#i WILL be stealing ideas and tropes from myself

[forsaire]

So here’s the thing, even before I stumbled onto your blog (which I love), I had been wanting to write a zombie AU as well (which I am still eagerly awaiting, very excited)

But every single AU idea I have had in the last year(s) has for some reason required my OCs to be added in (I think it’s my brain’s way of trying to solve plot holes in their canon by putting them in other environments?)

And I don’t even know if I should actually write the zombie AU or not, or just use it as the brain exercise I think I’m trying to compensate for

And if I do write the zombie AU is it going to be general zombie AU with COD characters or specifically COD Zombies AU? Because we both know how buck wild that timeline is

And on top of that, one of my OCs cannot drive or shoot anything ever so does this even make sense to do? I have been plagued with the thoughts for so long but the scenes I come up with in AU land end up being gems and I really, really want to write them but. But then it’s like. Do I want to publish those fantastic scenes within a fanfic AU or do I want to save them for the actual canon plot? AGH the choices

oh stop it you 😌

ya have to listen to your heart

for me, once i get a delicious scene in my heart, i have to write it (although it's easier for me cause i only ever work on one project at a time)

but fun ideas that don't necessarily fit into the overall story of what you're making can be turned into oneshots as well. tales from the apocalypse type stories that don't need a follow through line.

there's always roles in the apocalypse that don't involve shooting too - skilled trades, working in the kitchen, looking after/teaching children, gardening/farming, engineering, construction, trading, building diplomatic relationships with other settlements, vaccine creation if the world is still advanced enough to have scientists and labs. so im sure if you really were motivated enough, you could find a way to put your OC in a zombie apocalypse story despite not having the skills to kill them.

the easy way to not be conflicted is think of ideas/plot that could only exist in canon vs could only exist in a zombie apocalypse story, then it would be less of a challenge on where you want to insert those ideas

i can't really help, do what you want! i write long, overarching fic with a full plot and focus on developing the relationship between the characters because the demons inside me insist i do. i love the idea of watching ghost and soap fall in love from beginning to end, going through everything together, watching their relationship naturally grow overtime.

[your-nanas-house]

more dark!tommy smut!!!! 🥹❤️🙏

Yup! Wasn't so sure if you wanted the same trope as the previous fics I wrote so I tried something else. 🥰

His fookin' wife

◇ Pairing: Dark!Tommy Shelby X wife!reader

◇ Warnings: heavy DUBCON, angst, Tommy being mean and a man of that period, MISOGYNY, arranged marriage, curses and violence, age gap (both off age).

◇ Summary: Tommy reminds his wife of her place.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Honestly... I hate the way I'm writing so I will apologise for my writing as well. Hope you enjoy 🙇🏼‍♀️.

All his thoughts came to an end as soon as she almost reached the front door.

His big calloused hands moved on their own grabbing quickly but firmly her waist from behind, so to pull her body back and grip her thighs tighly.

A deep inhale followed his actions, making the younger woman shiver as his warm breath brushed teasingly the shell of her ear.

Different emotions kept swirling inside of Tommy, his breath became heavier as his low and seductive voice interrupted the silence in the entrance to their house. Their... since it was hers as well, as soon as he put a ring around her finger three years ago, because of an arranged marriage.

The man could feel his wife's body tensing at his touch, but it just sent a shiver down his spine. His primal instincts kicking in fast, getting into him like a bullet.

"W-What are you doing?" Y/n's weak and panicked voice asked in a whisper, making a small smirk appear on his handsome face. His tongue dared out to wet his lips before he could place them on her neck, feeling her quick pulse against them.

"What do you think I'm doing?" He purred out, inhaling her scent before continuing to speak... his voice way lower and predatory than before. "I'm not going to let you leave the house until I'm finished with you, love—"

" —Or would you rather just leave and go and talk to those Italian lads again?" He mocked, anger and jealousy clear in his tone while his grip tightened at the mere movement of hers... causing the young woman to get even more scared of what was happening.

The prospect of being intimate with her arranged husband sounded... weird to her; he never acted like that with her, just once when he was drunk. Besides that night, their honeymoon of years before had been pretty much cold and calculated, he simply prepared her before stealing her virginity with a harsh thrust and little conversation.

No love or emotions besides lust present in that moment of their life.

The panic and fear made her try to escape his grip, just wanting to leave the house already to mind her own business and not discover this more carnal side of her man. A bad idea since Tommy reacted quickly, now holding her closer against his chest, his hips pressing harder against the soft curves of her covered ass while his cock reacted positively at the situation.

