out his heart to her mother about someone else.

His gaze flickers downward, his voice quieter now. “I just… I don’t know if it’s right. Talking about her… to you, of all people.”

But Jiwoo’s mother reaches out, her hand brushing his arm lightly, anchoring him. Her smile is gentle but unwavering. “Jimin, love doesn’t take anything away from the past. It adds to it. Jiwoo wouldn’t want you to feel like this—she’d want you to be happy.”

Her words settle over him like a soothing balm, easing the tightness in his chest as he lifts his gaze to meet hers. For the first time in a long time, he feels lighter, as though the burden of his emotions isn’t something he has to carry alone.

Without skipping a beat, she senses the weight in his words, the hesitation behind his smile. Her voice is soft, but steady, like the whisper of wind through familiar trees. “Why do you feel guilty, Jimin?”

He stammers, his heart racing as though it’s trying to outrun the truth. “I don’t want you to think… that I’m replacing Jiwoo,” he says, the words trembling on his tongue, heavy with the unspoken ache in his chest.

She smiles—gentle, knowing, as though she’s been waiting for this moment to ease his burden. Her laugh is tender, almost like a coo you’d give to soothe a child, and she reaches forward, pulling him into the warmth of her embrace. “Oh, Jimin. You could never replace her, and I know you never would,” she whispers, her words wrapping around him like the arms he’s missed in his darkest hours. She steps back, her hands lingering on his shoulders, her gaze soft yet gleaming with a mother’s fondness. “I’m just happy—so happy—that you’ve finally found someone. You deserve that, you know.”

Her smile deepens as she adds, with a teasing lilt, “You know, I always wanted you and Jiwoo to get married. That was my dream for the two of you.”

Jimin’s brow furrows, and he shakes his head gently. “I never had romantic feelings for Jiwoo,” he says, his voice steady but kind. “It wouldn’t have worked. We were… different.”

She nods, understanding in her eyes. “Oh, I know,” she says with a wistful sigh. “Your love for her was always different. But a mother can dream, can’t she? You were good for her, Jimin. You made her laugh, made her days brighter. I still remember watching the two of you play in the yard, running and hiding, always up to something. The way you’d joke around like nothing in the world could touch you.” Her voice trails off, and for a moment, she’s somewhere else, lost in a memory that warms her even as it stings. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears as she murmurs, “I really miss her.”

The words tug at Jimin’s heart, unraveling the thread he’s worked so hard to keep tied. His throat tightens, his vision blurs, and when he speaks, his voice cracks under the weight of his grief. “I miss her too,” he whispers, the words slipping free like petals carried on the breeze.

For a moment, silence settles between them, heavy but comforting, like an old quilt draped over shared pain. Then, she reaches out, her fingers lightly brushing his hand in a gesture so gentle it feels like forgiveness. Her smile returns, warm and encouraging, like sunlight breaking through clouds. “So… this girl,” she begins, her tone playful yet earnest, “Can I meet her soon?”

Jimin feels a blush creep up his neck, but he can’t help the smile that blooms across his face, unguarded and true. “Maybe,” he says softly, the single word brimming with possibility.

In her presence, he feels something shift—an unspoken blessing, an unshackling of the guilt he’s carried for so long. The weight lifts, and in its place, something new takes root. He feels it growing inside him, tender and unstoppable, like the first green buds breaking through winter’s frost. Just as the air begins to warm and the trees stretch toward spring, his heart is unfurling, blossoming with feelings for you that he can no longer contain.

And for the first time in years, he feels the hope of a new season.

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv @mikrokookiex @rapmonjoon94

→ Series taglist: @13-manggaetteok @mima795 @hnnnjm @flaneuseonthestreets @miniesjams32 @graydolan12

→ Author’s endnote: Waaaaaah— 🤧😭 Are you crying? Because SAME. My heart is officially in shambles, and I need emotional support ASAP. So, tell me—what did you think of this whole chapter from Jimin’s POV? Isn’t he just so much in the best (and most heartbreaking) way? 🥺💜 Also… let’s talk about Jiwoo 👀 We know she passed away, but the real questions are: how and why? What’s your theory? Spill the tea—I’m dying to know your thoughts!🕵️‍♀️✨

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morbethgames · 2 months ago

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Halloween Special, Current Projects, New Patreon Content

I am so sorry about the radio silence as of late. Between the stuff earlier this week (yes, that stuff), dealing with deaths of people, and university; I've been very busy and mentally drained. However, the good news is, you can play the mini game of The Bureau, "Witchy Woman" right now! The link is at the bottom of this post! Eventually I'll integrate it into the main game, or put it out as potential free DLC or something, but for now there are no stats and it's not tied to choices from the base game.

Tonight is a special case. The MCT has been called in as a favor after finishing up our most recent case. A friend of Kris's reached out, and the local P.D. has let the MCT take the lead on this one. A house party in the beginning of October up in Maine has turned sour. A party-goer has been reported deceased.

We just finished a job, but in this line of work, there's always another case to solve. So here I am, approaching the residence with my team, about to find out exactly what happened on this cold, damp night.

Because it's not part of a bigger game or story, and the only pacing I had to worry about was that of the investigation, this is much more freeflow than other investigations in the main story. Go back and forth between the crime scene, the perimeter of the house, interrogations, and more! The more you discover evidence, the more new options will unlock in conversations, and you have an evidence log in the stats section that updates every time you find out something relevant to the case.

I'm only promoting this now, even though it's been done for a couple of weeks, because it was part of a Jam and I didn't think it would be fair if I got votes from a community built over a few years when others in the Jam would not have had that same benefit. I wanted it to be an even playing field, even if it meant holding out for a bit. So, I apologize for making you all wait.

There are still things I'd like to do for this game, things I'll end up adding, but it is at the very least ready to play. It's 40k words, so have at it!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Right, next up, something I'd like to announce. I'm working on a serialized fiction that I'm (hopefully) planning to turn into a book. The first 3 chapters are going to be posted for free, both here on my blog and on my Patreon, though not quite yet. Chapters after that will be released on Patreon for the people who pay the $5 tier.

I'll be honest, it has been extremely cathartic to go from writing an IF where the chapters are all pretty much the length of a book themselves, to writing an actual book where a chapter is about 4k words. It's a very nice breath of fresh air, and it by no means, entails that I will stop working on Bureau. In fact, it may even help speed up rate of production, funnily enough. Having something to keep my mind turning while having writer's block about a scene in the IF will help me constantly generate ideas, and that's really nice to think about.

A small college town is rocked by a horrific murder. In wake of the events, a couple of friends begin investigating this personal tragedy, determined to get to the bottom of what happened at the Scribe City college. The lesson is quickly thrust upon them that loss leads to pain, but pain is temporary, and loss can be forever. So what comes after the pain? They need to explore that journey together, and in the process, navigate the complicated things feelings that have started to bloom.

The book (serialized fiction for now) , called Love In Stasis, is going to be a 'WLW romance small town college murder mystery'. You will explore the relationships that these characters have and continue to form, and just how messy things get when tragedy sparks love. I have almost 25k words done for it, about six and a half chapters, and I'm going to try to get 50k words done with it by the end of the month. A writing challenge that's totally not tied to the name of any organizations.

If this works out, I could reward patrons with static fiction while not having to worry about providing everyone with constant things tied to the IF itself, and I could work on The Bureau at a pace I'm very comfortable with.

I'm still learning as a writer. I'm still learning new things I like, and how I like to produce content. All I know is that I like producing art in the form of writing, and I most certainly will not stop doing that anytime soon, and now that the Halloween Special is done, I will be getting back to the base game.

Which will start with a complete recoding of the gender variables. I've already started on that process, so no more multiple versions of each chapter. One version. One set of gender variables. Much more condensed coding and script. So, people out there who said that wasn't going to change, I just have to say what I'd said all along. My coding was indeed bad. However I will also say something else I've said all along. I do take criticism.

That being said I'm never using multi-replace and you can't make me. I like being able to read what I'm writing.

More to come in the near future.

Stay Brilliant,

-Vi

https://cogdemos.ink/play/viisbae/the-bureau-halloween-special-witchy-woman

Patreon Link

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nyarumie · 5 months ago

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Brains to Brawn. (Chapter 1)

narumi gen x f!reader — 1.7k words, co-workers to lovers, narumi loves kisses, multiple parts, semi canon compliant, in denial reader.