"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily... There's no escaping me, darling. I'm going to keep you right here with me so there's no point in trying to free yourself." His low and threatening voice informed her before continuing after a soft growl caused by the wiggling of her body.

"I'm not going to let you leave unless I say so, and I'm going to keep you here all for myself, as your husband.... as your man."

It has been too long since he had been with his Y/n like that, and the fact that she was fighting him caused him to crave her even more. Her teasing and panicked movements were driving him crazy with lust, the way her curves kept pressing back against his front... brushing his now rock-hard cock just made the blue eyed man want to slam her against the nearest surface and take her like he was craving since a while.

Y/n was sweating cold, her heart beating crazily as her mind raced with lots of different thoughts... her body jolted again at his touch and he pressed her harshly against the cold front door of their house.

A breathy groan left the dark haired man's body as he pinned her against the wood, his hips now grinding against her ass... as his left hand held tightly her wrists together so that his free one could raise up the fabric of the dress she was wearing.

"Fucking hell, luv" Tommy cursed at the view of her exposed lower half, his hand colliding with her right ass cheek, making her whimper at the stingy sensation and whine when he knealed harshly her reddening skin.

"Missed your damn body" he added with a breathless growl, position his bulge between her legs as he pulled roughly her underwear up and leave place to his boner to rub on her butt, nudging her sacrum with each movement.

Y/n's body kept hitting softly the door as Tommy made her move with his tempo, his breath getting heavier and faster just like his thrusts.

His free hand, which had reached for her chest without success, moved now down her spine till his fingers could start to undo his belt and pants... sending a shock of fear in the young woman's body.

At the sound of the belt hitting the floor, her eyes widen and her feet moved on its own, stepping on Tommy's and catching him off guard for a couple of seconds. Allowing her to try to run away, heading quickly upstairs as he just watched her with a predatory smirk on his face... his hand picking up the belt from the ground before he rushed behind her.

"It's useless, I told you already... such a-fiesty-little-wife" Tommy spat with gritted teeth as his hand grabbed a firm hold on her ankle before pulling and making her fall down the stairs so that his body could be pin hers easily.

His broad chest now pressing against her small back as his hand pulled her hair so that her face was tilted towards him

"Don't you wanna be a good wife for your husband, luv?" The older man purred against her jaw, leaving wet kisses as his other hand traveled between her breasts to undo her dress and let easier access to her chest.

"I think we need to revise your duties as a wife and... as a woman.... my woman" Tommy spat out, before pressing her head against the moquette of the stairs, unbothered by the discomfort he was causing her by holding the soft skin of her cheek against that material.

His hold on her hair got tighter as his other hand traveled down, between her legs... moving skillfully aside her panties before thrusting one finger in while he circled roughly her clit.

His eyes closed and he groaned softly at the small thrusts of her hips cause by the jolts of pleasure he was giving her. All rubbing against his aching cock so well.

As Thomas opened his mouth again his tone was more dominating and demanding even if it was breathless

"Just like that... fuck" he cursed softly, opening his pants quickly to pull out his lenght and start grinding roughly against her lower back... his fingers still working their magic.

Y/n's whimpers and muffled cries didn't stopped his monologue after he started it. Telling her what she should have known already... how it was her duty as a wife to stay home, to keep the house in order for her husband. To listen to her husband and to be faithful to him. To support him in his business and to satisfy his needs whenever he wanted... since he was her husband.

Each point of the list was followed by a thrust of his hips and a soft groans of pleasure.

"You need to keep the home clean, to cook meals, and being faithful to your husband... you fookin'— need to look presentable and appealing at all times, making sure to be feminine and seductive for your husband whenever he wants it. Fookin' need to make sure the children are always kept up and taken care of, and you need to take— care of your husband's emotional needs as well" he continued, his groans interrupting his monologue a couple of time as he slowly approached his peak.

His cremaster muscle contracted and his jaw clenched as a soft hiss escaped his lips... his grip tightened around her hip and on her hair, making her scalp burn. Till a couple of thrusts later when he came with a low groan of her name... his cum landing on her precious dress and bare ass.

Y/n's body kept trembling due to the pleasure and the little act he was playing, teasing her cunt since he started to speak to make her desperate and needy for him.

"Understood, love?" Tommy's sweet tone, boomed in her empty head as tears kept wetting her cheeks. A soft yelp escaping her mouth when his hand slapped her pussy, hitting her clit harshly to make her squirt on him and the fabric of the moquette.

The young woman was breathing heavily, a soft sob interrupted the silence followed by a playful slap on her cheek as she kept nodding at what he asked her.