STATUS: Ongoing. Chapter links: 1, 2, 3

Author's Note at the end! Happy reading ♡

Cross-posted on ao3.

Requests, prompts, or any messages are appreciated! Just open my ask box.

The shift in the tides of the First Division wasn't subtle. It wasn't the way the large bodies of water swayed with greater force against Ariake Maritime Base's sturdy walls, nor did it have to do anything with Regular Officers being transferred from one division to another.

The first change in the atmosphere was when Second Division Captain, Hikari Shinomiya, died. Tense. Strict. A single drop of needle could disrupt the entire defense force—ironically seeming so quiet despite the sounds emerging from the Officers' even more rigorous training.

The second wave of change felt rowdy, raucous—but hopeful. Narumi Gen had made quite the scenario even before officially joining the Defense Force. An unleashed combat power of 24% even without donning a suit at least once in his life, showing great aptitude potential for Kaiju No. 1 weapons, and... having a blatant display of disrespect and chaos, as the higher ups would describe. What seemed to be the hope of the nation turns out to be the First Division's biggest headache. Most times.

The third was when things started to be more obvious—to most people, a shift in leadership means a shift in everything. Shortly after Narumi joined the Defense Force, the Head of Operations eventually had to retire. Kurusu was given the prestige to be the young Head of Operations. At the same time, Narumi had already been appointed as a Platoon Leader, a sign that the youth will shoulder the fate of this country and power will emerge across all divisions.

The next wave is you.

From the previous year, the Defense Force's annual selection involved both Officers and Operators. You were tempted to apply in both, for simple reasons: As an operator, you know you're extremely smart—emerging at the top of your class in university and having reading as a hobby enhanced your intelligence.

On the other hand, you simply think it would be fun to try the Officer Selection Trial. Who knows? You were pretty athletic, diving here and there to save volleyballs on your university's sports fest. Hell, you even won an MVP award twice.

But you have bills to pay and concerts you'd love to attend, so you let the rational part of your brain win and opt for the safer option. With a fellow youngster like Kurusu leading the Operations, all worries about bonding with your co-workers were thrown out the window.

In fact, it seems like you went overboard with bonding with them. You all were friends and swore to do your job properly so as to stick together til the end, but how come you're the only one facing this... baffling scenario?

'A little fun in your normal working day as an operations manager won't hurt', they said.

'The captain won't find out about this anyway', another added.

You should've known that the normal working day applies only to your co-workers. You, on the other hand? It literally changed the trajectory of your life—for better or for worse. Internally groaning, you wondered why you didn't push harder when you were against their idea of 'fun'.

When your co-workers suggested doing something for fun, you never thought it would be testing out each other's unleashed combat power, if you even have them; you're all managing the operations, after all. Doing calculations in your head, you estimated you'd all be getting a percentage ranging from 1% to 3%.

After pleading with Kurusu for what felt like an hour, your little unassuming friend group got permission to use the combat power technology.

"I'm an MVP for volleyball in our University, y'know? If I get an 8%, maybe I can smash a ball or two on a yoju's head. Might get recruited on the spot too.", you said with humourous arrogance.

Your co-worker who was prepping the machine chimed in, "We don't have balls for weapons. And don't get your hopes up, the most you'll be getting is probably a 2%. It's impossible for anyone to get a 0% after all."

With a pout, you denied that you're hoping for a good result. You're pretty satisfied with your job, anyways. Good pay, safety secured—what else could you ask for?

"Alright, prep done. Who's up first?"

"Oh, I'll go! I proposed the idea, so I should be the one taking the first step!" said your enthusiastic co-worker. There were only 4 of you anyway, enough to fall into a line, letting yourself go last.

Sometime along your little fun, Kurusu entered the room, feeling uneasy about giving permission against official purposes. As expected, your friends got a range of 1% to 3%. They were all cheering as you got ready to lay down, as you were initially against the idea of having fun with these machines.

"Show us your 8%, then!" they laughed.

You rolled your eyes at them as your co-worker is sticking the device to certain pulse points to extract your body conditions.

"Keep your head straight and calm down. I'll activate it in a few minutes. We wouldn't want any irregularities in your readings—like you getting 8% from your volleyball experience." she snorted.

Following further instructions, you closed your eyes and kept your composure. It surprisingly felt comfortable, despite the hard surface. It's probably because you haven't slept well comfortably in so long.

"Extraction in 3, 2, and 1..."

It was Kurusu who surprisingly spoke this time. "Well... You almost got an 8. You're on 6%." he announced, still looking confused at the screen.

"Can somebody give me a gun? Or a sword?" you asked.

You thought their necks will snap at how fast they turned their heads to you. They looked at you as if you just had asked for the most incredulous thing, which in this case, does sound frightening.

"Gonna kill us for doubting you?", they joked. "What for, though?"

"Trying to see if I can get that combat power up if I hold those. We're already having fun here, wouldn't hurt to test a few more things, right? Just don't let anyone know of this, or we'll all lose our jobs." you said.

They turn to Kurusu, eyes hopeful, asking through their gazes if it's still within his given permission to issue weapons.

Curiosity piqued, he didn't hesitate giving approval this time. "Alright. Just do make sure to get some less powerful weapons." With a sigh, he mumbled, "My first year as head operator and I feel like I'll already lose my job..."

Once you were provided with your 'weapons', you were instructed by Kurusu this time. "Just hold them as naturally as you can. You may choose between the two weapons provided. Lay them down next to you if you don't want it tested."

Holding the gun in one hand, you heard their countdown go off again. You let yourself relax while waiting for the results.

"Huh. A small increase, but quite a feat. You're smart for suggesting to hold these weapons. It's actually now on 8%. Try the dagger."

You let go of the gun and did as you were told. It took you a while to get as natural as you can while holding the dagger, but decided to not put in any effort as you were just having some 'fun' anyways.

"...That was higher than the gun. 10%. You're unbelievable."

'What's so unbelievable about that?' you thought. Not a single result elicited any reaction from you. Hell, now-promoted Platoon Leader Narumi had a whopping 24% even as a normal civilian. Why would yours be any unbelievable? Maybe it's the first and only time an operations manager got this number. Who in their right mind would test this out for fun anyway?

"Hey, I'll try holding both of these. Let's end our fun and curiosity here." you announced. By this time, you just want this to end. But you are as intrigued as they are, hence suggesting a final test. For some reason, you felt yourself become uneasy at the last attempt. You know it never ends good whenever a sudden wave of uneasiness washes over you, so you force yourself to keep the relaxed state you were previously in.

From your peripheral vision, you saw Kurusu nod. You took both weapons in your hand. The procedure repeats, for the last time.

And then there was silence. You thought you fell asleep, but moved your fingers just to confirm you're still awake. Opening your eyes, you turn to look at your co-workers who were currently gawking at the huge screen.

"Um... You..." started Kurusu. "You uh, just got an 18% unleashed combat power with both weapons in your hold."

Oh.

Now that's unbelievable.

"...And our fun little session ends here! Can somebody assist me here so I can continue my work?" you asked in a rush.

"No. You stay there, I'm not done with your analysis. I'll have to command everyone to go back to their stations." Kurusu said, seriousness suddenly taking over his voice.

He continued speaking, "Not only do you have an 18% unleashed combat power, you also have a potential aptitude for Kaiju no. 3 cells."

It's as if your ability to speak was taken. 18% unleashed combat power sure is something for someone in your level, but to have an aptitude for an identified kaiju...? No wonder he asked them to leave. Word about this finding mustn’t spread, at least, not for now. Your co-workers are new in the job, so they probably don’t know how to identify an aptitude reading for identified Kaiju.

"Um... So... Do we report this to the Captain or something?" you hesitantly ask after a few minutes of blanking out. You don't know what else you can say at the moment, totally taken aback by the suddenness of it all.

Before Kurusu can even respond, you hear a voice coming from the doorway.

"Huh. No wonder those operators flocked out of the room in a hurry. I've spared you the job. The old man is already informed."

Your eyes widened, soul leaving your body upon hearing it. You know you'd have to eventually report this to the Captain, but this soon? And what's worse, that voice...

Standing lazily at the doorway with his phone in one hand is no other than the newly promoted Platoon Leader, Narumi Gen.

Author's Note(s):

My first fic! I've actually never wrote anything like this before, as I've only spent my entire life writing academic papers 😭 Thus, constructive criticism and feedbacks are always welcome!

I also apologize for any inaccuracies in the terminologies I used, my brain is pea-sized when it comes to some canon minor details.

I thought I'll be able to finish this in a single chapter, but I think a max of 3 wouldn't sound so bad. I can't write continuously or my head will explode omg

I'm not sure about the holding weapons thing, but I included it here based off how they tested Mina to have great aptitude for guns. I also recall a chapter saying Soshiro's combat power for firearms is so low, hence why he's a close quarters combatant.

Also, about the Kaiju No. 3 thingy, It's not gonna be canon compliant since we don't have any info on that identified Kaiju so I'll just be making stuff up for the sake of this fic lol.

#kaiju no. 8 #narumi gen x reader #kn8 writing #axia writes for fun #kn8 x reader #gen narumi #narumi gen fluff

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erinwantstowrite · 6 months ago

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Would you ever... create like... LOF au oneshots....? Like, one chapter lengths stuff for things that you were thinking of putting in but didn't, or doing like a "Peter if he was younger, meeting the bats" or "what if Bruce was his dad, not Dink?"

i have been collecting scenes that ended up not being in LoF... Like, some scenes that were in a different POV before they got changed (there's a Tim POV that got scrapped and ended up as Peter's instead, this is the hardware store scene), scenes that ended up not being in it at all (Peter and Dick were going to have dinner with Donna, but it wasn't coming out right when I tried writing it) etc.

I do like the idea of doing drabbles for LoF like I do for Home too, or maybe even writing someone else's POV of a scene that I did put in LoF, or writing things that the others were doing on certain days, etc.

though there are some things that i might end up putting in a different au instead of scrapping it all together. like this scene:

[ Peter is holding a fridge. Somehow, this is both a cause for alarm and also not at all what the problem really is.

See, Peter woke up this morning with the goal of going around and logging Gotham’s map so he could input it into the Jumping Radar. Peter really wants to avoid going back to the library, and doesn’t feel like testing his chances at a new library just yet. However, that plan ended up on the back burner sooner rather than later.

There’s this little old lady on Bourbank Avenue, a little close to Benny’s, that Peter says hello to when he sees. Her name is Margerie, and usually outside tending to her rickety garden. “Poison Ivy is more gentle with people who care about the plants.” She had told him, and taught Peter her ways of tending to beans, beets, carrots, and spinach.

Well, Peter said hello to her today. Stopped by to chat while she taught him about how to tell when a tomato is at its best. And that’s when he heard about her fridge.

“I’ve had it so long, it’s no wonder it gave out on me,” She had said.

“How long has it been?”

“Well, Benji was still alive…”

“Who?”

“My son.” Margerie had smiled. “He was the one who’d remember that kind of thing.”

And, well, jeez. Peter’s not a monster. He went looking for a damn fridge.

However, he didn’t have the money for a fridge. So what he could do was find where Margerie’s hired worker dumped the fridge, fix it, and find some way to bring it back without anyone noticing he’s a skinny 14 year old who shouldn’t be able to do that. This endeavour led him all the way to a dumpster, where it turns out he can’t save the fridge after all.

But there was an appliance store in the Diamond District that Peter had passed by. And wouldn’t you know it, he found a fridge outside in their dumpster that was able to be salvaged. It’s perfectly clean, too, just sitting there brand new and with a faulty ice box that no one wanted to work around.

So.

Peter is holding a fridge.

That’s somehow both a cause for alarm, and not the problem.

Cause of alarm- he dropped it on his foot when a group of people ran behind the appliance store, and he almost shrieked in pain and alerted them that he was behind the now dropped fridge. He heard the crack in his foot and felt it and prayed, but no- broken.

Peter pushes the fridge off of his foot, yanks the broken thing back, and gently drops the fridge back into place. He’s far enough against a chain link fence to be hidden very well, thankfully, and none of the people who ran back here had seen him. (Yet?) He presses his back against the chain link, biting his lip and pressing his thumb on the injury. It’s not that bad, he can already feel the healing itch. But it’s enough that with only a couple meals in him, that it’ll take longer than Peter would like for it to get back to normal.

“Fuck! Scatter! Why’re y’followin’ me, y’idiots!?”

The real problem: not the broken foot.

“This was tha only place ta run!” Another shouts back. “Fuck! This is bad!”

“No shit! Y’fuckin’ moron- y’led a Bat right to us!” A third hisses.

Peter peeks around the fridge in time to see the third guy grabbing the second by the collar, slamming him up against a wall with a thud.

hello! hey, watch? look it look it look it

Whatever scuffle was about to happen is quieted. Peter glances upwards, but he doesn’t see what he knows is there, in plain daylight. There’s a presence on the roof of the appliance store, but where? Peter should be able to see them, but…

there there there!

He doesn’t get to focus on the presence that’s there. Instead, his eyes are starting to adjust to the fact that- hold on-

Peter glances up. Gotham is usually cloudy and grey, but… there’s nothing blocking that light of a stormy early morning. And yet, everything in the area is growing darker and darker. Peter’s skin crawls, a tingle that settles down his spine and tries to make up for the increasing lack of light. The group of teens start to panic, looking for a way out that isn’t possible in this dead end.

Darkness encompasses the area. Peter takes short, silent breaths. His ears twitch with every movement from the teens, every whisper of panic. Their heartbeats are erratic, and it’s like they already know which Bat this is. There’s seven heartbeats, panicked, trying to escape…

And one that is calm. There’s a breath and the scuffle of a foot from the rooftop.

Peter closes his eyes even though it’s already dark. His spider-sense is making up for what he can’t see, a mental map of the area created in his head. He feels the air move around him, and listens as the Bat takes each of them out one by one.

The thuds of one companion freak out another. “Scotty?”

But then he’s out too. Peter hears two more meet the same fate, knocked out cold on the concrete. He opens his eyes as the Bat approaches the last of them, just in time for the shadows to recede back to where they should be.

Signal stands over the last, now unconscious guy.

The Bat hasn’t broken a sweat. He almost looks bored when he starts ziptieing the gang, complaining aloud, “Y’all couldn’t have waited until tomorrow to cause trouble?”

Whoa.

Peter had seen Signal doing his thing a couple times when he was out and about, but never this up close. That…

That was fucking awesome.

He heard the guy was a meta, and he didn’t know what to believe about that, but seriously? That was like some Shadow-jutsu shit- wait, could he do that? No, wait, because now Peter can see Signal again. He was fucking invisible! And he’s acting like it was nothing! ]

I really really really really really wanted this scene, but it never made it past the rough draft :( that's because it didn't make sense with the rest of the chapter (i can not remember which chapter it was for, but it was definitely before Two Face). I've been thinking about putting it in a deleted scenes for LoF fic, but I think I might take it and put it in a different au.

(The only consolation I have for this scene not making it in is that Signal gets to have a cool scene later)

#erinwantstowrite #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #leap of faith ao3 #leap of faith catch me if you can #leap of faith #peter parker #duke thomas #writing #drabbles #deleted scenes #thank you for the ask!

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loveanddeepspice · 3 months ago

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𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis: you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating: 18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw: religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise) this chapter specifically mentions suicide.

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter: 3 / ?

✞ co-authors: redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link: here

✞ chapter synopsis: Rafayel’s confessions about his past mirror the turmoil you're trying to hide.

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

You couldn’t get the image of him out of your head. Pale and sculpted, so beautiful - it almost left you numb. The way your name sounded when it passed his lips.

So you needed a distraction. After the festival, you walked back to Talias and into the garage and demanded that Rafayel hang out with you.

Now, the two of you sat together on the lake dock. A beer was nestled between the cleft of your thighs. The night around you came alive as the golden orange sky faded to a deep lavender of early evening. It was serene, as so many days from long gone used to be. The moon above was just starting to peak around the tops of the trees.

The tension in your body eased into the small space of solitude as Rafayel sat back, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.

“It’s good that you still try, you know.” He chuckled and brought his bottle to his lips. “To be normal.”

You shrugged a bit, titling your beer as you watched the water, the shimmering waves a flickering beacon. “It doesn’t feel that way sometimes. To feel or think normal, I mean.”

Rafayel said nothing, reaching inside the pocket of his jeans and pulling out a joint, bringing it to his lips and lighting it with a practiced motion. He took a hit and passed it to you. Gladly accepting, you inhaled deeply. The burn crept through your system with lightning speed, and your body immediately felt lighter.