"That's a good woman, eh" Thomas hummed in a mocking tone, before getting carefully up... his icy stare remaining on her as he pumped his softening cock a couple of times

"Now up, on your feet" his business voice kicked in, more authoritarian and dominant than before. His heart was beating fast and his lust was growing even more as the time passed.

Y/n did as he said, forcing herself up on trembling legs; the shock of intense pleasure still making her head feel light and relaxed but exhausted.

As the soft, low voice of her husband smoothed her... his tender praises working as soft caresses after a harsh slap.

"That's a good little wife" he hummed out again, leading her to their bedroom as his lips kept brushing against the side of her bare neck.

"Get undressed for your husband, love" Tommy demanded, stroking her hip as he took care of his own clothes. His eyes never leaving her body as she did what he asked her, looking at him still scared but eager to feel such a surprising sensation again.

The older man's big hands pushed her softly down on the bed by the shoulders, before letting them travel softly up to her face... cupping her cheeks to make her look directly in his eyes "That's way better, isn't it, love?" He asked in a whisper, leaning down to kiss her and let her desire win over her negative thoughts.

A deep sigh left her mouth as a ticklish sensation formed on her skin while Tommy's hand traveled and explored it just like his lips. Resting tenderly against her sternum to place a hard kiss on it... a kiss that started the path of more kisses around her chest and ended with his lips wrapped around her erect nipple.

His calloused hands spread carefully his wife's bare legs, allowing him to move between them with ease while his warm tongue swirled and his lips sucked sensually, moving away with a soft pop.

"Been dying to feel your pretty warm mouth around my cock, honey" he murmured softly, brushing his nose against her jugular up to her face

"Or to feel your hands... breasts.... ass... squeezing me till I'm satisfied—" he continued, stopping just to let a throaty groan leave his body as his tip got squeezed by Y/n's cunt.

Her eyes closed quickly at the feeling of his thick lenght forcing itself inside of her tight pussy... causing a burning sensation that was eased down by the quick movements of Tommy's fingers on her clit

"Fuckk... darlin', if you keep squeezing me like this it won't last long" he murmured through a hiss, snapping his hips forward so that his cock was now fully swallowed by her pussy which held him like a vice.

Her juices started to wet his thighs shamefully as he pressed himself as close as possible to feel the bulge caused by his cock in her lower belly.

"You fookin' loving it, eh?" Tommy asked teasingly, sloppy kissing her lips as she tried to say 'yes' after a choked moan.

And it was true, she was loving it... her body was loving it.

When her husband started to move inside of her, she felt tears gathering in her eyes at the contrast of his firm and quick but still sensual thrusts and his tender, loving kisses.

It was different from the quick fuck on the stairs or the cold sex they had during the honeymoon, he wanted to show her and make her take the right choice... either be fucked like a useless whore or like his wife.

The message was clear and his demeanour was really fucking with her mind just like his body was doing to hers.

She was his wife... his wife.

He kept repeating it as he slowly reached his peak again, his firm but loving grip forced her to look him in the eyes as her back arched and a silent moan left her body. Her toes curled against the cold sheet of their bed, making her realize how warm her body actually was at that moment.

"Fookin' hell, cream around my cock, love" Tommy ordered, lost in pleasure... snapping his hips forward a couple of times before going for a deeper one and stop right there.

His sharp jaw dropping as a moan left his mouth, his seed shot inside of her cunt as curses and praises joined the moment. She could feel it and she was sure that it would have caused consequences as well as a drastic change in their life.

Y/n Shelby... was Tommy's wife.

Only his, his damn property and.. woman. Not anyone else's and he had just proved his point.

[kkvqwrites]

Bedside Manner

Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.

Word Count: 2,587

Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell

CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures

A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!

"Dear? Everything okay?"

The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.

"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.

"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.

"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.

______________________________________________________________

The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.

"It's open!"

Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.

"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"

"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."

"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.

"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.

"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."

"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.

"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.

"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."

"Where are we at?"

"Thirteen minutes, sir."

The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.

"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"

"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.

"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "

"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."

"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."

The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.

"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."

You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."

The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."

______________________________________________________________

Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.

"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"

"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"

Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"

Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.

______________________________________________________________

True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.

The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.

You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.

Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.

______________________________________________________________

"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:

"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."

"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.

"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.

"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."

"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."

"What? How do you know?"

"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."

The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.

"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"

"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"

Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.

______________________________________________________________

"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.

Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.

"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.

"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"

"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.

One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could. 

 The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-” 

Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.

“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."

Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.

______________________________________________________________

You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.

“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.

“Thank God for that,” he replied.

“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”

“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.

“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”

“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”

On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”

“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”

You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.