“Coming home should help ease some of the chaos in my mind.” You admitted with a laugh, one that didn’t quite hide the pain as you shook your head. “I don’t feel normal, I’m not working, Dad is working all the time…Everything is just…like…”

Wind gushed through the trees above, leaves dancing like wind chimes with gentle voices. This area was once an escape, but you wondered how much longer you would feel that nostalgia.

“I tried to kill myself.” Rafayel blurted out. Blunt. Awkward, tense silence filled the space between you both until the moment passed and realization flooded you. If you had sipped your beer, it would have been spat everywhere. Your neck could have snapped in half if you swung it around further when you looked back at him.

“What - oh my God.” Your shock doubled. “Like, recently?”

Rafayels smile was soft as he looked out toward the lake, taking another hit of the joint and exhaling slowly. “More than a year ago.” He glanced up at the sky briefly before continuing. “I was in Paris, surrounded by all these gorgeous people with those blue Parisian veins and expensive fragrances. At first, I was in New York, and I thought I belonged there until I started to feel insignificant. So I took all my money and got a one-way ticket for as far away as possible.”

“For your art? Or -”

“Not exactly.” Rafayel said, “I was a mess. Dad will never get out of the Navy, and Mom was set on moving to Canada after the divorce, so I went somewhere with more people, you know?”

“And you still felt alone, so you went to Paris?” You asked.

“Pretty much. I met this guy in Paris, Jean.” He paused, his eyes narrowing towards the water as if he were scrutinizing it or the memory of the name he brought up. “We were a toxic pair. Took whatever we could get our hands on and a bunch of other shit.”

Rafayel smirked and turned towards you, pointing a finger from the hand still holding the joint. “You wouldn’t have recognized me. Black suits, slick shoes. Sometimes, leopard skin shirts. Some real crazy styles to go with a real major fuckboy lifestyle.”

You snorted at the thought, and he glared at you, albeit playfully, as you quickly said. “Never, Raf. I would never have thought that.”

Rafayel waved his hand as if dismissing your notion outright. “Really! I partied, got high, made sure I screwed just one more person so maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a piece of trash. All the while, here I was, painting and drawing. Filling notebooks and pouring everything else of myself into the canvas - only for none of it to matter. All this talent and emotion it took to create something - the only person ever appreciative was Jean.”

“So what happened?” You asked, and your question seemed to give Rafayel pause.

He snubbed the joint out carefully. Then, he began to roll up the sleeve of his sweater, revealing deep, angry-looking scars on his wrist. They ran along the outside of his forearm, criss-crossed. Large and white and almost ugly. When you heard his voice again, it was whispered. “We, uh, we broke up. I kind of lost it.”

“Oh no…” the words slipped out as you ran your fingertips over his arm. Not grasping or pulling but tracing the lines over his skin. “Raf, I’m so sorry…”

Rafayel gave you a dry, almost sardonic snort. “Yeah, yeah. I know, sweetheart.” He took his arm back and worked on rolling his sleeve back down. “Got thrown into a psych ward for a few weeks. Therapy, drugs, the whole lot.”

“What did your parents do when they found out? Bring you back home?”

“Yeah, they figured the woman who helped raise me could at least help straighten me out,” Rafayel said, giving you an almost resigned smile - melancholic. “Aunt Talia keeps trying to get me to go to church and talk to Father Sylus. Saying God can help me get through this.”

Father Sylus. You frowned as your thoughts became filled with him again. Father Sylus, with fiery red eyes and soft lips, probably had a huge…heart. You looked over at your friend as he continued, brushing some hair out of your face as you tried not to sigh outwardly.

“But I couldn’t go - I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him because-” he stopped abruptly, hand going to his mouth as he tried to calm a sudden laughing fit. When his composure returned, he looked at you again. “I can’t go because - the man is hot.”

“What - no! He’s not!” You gasped, torn between offended and thrilled at the flicker of something intense that you felt. A strange jealousy, the kind that curled your stomach and made your cheeks heat rose from within you. And that couldn’t be right.

“Um, yes, he is.” Rafayel countered, “He is literally sculpted by the hands of the almighty above himself.”

Laughing a little, you shook your head as you rolled the neck of your beer between your fingers, contemplating your following words. “I - I can’t believe you think a Catholic priest is attractive.”

Who are you trying to kid?

“It’s the ass. Always the ass.” Rafayel insisted, his voice almost dreamy as he continued to look at you with a straight face.

You couldn’t help it. Despite the heaviness still hanging around your friend's prior revelation, you erupted into laughter, leaning over to hold your stomach. You suddenly felt light and truly liberated, but you quickly sought to pull yourself back to reality, looking back at Rafayel.

“I’m sorry you went through all of that, Raf.” You told him, your tone dropping. “But I’m glad you told me.”

Rafayel groaned, bringing a hand to his forehead and tilting it back. “Talia is going to kill me! Nobody was supposed to know.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you told him immediately, sitting up straighter. “Look, your secrets are sealed, okay? You know me.”

Rafayel looked like he was struggling to suppress a small smile. “Thanks.” His eyes looked as if he remembered something happy, maybe all the times you both snuck out of school and came down to this lake. “I’m glad you’re back, Y/N, even if I can’t put my finger on what’s going on inside that head of yours.”

You returned home late, shutting the door quietly behind you so as not to disturb the house. In the silence, it reminded you of a time capsule or a painting in a gallery. Everything was displayed perfectly, frozen—perfect, static, as if unable to grow or change.

When you first came home, your father welcomed you back as if you had never left; inside, this house seemed even fuller than it had when your mother was alive, stuffed with memories—every article placed or hung or draped across surfaces just as she had originally laid them out.

You went upstairs, turning on the dimmer light to see your bed and the objects in the room. You started by bending your knees to remove your jeans, which made a muffled patter when they landed on the carpet.

“Just need to sleep.” You whispered to yourself, but the hair on your arms stood upright. Something heavy was weighing on the surface of your skin. Something that felt a lot like… guilt.

Flopping onto the bed, you unlocked your phone. The missed call from Zayne was still at the top of the list. Something in you faltered. A surge of loneliness and desire that clouded your brain.

To open that door of temptation that called for him like a beacon. It was an insistent tug, gnawing into your reality.

You pressed the call button.

His groggy voice's immediate answer relaxed the coil inside you just a little bit.

“H-Hey,” you whispered. “Did I wake you?”

You heard him sniff, a slight shift, and a soft hum. “No. I’m at the hospital tonight.”

You swallowed, a tingle of fear rushing through your nerves when you sat up. “Oh, I'm sorry, I thought—” You silenced yourself and tried to release a trembling breath. You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping your phone even tighter.

You tried to calm your unease for another few seconds. Eventually, Zayne's voice melted through the receiver, breaking the silence. “Is everything okay?”

No. Nothing was. The thought of things ever being okay gave you the overwhelming urge to break down crying on the edge of your bed.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have called.” You said, swallowing down the tightening in your throat, ready to hang up before the room started spinning.

“Y/N, don’t apologize,” he was talking to you; you could hear it. Maybe it was his tired voice that sounded so welcoming and soft, or that someone was showing you an ounce of attention and familiarity. It was a call to an anchor in the storm.

“Can…can you just talk to me, please?” You gripped the sheets.

There was a sigh, and then, after a long second, his voice filled your ears once more, echoing deep, “About what?”

“Something.”

There was more silence, and his tone was hesitant when he inquired, “Something specific?”

Trying to soothe your nerves by smoothing your hair, you forced yourself to say, “Tell me why you did it?”

“Did…what?”

Looking down at your legs, you bit back the anger at the doctor on the other end of the line by pinching your thigh. The sting helped you bite back any trace of bitterness as you spoke, “Cheat on your wife with me. How the fuck did that happen?”

He laughed, a half-amused noise. “What’s wrong? Was your visit to Sunday school unsatisfying?”

“Zayne.” You whined, feeling anxiety thrum in your chest, “This is serious!”

Another chuckle, this one almost fond but with an edge of self-deprecation. If it hadn’t been for the occasional hum of the hospital in the background, you could have sworn he was in front of you. His voice was so smooth, and the tone was kind and husky for sleep or lack thereof.

“I…let myself lose control.” He explained, “My judgment was clouded. And I told you upfront I was married, remember? Those first couple times we saw each other.”

There was pain, awful, almost stabbing within your chest. You closed your eyes and slumped forward, your head nearly between your knees. “I know.” Your voice was strained. “I know, but I didn’t care. I pretended not to.”

“Well, you deserve better than that, obviously.” He joked, but it sounded playful. Almost teasing. The sound of keys in the background clinked together, the squeak of metal on metal. You wondered what part of the hospital he was off to, probably the cafeteria for coffee.

“Still,” you leaned further over, eyes closed and breathing slow. “I love you.”

You could picture his hazel eyes whirling with internal conflict, the tic in his cheek giving away to nervousness. And the thought made the butterflies in your stomach fester. After another bout of silence, broken only by subtle rustling of movement in the background, his voice settled around you.

“I have to go. I can’t-” he took a breath. “I need to focus right now.”

There was that awful, aching pain again. One that the hum of the call barely obscured. You swallowed. “Okay. Fine.”

“Alright.”

“Bye.” You waited, and a soft noise was his response. Was it a chuckle? A groan, an exclamation of pain? It was hard to tell as the call ended, and you slumped face-first into the pillow beside you.

You cried, desperate and shaking, clinging to the comforter until your hands were sore. Tears slowed as exhaustion crept up, and you fell asleep alone.

He was a man of faith, an agent of God who set out every morning ready to take on his assigned duties with honor and integrity, and - unfortunately, now he was struggling at the worst possible time.

Sunlight pierced the thin windows of the rectory, and Sylus stirred in his too-short bed, his feet hanging awkwardly off the end. Sylus stretched and squinted against the unforgiving light. He had been dreaming, he thought, something pleasant? What had it been…

Sylus tried to remember.

There she was again, in his dreams – mouth gently open, his name on her full lips, her thighs…

Father Sylus gritted his teeth, reminding himself that dreams were not in his control. It was natural to fantasize, and it needn’t define him. He was a man of God.

And this man of God had woken with a nearly painful erection.

Sylus groaned. He would shower, he thought. The water would relax him, and he could move on with his day, leaving these unwelcome thoughts in the ephemera of his dreams.

Rising from the bed, he stepped across the small room and paused in front of the full-length mirror on the wall.

Was this how she saw Sylus? How she could see him?

His silver hair was messy, falling in his face. His t-shirt was rumpled, the thin fabric clinging to his admittedly well-conditioned chest. His boxers…

No, she would never see him like this, Sylus reminded himself grimly. Those thoughts were disordered.

As he turned from the mirror, his gaze landed on the portrait of Saint Augustine that hung on the opposite wall. The portrait depicted the bishop in his later years, with a face lined with wisdom and eyes shining with spiritual conviction. It reminded him of the life Sylus had committed himself to, the higher purpose he served. He tore his gaze away from the painting.

The woman was a child of God, made in His image. She was more than her body. If Father Sylus felt drawn to her, it must be in a paternal sense. He must focus on her personhood – she had seemed to be doing poorly earlier. Maybe there was some way he could help or guide her to be closer to God.

He sighed. For now, he would focus on the day ahead, taking it one step at a time.

The rectory shower was old. It creaked somewhere deep in the pipes as warm water began to spray from a lime-caked showerhead.

Father Sylus entered the shower and began quickly and efficiently cleaning himself. He admittedly succumbed to minor indulgences like fine soap and hair care products, but he didn’t feel that it was a block to his devotion. It wasn’t vanity per se, more an appreciation of the finer things in God’s creation.

But as Sylus lathered soap on his skin, his erection stayed.

It was maddening. Sylus had to clean himself but… but it felt too good.

Images of the woman flashed through his mind again. Oh, the things they had done in his dreams…

His hand began to slide along his shaft, and Sylus grimaced.

This was wrong, he thought. This was all so very wrong.

Yet as his hand gripped and pulled at him, sliding and squeezing and…

And wasn’t this better than sinning in person? Wasn’t it the lesser of two evils?

Sylus stifled a moan and braced against the shower wall.

This was just a foible of the human body, he rationalized. He just needed to exorcise this irritating lust from his body.

He found a punishing rhythm and thought of her, beating his lust into submission.

Then it happened, and for a moment, he felt ecstasy.

Immediately following that, however, he only felt empty. Empty and alone in a too-small shower in a too-small room and destined for a too-small bed.

Father Sylus resolved to pray.

Tag list: @celestialforce

#lds #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #lads sylus #lds zayne #lads rafayel #lds sylus #lads zayne #love and deepspace fanfiction #sylus x reader #lds sylus x reader #l&ds sylus

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layraket · 5 months ago

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AYO TIME FOR LU UPDATE COMMENTARY YESSSSSSSS

Well i mean, thats the best way of explaining Zelda dungeons, and thats also the thing that makes me love them, great things

Finding the object of the dungeon is one of the main objetives before anythng else, the majority of cases because without it it is impossible to keep going foward

Also holy shit the cane of Pac's design is so beautiful i love it i've been staring at it for a while now its so beautiful

that right there

is Hyrule's special sense for hidden things. Inside his dungeons its more difficult to navigate because of the lack of a map and compass, so he had to learn ways to identify secret rooms and hidden traps

Lucky guess my ass you literally went straight up to where the wall was you know so many things and never acknowledge it i love u rulie

Something that i have learned while playing a lot of the games is that if they give you the map almost at the start it means that the dungeon will be the next thing you will be seeing in your dreams/nightmares (points to snowpeak mansion in tp.)

HE DID THE THING YEAHHH

Beautiful reference i love it

I saw a lot of people pointing out that Legend at the start was really playfull and then started acting more serious and stressed, mostly towards Wild. He's the one together with Wars that has no experience in dungeons, the rest at least know how to manage by themselves, but Wild is a completly different story. Yeah he had shrines and the Divine Beasts, but compared to a real dungeon, filled with traps and full of monsters, going too confident could put in danger his life. And Legend Does Not want That.

As I already stated, Legend does not want to see one of his brothers get in trouble or injured by a dungeon trap if he can help it. He doesn't want to sound too overprotective or that he's exaggerating a little, but he can't really help it, he almost lost one of his brothers, specifically one of the ones that he's most close with

Wind knows how it feels, he has been in that same situation a lot of times. And Sky knows that too. At least Wild now understands how Wind felt that time that he stepped in front of him to recieve a blow in one of the first chapters

Again, Legend is now on his Vet mode, he's the one with most experience and will do anything on his power to avoid any accidents during their stay in this dungeon

the fact that Legend doesn't seem too amused with Wild's small atempt to calm the ambient shows more what i just said. There is no more room for playfully jokes or goofin around, the situation is more delicated and everyone should act acording to it.

Wars is still a little angry with Wild about his impulsive metods, and inside a dungeon like this he will not let the same situation happend again

this is meme material. beautiful.

Four knows this really well, he has gotten competitive even with himself during dungeon exploring, so it makes sense that he will be the one pointing this out. At least if they split up this could be less of a problem and more of a small inconvenient

Now my fav parts without any further context as always!

Small note but the fact that this is the Nervious Scratching The Back Of His Head™ thing that almost all Links do is a little but cool detail, i love it

there was a lot of Hyrule im well feed thanks to this update yesss

art as always belongs to @linkeduniverse !

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu update #lu update spoilers #lu chain #lu hyrule #cuz i love him #lu analysis #well i mean mostly just me rambling abt small things that i notice

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justsome-di · 2 years ago

Photo

Now a Pulitzer Prize winning book (don’t fact check this, just trust me) and featured on Obama’s 2023 Summer Reading List!

You should be reading Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs! Why? See above.

It’s a good story if I do say so myself. And if you read it, you’re a cool kid. Don’t you want to be a cool kid? This is something called peer pressure, and it usually works.

But for real, if you read Nobody Ends Up Dead then you’re going to go on a good adventure with good characters I guarantee you will love. Not to brag, but it is a pretty good story. There’s funny one-liners, a cute plot, and relatable characters that have been developed for years. Just heed warnings at the beginning of chapters. NEUD deals with some heavy topics such as eating disorders.

NEUD is officially all online for free. But you can still access bonus chapters and short stories on Patreon for only $4.

Links:

AO3

Wattpad

Patreon (Patrons had early access to the whole novel and also get exclusive short stories with the characters and sneak peaks for new projects!)

Netflix Previews

Characters’ Playlists

You can also check out my carrd if there are any updates to how/where I post, it’ll probably be the most accurate place to find new or updated links.