[writingsbytee]

HIDDEN

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNINGS / TRIGGERS: NSFW; minors do not interact; mentions of domestic violence; self hate; angst; Terry is hard to read in the beginning.

SUMMARY: You’re running away from an abusive ex when you meet Terry working in one of his clubs.

TROPES: grumpy x sunshine ; “touch her and die”; slow burn; 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I took this idea and kind of ran with it. Let me know if you guys like it! I want this to be a series but only if you guys like it. I’m going to try switching POV’s; let me know if you guys like it or if it’s hard to follow.

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

*Please do not plagiarize, repost, or steal my work. This doesn’t count for re-blogs!*

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper out. That fucking asshole shredded my passport. My expired ID will have to do for now. I’m running around the house trying to be as quiet as possible so I wouldn’t wake the sleeping monster who’s my soon to be ex. My phone vibrates in my back pocket, 

LEXI: Parked a block down, lights off.

ME: Give me 3 minutes.

I liked the message and continued to pack, I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I’d been with Rafa (ex boyfriend) for about a year before the motherfucker put his hands on me. I believed him when he said it was an accident. I looked at his tear stained face and heard the crack in his voice and thought ‘he loves me he won’t hurt me again’. Here I am two weeks later with a black eye, split lip, and I’m pretty sure some broken ribs

Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I peek behind me making sure Rafa is still asleep. When I saw that he was, I let out a breath I was holding. I may or may not have slipped some crushed sleeping pills into Rafa’s evening whiskey, ensuring I wouldn’t be interrupted fleeing from his ass. Reaching under the bed, I grab my suitcase that’s pre-packed with everything I need (besides my passport) and head towards the door. 

Before my hand reaches the door handle, I look behind me at Rafa. His features relaxed in this state he doesn’t look nearly as menacing as he did two hours ago when he was beating the brakes off me. Freedom was right in front of me yet, here I was close to tears dying to crawl back in bed with him. I shook my head and took a deep breath. Turning away from Rafa, my trembling hand reached forward to grab the door. 

“Just do it Daphne,” I whisper to myself. With another breath I pulled the door open to what used to be our bedroom and walked out.  I’m doing this for me, saving my life. As dramatic as it sounds I have to get out of this relationship before it kills me. 

“Girl, it’s about time you got in this car! I thought I was going to have to come in that bitch swinging,” my half-sister Lexi said. I threw my bags in the backseat before getting in the passenger side and buckling up. (Lexi's cast pic)

“I got stage fright all of sudden. I didn’t think I’d be able to go through with it, actually leaving him. I uprooted my whole life to be with him and here I am back where I started.” I said on the verge of tears. 

Lexi took a deep breath before turning to me, “ Look Daph, I know what it’s like to be so in love with the potential of a man you’re blinded by who he really is. Rafa didn’t give a fuck about you, he proved that when he put his hands on you. Look in the mirror Daph! I love you sis, and I’m going to support you no matter what, but believe me when I say this. You took your life back today.” My eyes blur with tears as I reach across the center console to pull my sister into a hug. 

“Oh stop it before I start crying,” Lexi lets out a watery laugh before letting me go. We release our embrace and Lexi starts her SUV up, and we drive away. I don’t glance back, ready to leave this life behind me.

2 Hours Later…

“Welcome to your new home!” Lexi sings as we pull up to her apartment complex. I chuckle as we grab my things and head up to her place. 

“The second bedroom has a bathroom right across the hall. I cleaned both of them out so you can make room for all your things. I got you a key fob from the front desk and I already added your name on the lease, but don’t worry about the rent,” Lexi says as she shows me around her spacious luxury apartment. 

I spin, crushing my sister in a bear hug, “I can’t thank you enough for this Lex, I’ll start looking for a job first thing tomorrow. I have enough money saved up to get me through the next few months, so I can help with rent if you need me to.”

Lexi playfully rolls her eyes, “Daphne I love you but please shut up. You’d do this for me in a heartbeat. You’ve always taken care of me, now let me return the favor. Plus I already found you a job.” Lexi and I found each out about each other in middle school and we’ve been inseparable ever since. 

I let out a deep sigh before nodding, “I love you too Lex. Now where’s this so-called job?” I ask, raising a brow. 

Lexi makes her way towards my room, motioning for me to follow her, “You’ll work at the club with me. One of the servers got fired and we’re really short. I put in a good word with my boss Terry, he just wants to meet you first.”

Lexi works at a high end gentlemen's club named ‘Fuse’. When she told me about it I was a bit apprehensive but, beggars can’t be choosers. I figured I can work there, save up for my own place and then go from there.

“Lexi, how am I supposed to meet your boss looking like this? I’ll scare his ass off,” I say motioning to my face. 

“Don’t you think I thought about that? He’s coming here, think of it as an impromptu interview. He’s discreet and won’t ask questions. Sis if you don’t want to do this…,” Lexi trails off. 

I shake my head, “No, No, it’s fine I’m sorry. What time should I be ready?” 

Lexi squeals before jumping into my arms, “I know you’re nervous but Terry’s assured me that we’re working the exact same schedule until you get your footing. If you decide at any time that the club isn’t for you, you can leave.”

I hug my sister back, enduring the sharp pain that comes from my rib cage. the weight of today is finally taking its toll on me, “I think I’m going to freshen up and lay down,” I say, detaching myself from our embrace. Lexi nods before showing me where the towels and things are, and then she leaves me to it. Taking a deep breath I cut the bathroom light on and looked in the mirror.

I gasp out a sob as I take in my features. My bright brown eyes look dull and lifeless, well the one that opens anyway. My lip looks worse than what it is. There’s a slight bruise on my right cheek. The worst is yet to come when I lift my shirt taking a look at my torso. 

“Oh my god,” I sob. I’m a nurse by trade so bruises, cuts, and blood don’t really affect me. But, seeing them on me is doing something crazy to my mind. I deal with cases like this all the time, vowing I’ll never be that woman. And here I am, that woman. I get in the shower on auto pilot. Not enjoying the art of getting clean like I usually do but just trying to get everything done. Once clean I moisturize and make my way into my new room. I don’t know how long I lay there and wait for sleep to take me. 

My alarm startles me awake, I groan and roll over reaching for my phone. Pressing the silence button, I begin to rub my eyes. I groan and roll into a sitting position, my face feeling even more sore than it did yesterday. Making my way to the bathroom, I flip the lights and turn the shower on. My mind reels as it tries to process the last 24 hours. 

Rafa hasn’t tried to contact me, not that he could. I blocked him on everything but, still the silence is alarming. I never told him where Lexi lives, so there’s no way he could know that I’m here. Pushing all thoughts of Rafa out of my mind for now, I start getting ready for my day. After doing my extensive body and skincare routine I threw on a hoodie and leggings. I decided not to cover up my bruises for the moment. Now that it’s the next day everything just looks ugly and swollen anyway. 

After finishing my morning routine I head out to the living room to find Lexi. I can hear her talking quietly to someone, I assume she’s just on the phone. When I round the corner at the end of the hallway I stop in my tracks. There’s a literal adonis manspreading on our sofa. Well over six feet this man is sitting on our sofa looking almost too big for it. God he was fine, I’m in no space to get involved right now but I can appreciate a fine ass man. Hearing my entrance, his eyes shot towards me stopping in my tracks.

“Oh! Daphne you’re awake! Perfect,” Lexi said from somewhere in the kitchen.  Seconds go by and I see her appear with a tray with three cups of coffee on it.

“This is Terry, remember I told you about him yesterday?” Lexi says with a nervous smile on her face. I nod looking back and forth between the two. My gaze lingers a little longer than necessary on Terry. He’s looking up at me with a curious frown on his face like he’s trying to figure me out, and I’m doing the same thing.

I push my shoulders back and walk towards him outstretching my hand, “Hi Terry, I’m Daphne sorry, if I’d known you were here I would have made myself look a little more presentable.”

Terry’s shaking his head before I can finish my sentence, “It’s all good, I was in the area and figured I’d just pop by and meet my new bartender. 

My eyes widen, “Just like that? I’ve got the job? What’s the catch?” 

Terry chuckles before crossing one leg over the other, “Lexi’s right, nothing gets past you. She told me you used to be a flight nurse, so I was hoping you could help me out from time to time.”

My brow furrows, “I’m not going to have to do anything illegal am I?”

Terry takes a deep breath leaning back, his gorgeous eyes assessing me, “We’ll keep that need to know. I won’t knowingly compromise your position or have you do anything that will put your license in jeopardy.”

I go over the details in my head. Could I really do something like this? It was clear to me that Terry was some sort of crime boss. He’s sitting so comfortably in our home like he owns the place (I wouldn’t be surprised if he did). He’s got money but doesn’t want to show it, based on the Rolex and Prada shoes he’s sporting.

“What if I say no?” I say, crossing my arms. 

Terry chuckles and leans forward, “Then I guess you’ll need to go job hunting sweetheart.”