Transcript under cut:

The Story is Dope

A New York office worker and a sex worker get set up on a date--one thinking it's a real blind date, the other under the impression it's an ordinary appointment. After realizing it was all a shitty prank, they set out for revenge. Their plan: show up to an upcoming Halloween office party as a genuine couple, convincing the pranksters they genuinely fell in love and refusing to let themselves become the butt of the joke.

Our main characters are Alex, an awkward admin assistant for a medical company who hasn't been on a date since he was a teenager, and Damián, a sex worker who seems way out of Alex's league but keeps insisting on spending time with him so they can perfect their revenge scheme.

The novel features a diverse cast and explores sex positivity. I also like to believe that it portrays sex work well. Damián is a hardworking man, doing what he loves, and meeting mostly great people along the way--but he also would benefit greatly if sex work was decriminalized and therefore had better resources at his disposal.

If you're looking for a story with LGBT characters that's mostly light-hearted but still packs a punch every few chapters, this is it! Overall, it's a happy story.

The Characters!

oh boy the characters!

we got Damián who's hardworking and doting on his lil bro but oh wow does he have some angst

we got Alex who is nothing more than a burning ball of anxiety trying his best--all too relatable

Leo, Damián's bro, is an ally, and he will make sure everyone knows. Also has angst.

Eve, Alex's lil sister, is an edgy teen who's failing calc and runs a queer book club

together, they're a weird lil dysfunctional family

I'll be honest. There's a lot of love in this story. From me and among the characters. The characters love each other, and I think the readers love them, too.

It touches on a lot of loneliness--inspired by how I've felt since Covid started--and a lot of the conflicting emotions that come with being gay. What happy endings do we deserve? What about happy middles?

It's a touching book about learning to be a better person and finding people who love you--platonically and romantically.

Here are some of my fave parts:

And then there was a streak of gray hair that shocked Alex. A streak of gray hair off to the side, nestled close to a salt and pepper beard. Textured hands held cocktails. Little, subtle lines creased when mouths laughed. Alex held his breath. On the packed floor, they were the only people Alex could see. They were laughing and holding each other and enjoying themselves, firmly in the place they knew they belonged. Flashes of teeth pressed against each other, disappearing for long seconds at a time.

“Sorry,” Alex said. “Your arm got heavy on top of me.” “You’re a little mouse of a man. I didn’t mean to crush you.” “I’m what?”

“A dog!” Damián cooed as he sat across from the lesbians. “His name is Yam,” Martin said.

“His name is Yam,” Damián cried. Kris and Clara released Yam and gently nudged him to Damián. Ecstatic, Damián picked him up and set him on his lap. “His name is Yam,” he repeated to Alex. “I heard.”

But he couldn’t deny that he was having a good time. It was like intense yoga with the perk of having a cock shoved up his ass. He was going to feel limber as fuck after.

“Can I do anything?” Alex asked. “To help cheer you up?”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’d like to. If you let me.”

“Wow this sounds great where can I read it?”

Tumblr @justsome-di

Watpadd @justsome-di

Patreon @just some di (link on Tumblr)

AO3 @justsome_di

Updates every friday!

#writeblr #writblr #nobody ends up dead

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jasontoddsmommyissues · 2 years ago

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Let’s Give ‘Em Something to Talk About

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Henderson!Reader

Summary: Y/N Henderson’s relationship with Eddie puts her at odds with Jason Carver and co.

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, bullying/harassment, slut shaming, allusions to sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), Jason being a prick, swearing, Reader is Dustin’s sister but no physical descriptions are used and you can read it as an adopted sibling if you want, I think that’s it but let me know if I missed something

A/N: Alright, this is the first Fic I’ve ever posted on here. I’m honestly a little nervous, but hopefully you enjoy. I’ll probably end up posting this on my Ao3 too so I’ll link that at some point.

My Master List | Ao3

—

“I’m gonna miss you”, Eddie whines as he leans against the locker next to yours.

“It’s one class”, you reply as you swap out your English textbook for history, “that’s, what, an hour?”

“Actually I have Davis’s class next so it feels more like three hours”, Eddie says.

You snort. Mr. Davis has probably been around since the dinosaur era, and if there were to be a competition for most boring teacher at Hawkins High, he would win it hands down.

“It’s not funny”, Eddie teasingly pouts, “I might actually die of boredom.”

“As much as I would hate for that to happen, I’ve got my own class to get to, so unfortunately you’re on your own for now,” you reply.

“Alright well, please tell the rest of Hellfire I’m going to miss them”, he tells you, “and feel free to wear that black skirt of yours to the funeral. The tight one. It’s what I would’ve wanted.”

You roll your eyes affectionately before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“You’re so dramatic”, you say, “I’ll see you later.”

“If I survive that long”, he calls. You shake your head before turning the corner and heading into your history classroom.

“Okay, class”, your teacher, Mr. Price announces once the bell rings, “I’ve written some questions on the board. You’ll find the answers in Chapter 5 of your textbook. Write them down and turn them in by the end of class. You may work with a partner if you’d like.”

You pull your textbook out of your bag and flip to a clean sheet in your notebook. You don’t have any friends in this class, so you figure you may as well just do it yourself and get it over with. That is, until a voice startles you as you’re about to start reading the first page of the chapter.

“Hey, Y/N. Do you wanna work together?”

You blink up at the source of the voice and are pretty sure you must be hallucinating. That’s the only explanation you can think of as to why Jason Carver would be asking you to be his partner.

The two of you have been in the same grade since Kindergarten and you can't think of a single time in all those years that he’s directly acknowledged your existence. The closest thing you have to a connection with him is that your little brother is friends with one of his new Basketball recruits, but you kind of doubt he even knows or cares about that. There’s a few members of his little posse he could be asking to work with him, so you have no clue why he’d be asking you of all people. But, you don’t have anyone else, so you shrug.

“Sure, I guess”, you say.

“Great”, he smiles, moving to sit down next to you.

“I’ll get started on number 1”, you suggest, “maybe you can do number 2 and we’ll compare?”

“Sure”, he says sweetly. You’re honestly getting a little freaked out by how friendly he’s being.

You both do your agreed upon work, and then switch off to show each other your answers.

“So?” you ask when he’s finished reading yours, “does that seem right?”

“Yeah”, he replies, “you’re good at this. You ever thought about being a tutor?”

“Oh, no, not really”, you say.

“See, I just ask because our youth group has this program where some of us older members help the younger kids out after school and stuff.”

“Oh, that’s cool”, you tell him, not really engaged the conversation. It all sounds well and good, but you really aren’t interested in being a tutor at the moment.

“You know, the church has a lot of great programs”, Jason continues, and you’re not sure what any of this has to do with the Byzantine empire, which is what you’re supposed to be discussing.

“Okay”, you say.

“They do a lot of outreach, a lot of stuff to help people who have lost their way.”

“Lost their way?” you inquire, a small part of you beginning to understand what’s actually going on.

“Yeah. You know. Made bad choices, got mixed up with the wrong people.”

“Um, I think we should just get back to the assignment”, you suggest, uncomfortable with the discussion and not wanting it to go any further.

“Look”, Jason sighs, “what I’m trying to say is, I don’t know you very well, but you seem like a nice girl. I’d hate to see you go down a bad path.”

Okay. You get it now, and it’s starting to piss you off.

“Thank you, but I’m doing just fine”, you insist.

“You’ve been hanging around with Eddie Munson”, Jason says, as if it’s some scandalous secret and not just you spending time with your boyfriend, “you really shouldn’t do that, you know…”

You stare at him, a little dumbfounded he would just up and say such a thing to you.

“You can’t be serious…”, you say.

Jason leans in to you, a deadly serious expression on his face.

“I’ve heard about guys like him before”, he tells you, “I know the stuff they’re into.”

Yeah, so do you. It’s tabletop role playing games, which is about the least nefarious activity you could possibly think of. Jason clearly doesn’t see it that way, though, because he’s still going on.

“And I know they like to lure innocent people like you into their little organizations. I’m telling you, Munson is bad news. You should stay away before you get hurt.”

You seriously have to hold yourself back from laughing right in Jason’s face. You’re not sure what reality he’s living in, but it clearly isn’t the same one you are. Last weekend, you and Eddie had watched Terms of Endearment and he’d started to cry (well started tearing up at least, even sniffled a little, though he vehemently denied it). There’s not a single situation in which you can ever imagine him causing you intentional harm.