I roll my eyes and look over to Lexi, she mouths ‘say yes’. I contemplate in my mind, I’ve always played it safe until now. I went to nursing school because my mom wanted me to have a “stable income”. I went out with Rafa because he was a “safe” choice yeah, that worked out real nice. I’ve always gone with the safest option, not wanting to disappoint anyone. With recent events plaguing my brain I nod my head. 

“Sure, what the hell. I’ll do what I can within reason,” I say to Terry. 

Terry nods before standing, “Great, I’ll see you both next week, and Daphne all my bartenders wear black. Cover up the bruises but keep the makeup to a minimum.” I nod mindlessly at the things he said.  Standing at his full stature, Terry is muscular, a few tattoos here and there and a face to die for. I was getting starstruck by my damn boss, which cannot happen. He exudes power, commanding each room he walks into, his height and size have nothing to do with it. It’s his aura he just gives off the vibe that he doesn’t take any shit. 

Terry nods to both of us, “Ladies,” he said, and then he was out the door. 

I sigh deeply and lean against the doorway, “Jeez Lexi you didn’t tell me your boss was finer than baby hair.”

Lexi laughs heartily, “Girl, it wouldn’t have mattered. Terry’s like a forcefield, he lets no one in.” I chuckle lightly and roll my eyes, making my way towards the sofa. I plop down and grab the coffee Lexi made. 

“So tell me about the club. What should I expect?” I ask while sipping my coffee.

Lexi settles in next to me, cutting on the TV, “It’s a high end strip club / gentlemen's lounge, so we have lots of politicians, upper level business men, basically anyone who can afford the fifteen hundred dollar membership fee. You and I will work the bar, as long as you show a little cleavage and laugh at their shitty jokes they’ll tip you well and leave you alone for the most part. You don’t have to worry about guys getting handsy, Terry used to be a Marine, so a few of his buddies from back in the day are working security.”

I nod following along, “Does Terry usually show up a lot?” I ask.

“Well, it is his club. So yeah he’s there most of the time in his office. He usually only comes out if there’s a problem,” Lexi said. 

“Hmm,” I reply with a nod. This was definitely going to be an interesting experience.

A WEEK LATER

“Daph! Come on! We’re going to be late!” Lexi yells upstairs. I sighed looking over at myself in the mirror, a simple black activewear jacket and leggings (link). My eye is almost healed, nothing a little concealer can't fix. I’m still favoring my right side because my ribs are still pretty sore.  I spray myself with my sparkling lychee perfume, grab my tote and head downstairs to meet my bratty ass sister. 

“Keep your panties on Lex I’m coming!” I shout as I look for my asics. Once I finally find them I meet Lexi at the door plastering on a fake smile.

“I’m sorry. Are you ready to go now?”,I ask with fake enthusiasm. Lexi just rolls her eyes and opens the door to lead us out. We head to her SUV and make our way to Terry’s club.

“Okay, so what should I expect?” I ask Lexi.

“Well it’s a Thursday night so it won’t be too busy but it’s a good thing you wore those shoes. We’ll be paired together so I’ll make drinks and you’ll take them out. Table one starts to the right of the door, and then they’re numbered clockwise,” Lexi said, adjusting the heat settings in the car. 

“I mean it sounds easy enough. I just haven’t worked in a club since nursing school. I might be a little rusty,” I say, getting self conscious. Lexi reassures me as we begin heading towards downtown. 

TERRY

This can’t be the sister Lexi was talking about, this is going to be a problem. She’s beautiful, fucking astonishing. I can’t even see the bruises, probably makeup which she doesn’t need.  She exudes a softness that has no business being involved with me and my business. I sweep my eyes over her before landing on hers. Lexi told me her piece of dickhead boyfriend beat the shit out of her. She doesn’t look bad, but her limp tells me otherwise. A part of me wants to find the sorry motherfucker and break his knees, but I’m acting too irrational over a woman I just met.

I’ve been watching Lexi show her the ropes from my loft office. She seems to know what she’s doing catching on pretty quickly. I adjust myself for the second time as she bends down to pick up something. 

“Ass fat as fuck,” I mumble watching it sway in her leggings. She drops off a tray of drinks at the police commissioner’s table and I watch as every set of eyes drop to her ass as she turns and walks away. She might be a problem

THE END

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Ok I didn’t want to get too deep in this in case y’all don’t like it. So please please like and comment if you want more. I’m so grateful for you guys I hope you all have a happy holiday season! Stay safe bookies <3

Until next time, 

TEE <3

TAGLIST

@blackgurlnhermoods @dxddykenn @dxddykenn @kianaleani @pinkkycherrish @pinkkycherrishh @greatpandagladiator @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @megamindsecretlair @theereina @earthchica @megamindsecretlair @mogul93 @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kimuzostar @pocketsizedpanther @kumkaniudaku @mymindisneverhere

DIVIDER: @cxrrodedcoffin

[starsofteal]

Daylight

Halsin x Tav // Halsin x Reader

Summary: Tav misinterprets Halsin’s declarations, thinking he must not want her as much as she wants him. Can Halsin convince her of his love? A/N: Well, my first Halsin fic is here! Based off this dialogue from the game, featuring a classic miscommunication trope. When I first came across this dialogue, I found myself rather disappointed by Halsin’s declaration, and I realized I was focusing on all the wrong parts of it. I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, so here we have a scenario in which Tav has done the same. This fic is so self-indulgent it should be a crime. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort (emphasis on the comfort—I promise all’s well that ends well). Pretty spoiler free, except for the opening dialogue if you’re romancing Halsin and you want all that to be a surprise. 

“Relationship?” A deep chuckle rumbles in Halsin’s chest. A sinking feeling settles into your gut. You weren’t sure what to expect when you broached the topic of a potential relationship, but a laugh? A direct blow from an enemy sword would have hurt less. 

“Such terms belong to civilization—a little unfamiliar to my lips.” His words continued, but that soft smile, those kind eyes, the strong, steadfast shape of Halsin, it all begins to shift, distorting just slightly as traitorous tears prick at your eyes. A quick bite of your inner cheek reminds you to hold steady, to not let the tears fall—by every star in that gods damned sky, you are not going to let him see you cry. 

“…you and I should each seek happiness wherever it lies…”

He’s still going on? You think to yourself. How long can one rejection take? You bite your cheek even harder, a coppery tang bursting on your tastebuds. 

Halsin’s words echo in your mind, despite the fact that his monologue seems to continue, piercing your heart again and again, the pain stealing the breath from your lungs. You will yourself to take in another breath.

“Let others know the happiness of being with you.” Halsin smiles down on you, not an ounce of malice in those soft green eyes. The staunch difference between his kindhearted gaze and the red-hot pain radiating in your chest was nearly laughable. In fact, at that very moment, you were unsure if your next steps would include crying, laughing, or launching an all out assault on the mountain of a man before you—an action that would surely not work out in your favor given the comical size difference between you two. 

In the end, it was all you could do to offer a small, meager, “I see.” It’s a notable effort to keep the emotion from your voice, but you’re proud of the attempt all the same.

A frown breaks out across Halsin’s face, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Have I said something wrong, my heart?” 

Those two words are a slap to your face. You don’t trust yourself to speak, not again, so without a word you turn and make your way to your tent as fast as your feet can take you. 

The fabric barely has time to fall in place behind you before the warm tears finally break free. 

_________

Two days had passed since the incident. While you wanted nothing more than to mope about on your bedroll and avoid Halsin altogether, your situation doesn’t exactly allow for such luxuries. 

Which is how you find yourself in the woods with Shadowheart, foraging for ingredients to top off your party’s supply of potions and tonics. Though you left early in the morning, the sun glares bright overhead now. Wiping a bead of sweat from your brow, you crouch low beneath a bush and scan the area for the bright violet blooms Shadowheart had you scouting for. 

“I just don’t understand why you had to drag me out for this,” you fuss at your friend as thorns from the underbrush prick your side. Your clothing offers little protection against natures most irritating defenses. 

“Surely there’s…someone more suited to this than I.” Your following scowl can’t be entirely blamed by the literal thorn in your side, not as thoughts of Halsin flash through your mind once more. 

Shadowheart hums absentmindedly. “Yes, this is true. Halsin is more in tune with the forest,” she mutters, collecting something from the earth too small for your eyes to make out. A soft clink tells you the specimen makes it into the glass bottle. “I was actually hoping to talk to you about that,” Shadowheart continues, popping the cork back on the bottle and tucking it away. 

“About what?” You hiss as another thorn embeds itself in your palm. You toss a scowl her way before distracting yourself from the conversation as you fiddle with removing the thorn. You’re not sure which hurts worse, the abrupt change in conversation topic or the wound in your hand. Impervious to your dirty looks, Shadowheart makes her way over to you. 

“Well, you two were nearly inseparable. Absolutely enamored with each other—anyone could see it.” She takes your hand into her own to assess the damage.

“And now, well, if I’m being completely honest dear, you’re rather dour, you seldom leave your tent, or you’re looking for any excuse to get away from the party—sorry this’ll only hurt a second.” You wince as she pulls the thorn free and presses hard on the wound to stanch any bleeding. “And, well, Halsin’s been…unusually forlorn. Like a poor dog that’s been kicked in the stomach.” 