“Okay, you know what”, you say, “I think I’m gonna finish the rest of the assignment alone, thanks.”

Jason grabs your arm gently but firmly. “I’m serious, Y/N. He’s dangerous. Stay away from him before you end up hurt or killed.”

You’re really not sure what the most offensive part of all this is. It’s either that Jason thinks that somehow Eddie Munson, your lovable dork of a boyfriend,is secretly an evil Satanist cult leader, or that you’re apparently too stupid or naive to make that kind of judgment for yourself. Maybe it’s that he volunteered to work with you on an assignment and acted all friendly with you just so he could get this opportunity to preach to you about your supposedly “dangerous” lifestyle. He’s never given you the time of day before, after all.

“I don’t know what it is you think you see in him, but I promise you it’s not going to end well.”

You snort. Is he, what, jealous or something? He’s got a girlfriend, after all, and plenty of other girls who’d be willing to take her place if she were to leave him. It’s kind of sad that he’s apparently so insecure that the mere thought of Eddie Munson getting female attention is enough to have him losing his shit like this.

“Whatever”, you spit, “just leave me alone.”

He glares at you, but ultimately turns his attention to his textbook and doesn’t speak to you for the rest of the class.

You happily shove the encounter out of your mind once the bell rings. You’re perfectly content with the social circle you keep, and you’re not going to let some jock with an inflated sense of self importance change that.

Jason apparently doesn’t do the same because he spends lunch glaring at you from his table. Granted, him shooting disgusted looks in the general direction of the Hellfire Club is a regular occurance, but today he’s making it obvious his ire is directed specifically at you.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Eddie asks.

“I dunno”, you shrug, “he’s just an asshole.”

Eddie peers at him for a moment and you can see a familiar glint of mischief twinkle in his eye. Before you can comment, he’s dramatically pushing himself to his feet and sauntering over to Jason and company.

“What do you want?” Jason demands.

“Couldn’t help but notice you staring”, Eddie says, “just wanted to let you know that I’m flattered, but unfortunately you aren’t really my type. Sorry.”

“Fuck off”, Jason barks, “disgusting freak.”

“Don’t take it too hard”, Eddie says, giving him a joking pat on the shoulder before making his way back over to you. You stifle a laugh at the indignant look plastered on Jason’s face. Eddie shoots you a proud grin and you shake your head affectionately. Jason clearly doesn’t know shit about “guys like Eddie.”

The next few days pass by uneventfully. Jason doesn’t try talking to you again, which you’re thankful for. Wednesday starts out normally, you go to history, and Jason roundly ignores your presence. Then you have to go to your next class, which is gym.

Definitely not a favorite of yours, and you don’t even have Eddie in your class to ease the pain. You make it through your warm ups, and then the coach has you split up to practice your volleyball serves. Everything’s going well until Andy, one of Jason’s buddies, approaches you out of nowhere.

“Hey, Henderson”, he says, a smirk on his face, “you think you could score me some weed?”

You look at him, confused. You don’t get involved in Eddie’s side hustle, so you’re not sure why he’d ask you.

“What?”

“Oh, I just figured you probably get a good discount”, he goes on, “I mean, that’s why you let Munson fuck you, right?”

You freeze in shock, your cheeks starting to grow hot. You can’t say you’re used to people making comments about your sex life, especially not to your face.

“I mean, I gotta say”, Andy continues, a cruel glint in his eye, “I didn’t take you for a slut. But come on. Spreading your legs for that freak? Jesus, that’s sad. You know, I’d be happy to show you a good time, since you’re so desperate for it.”

You can only stand there, mouth agape. Sure, you’ve gotten a gross comment or two from a male classmate before, but nothing like this. You certainly have never been called a slut before. You try to formulate a response, but you can’t come up with one. It doesn’t matter anyway, because the coach’s whistle rings out, signaling for you all to hit the changing rooms. You dash out of the gym, more than pleased to be away from Andy.

You hop in the shower in the locker room, take a few moments to shake off the discomfort of the interaction. You’re not entirely successful in that endeavor, because it keeps playing in your mind even after you’re dressed and making your way back into the hallways.

You have no idea where the hell Andy came up with all of that. At this point, it’s common knowledge that you and Eddie are dating, but you don’t know where this idea that you’re sleeping with him for drugs came from. It couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Hey, Beautiful”, you’re distracted from your thoughts by Eddie, who comes happily bounding over to you. His face falls when he sees the look on your face though.

“You okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine”, you say. Something about the idea of telling Eddie about what happened leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It’s embarrassing, and you definitely don’t want him to feel like it’s somehow his fault that Jason and Andy are giving you a hard time.

Besides, it doesn’t matter. Once again, nothing they say about you or Eddie is true. You can’t let some stupid jocks get to you.

Honestly, you probably could’ve been okay, if that was the end of it. Unfortunately, things only get worse the next day.

As you make your way to your seat in history, you catch sight of Amber and Samantha, two cheerleaders who like to hang around Jason and the others, whispering as you walk by.

You ignore them, figuring you’re being paranoid and they probably aren’t even talking about you, but when you sit down, Amber turns and looks you right in the eye.

She raises her voice then, clearly intending for you to hear what she’s saying.

“I hope she’s gotten tested”, she tells Samantha, “I can’t imagine what nasty shit the Freak is passing on to her.”

You take a deep breath, turning away from her.

It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself, it’s not true.

“I hope the drugs are worth it,” Samantha says.

You clench your jaw as you slip into your seat. It shouldn’t bother you so much. It's not true, and even if it were, who cares what Amber and Samantha have to say about it?

You’re dating Eddie because you like him. You like the way he’s always joking around and making you laugh, you like that he makes a point of looking out for Dustin and his friends, you like the way he looks at you with those big puppy dog eyes and flashes that mischievous grin. Cheap access to his drugs has never even crossed your mind.

You shouldn’t concern yourself with what they say, you know that, but hearing your name in connection with “slut” grinds at you.

During gym class, you do your best to avoid Andy, because everytime he notices you looking at him, he’s making some suggestive gesture at you. You don’t bother telling anyone about it, since Andy’s on the basketball team and the coach would probably take his side.

In the hallway, you accidentally bump into Patrick from the basketball team. You mutter an apology, which he accepts, but his girlfriend gives you the dirtiest look you’ve ever seen.

“Don’t talk to her”, you hear her tell him as you walk away, “she’s a slut.”

All of the gossip has put you in a foul mood by the time you get to your second to last period of the day, which happens to be study hall.

Like always, it’s in the cafeteria, with you and a bunch of other students of varying grade levels all sitting around doing your homework. Technically, you’re not supposed to talk, but the teacher in charge is way too underpaid to worry about enforcing that, so you can usually get away with conversation as long as things don’t get too rowdy.

You’re not taking advantage of that today, rather trying your best to distract yourself by actually doing your homework. You’re halfway through summarizing Act 3 of Hamlet when you hear someone say your name.

“Hey, Y/N…”

You’re confused when you look up to find Lucas standing there. Technically, you’ve known him for years, but it’s not like you’ve ever associated with him outside the time he spends with Dustin.

“What?” you ask, a little meaner than you mean to.

“I just thought you should know that…well, I think Jason has been going around saying things about you.”

Of course. You should’ve known Jason was behind this. Jason fucking Carver. Captain of the Basketball Team. Active member of the local church. Son of one of the most respected families in Hawkins. He’s clearly used to people listening to whatever he has to say. Apparently, his ego couldn’t handle you dismissing his comments about your relationship with Eddie.

Jesus, you’d always known he was a bit of an asshole, but this is a level of pettiness you’d never expected, even from him.

“Don’t tell him I told you”, Lucas adds, “but I just thought you should know.”

“Thank you”, you say. You’re definitely glad to have that piece of information.

The next day, you storm into Mr. Price’s classroom with righteous fury coursing through your veins. You bypass your desk and instead march straight up to Jason.

He pauses his conversation with Andy and Samantha when he sees you approach.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You demand.

“Excuse me?” Jason asks.

“I know you’ve been starting rumors about me”, you tell him, “what exactly is your problem, Jason?”

“Me? I don’t have a problem”, Jason insists, “I just think it’s fair the men of Hawkins High get a warning about your ‘extracurricular’ activities.”

You can feel heat flood your cheeks.

“You’re a dick, Jason!” you hiss.

“You know, Y/N”, Jason retorts, “I actually feel bad for you. I mean, no decent man is ever going to want you when they find out you’ve been giving it up to some trailer trash freak.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about”, you snap.

“Believe me, I know exactly what happens to girls who hang around with filthy, Satan-worshiping scumbags”, he says, “and you know what? I’m not going to feel sorry for you when they’re finding your body dumped in the woods.”

“Get over yourself!”

“Whatever”, Jason shakes his head, “I’m not gonna take the attitude from some little slut.”

You’re not fully in control of yourself during what happens next. One second you’re standing there listening to Jason degrade you, the next your fist is connecting with his face.

He stands there, stunned for a moment, before opening his mouth to say something. He doesn’t get the chance though, because Mr. Price gets to it first.

“Ms. Henderson”, he gasps, “Mr. Carver, what on earth is going on here?”

“She punched me in the face”, Jason spits accusingly.

“I-I…I’m sorry I…”

“Enough”, Mr. Price sighs, “I want both of you going to the principal’s office right now!”

You’re in deep shit. That much is immediately clear. You punched Jason Carver in the face. It’s not like you even claim it was self defense, since he didn’t do anything physical to you.

“So”, Principal Higgins sighs, “tell me what happened again?”

“She punched me in the face”, Jason hisses.

“Is that true?”

“Yes”, you sigh, “but he called me a slut.”

Principal Higgins rubs his temple, processing the information. Meanwhile, Jason’s gaze is fixed firmly on you, his eyes full of hatred.

“Mr. Carver”, Higgins says finally, “that is not appropriate language to use in regards to another student. You may go back to class, but I better not hear about something like this again.”

Jason stands and marches out of the office, as if he has a right to be pissed about Higgins’ scolding. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he gets a slap on the wrist. Nobody wants to punish the star basketball player. You’re certain that if it were anyone else, Eddie or Dustin or one of the other Hellfire Club members, they definitely wouldn’t be getting off so easily.

“Now, as for you Ms. Henderson”, Higgins says, “we do not allow for any sort of violence in this school. However, in all your years at this school, you have never had to receive any form of discipline. So I’m willing to be flexible here. Normally, something like this could be grounds for suspension, but since this is your first time, I say it’s two weeks detention after school starting next Monday. Does that sound fair to you?”

Not really, no, but you can’t say that.

“Yes”, you reply instead.

“Alright. Good. Now go back to class. And Ms. Henderson, I sincerely hope I won’t have to see you in my office again.”

You’re in a bad mood when Mr. Price’s class finally ends. You’ve gone your entire high school career without getting a detention and now you’ve ruined that over some pompous dick bag. Speaking of, Jason has been staring daggers at you since you returned to class, and is continuing to do so even now as you’re leaving.

There’s a tense, awkward moment where you both stand there in the hallway, glaring at each other, but it’s broken when the force of a body colliding with your back almost takes you off your feet. Jason is forgotten when a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“Eddie”, you huff playfully.

“How’d you know it was me?” he asks as you turn around to face him.

“Cause you can’t keep your hands to yourself, Munson”, you reply.

“Don’t blame me”, he replies, “you know I’m powerless to resist your charms.”

Before you can reply he’s pulling you close and beginning to press kisses to your cheek. You know the two of you are making a scene, and on any other day you might be a little self conscious about it, but today you’re just glad to have him around.

His kisses stop suddenly and you realize he’s stopped because he’s finally noticed Jason’s hateful glaring. Unfazed as always, he just flashes a cocky smile and gives Jason a mocking impression of a friendly wave. Jason makes a face like he’s wishing for both you and Eddie’s violent deaths.

“Geez”, Eddie comments, “he looks pissed.”

“Um, yeah, probably because I punched him in the face”, you mutter.

Eddie’s eyes widen in obvious surprise.

“He had it coming”, you add, “he was being a Dick.”

You know you don’t have to defend yourself to Eddie. He knows better than anyone how nasty Jason can be.

“My, my, Fair Lady Henderson”, he smiles, “I dare say that was very Metal of you.”

“Yeah, well, Higgins didn’t think so”, you reply, “I got two weeks detention for it.”

“Ol’ Higgins never did have a sense of humor”, Eddie says, “but from where I’m standing, you’re basically a hero.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah”, Eddie tells you, “Jason and his goons have been making our lives miserable for years.”

You can’t help but smile at that. You’re definitely not happy with the day’s events, but knowing Eddie’s on your side makes it a little more bearable.

On Monday you begrudgingly make your way to Mrs. Cline’s room for your first day of detention.

“Ms. Henderson?” she asks when you walk in.

“Yeah”, you say, a little embarrassed.

“Wonderful”, she says, checking your name off of a list in front of her, “please take a seat.”

There’s only two other people in there with you, so you just pick a seat as far from them as possible and sit down.

“Alright”, Mrs. Cline says, “looks like everyone’s here except…”

“I’m here.”

You look up in surprise to see Eddie come walking into the room.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Munson”, Mrs. Cline says dryly, “what a surprise. Please take a seat.”

You know that Eddie isn’t a stranger to detention, but it’s weird that he didn’t mention anything to you when you’d told him about it. He walks over to the desk next to yours, looking way too pleased for someone who’s about to serve a stint in detention.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Oh, you know, got caught vandalizing the boy’s locker room during free period”, he tells you.

“What? When?”

“Friday”, he says with a satisfied smirk.

You frown. This must’ve happened after the whole Jason thing on Friday which means…

Which means Eddie did it knowing that you were also going to be in detention.

“Eddie”, you say, “did you get detention just because I did?”

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?” he grins.

You can’t help but smile along with him.

“Mr. Munson, Ms. Henderson”, Mrs. Cline calls from her desk, “no talking during detention.”

Eddie mimes zipping his lips and waits until Mrs. Cline looks away before giving you a playful wink. You stifle a giggle.

You don’t know Jason all that well, but you’re pretty sure he would never dream of landing himself in detention just to keep his girlfriend company. You’ve never seen him make a scene in the middle of the hallways to get her to smile. That’s the thing about this that really gets under your skin. Jason and the others don’t know shit. They think that just because Eddie doesn’t fall into their narrow definition of “acceptable”, he must be scary and dangerous. They think that just because you’re not afraid of him, you must be dirty and corrupted. They’re too close-minded to look closer and see that Eddie is the sweetest boyfriend you could ever imagine, that you spend time with him because he makes you happy. They’d rather write him off as a freak and you off as a slut than accept that maybe their perception is wrong.

You’re far from being a violent person, but you can’t say you regret what you did. Jason deserved to be put in his place, and it’s not like you did any serious damage to him anyway. You’re glad you stood up for yourself, for Eddie. You’ve probably tacked “psycho bitch” onto your already unflattering “whore” reputation, but at this point, you’re not sure you care. If being a freak means you get to spend your days with the love of your life, you will gladly accept that label.

After the designated two hours are up, Mrs. Cline dismisses you all.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad”, you say as you and Eddie start making your way through the hall.

“Nah”, he replies, “I mean it’s boring but it’s not bad.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely not planning on having to do this again”, you continue, “but it’s bearable.”

Eddie nods.

“I’m sorry, by the way”, he adds.

“For what?”

“Jason and the others. They’ve been giving you a hard time, right?”

“Yeah”, you shrug, “it is what it is. Not your fault.”

“I mean it kind of is”, Eddie replies, “they’re only doing it because you’re dating me.”

“Eddie”, you say, “Jason’s an asshole, okay? That’s not on you. If he can’t handle our relationship, then fuck him.”

That gets a grin out of Eddie.

“You know, you’re getting to be quite a rabble rouser, Henderson”, he jokes.

“I’m learning from the best”, you tease back.

Eddie’s smile widens. He follows you out to your car and then presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“See you tomorrow, Sweetheart”, he says and then heads off to his van. You watch him go, butterflies still lingering in your tummy from the contact.

If you’d actually had any doubts about Eddie, they would’ve disappeared in that moment. That feeling, it’s a one of a kind thing. No one’s ever managed to give it to you before, and you’re not sure anyone else ever will. You love Eddie. He loves you. He’s sweet, and silly and he treats you right. If your peers want to believe a bunch of bullshit about you two, then let them. You know what you have, and you’re not going to let them ruin it for you.

Grinning to yourself, you hop in your car, put the Black Sabbath tape you borrowed from Eddie into the player and head home.

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