With a scoff you withdraw your hand, taking care to apply pressure to it just as Shadowheart had done. 

“I couldn’t care less what Halsin’s been doing.” The lie is ash on your tongue. 

Shadowheart looks at you then, really looks at you. You try your best not to fidget under her assessing gaze. 

“What happened?” 

“I—“ 

“And don’t bother lying to me,” she’s quick to interrupt. “Save it for someone else. I know something has been bothering you.” 

Resignation floods you. Leave it to Shadowheart to see right through your bravado and into your heart. 

“I was a fool for thinking he could ever be happy with me.” The words are soft as they fall from your lips, but they burn your heart all the same. A firm weight falls on your shoulder as Shadowheart offers an encouraging hand. 

“Tell me everything.”

_______

Halsin’s voice calls out your name from just outside Shadowheart’s tent. His low timbre still brings a tightness to your chest, but you will yourself to breathe normally. You’d been doing your best to avoid him since getting back to camp with Shadowheart, but you suppose now is as good a time as any to rip that particular bandage off. 

“Yes, Halsin?” You ask matter of factly, not even looking up from the array of ingredients you’re currently sorting through. You pointedly ignore his gaze as he steps into the tent, taking up a majority of the albeit limited empty space. 

Halsin clears his throat, clearly uncertain how to proceed. You two had always shared such an easygoing openness between you,  but the last two days had left him scrambling for purchase. 

“I was hoping we could talk,” Halsin smiles down at you, undeterred by your clear avoidance. 

“Mm, we are talking.” You collect up one of the empty potion bottles, wiping at a smudge spot with the edge of your tunic. 

Halsin forces a chuckle, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course we are, but, erm, perhaps we could go for a walk? Enjoy some of nature’s company for the evening?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Your tone is sharper than you’d intended, but the guilt passes over you in a second as you replay his words in your mind, his scoff when you so much as mentioned a potential relationship. 

Halsin sighs. He had hoped that his 300 odd years of experience would give him a leg up in navigating this prickly conversation, but—as is usual when you’re involved—his heart and his tongue seem to be tripping over one another. 

 “My heart,“

That gets your attention. Your gaze snaps up to his, laced with venom. 

“You do not get to call me that. Not anymore.” 

Halsin feels his own chest start to cave in as the hurt flashes across your face—you master it a moment later, but the damage is done. 

“I’m not sure what I’ve done to upset you,” he starts, but you interject again. 

“It’s fine. I’m not upset,” you force some neutrality back in your voice. “You weren’t interested in things continuing between us, and that’s fine. Nothing to apologize for.” You gesture to the flap of the tent. “You can take your leave now.” 

Halsin does the opposite, braving another step closer. 

“Of course I need to apologize. It appears my words have caused some confusion. Worse yet, I fear they’ve caused you pain.” 

At that, you still, finger pausing over the bottles set up in front of you. 

“You must know that I would never intend to hurt you.” Halsin’s tone was bordering on pleading. “Even now, it physically pains me to know that I’ve hurt you so.” He draws a hand to his chest, moving as if to soothe an ache that’s nestled beneath the surface there. 

You glance up to see the hurt now reflecting in his eyes. It’s enough to bring forth a sigh from your lips, your shoulders caving in as resignation takes over your body. Even now, you can’t find it within yourself to hate him, no matter how much easier it would make this. 

“You’re not responsible for my feelings, Halsin,” you sigh. “They are my own.” 

“No, but I do take responsibility for my words,” he counters. 

“You don’t want a relationship with me and you said as much. There’s nothing left to be said.” Despite your best attempts, your voice breaks on the last word. You close your eyes, clinging to the blunt words, mentally rebuilding your armor to power through the rest of this conversation. 

“There is so much left to say, my heart.” Halsin’s gentle words caress your face like the sun’s rays on a warm summer day. “I have so much left to say.” 

You keep your eyes closed, focus on taking another breath, keeping your heart steady. “Then speak.” 

“I love you.” 

Your eyes spring open, and Halsin is before you, close enough to touch. A large, tentative hand reaches up to cradle your face. You don’t pull away, and that’s enough to bring relief to Halsin’s heart. 

“I don’t understand,” you whisper, afraid your mere voice would crack the perilously thin ice you suddenly find yourself on. “You said—“ 

“That I would not keep you to myself,” Halsin is quick to finish the thought. 

“That we should seek out other people,” you correct, a touch of anger shading the words as you step out of Halsin’s grip. 

At that, Halsin’s eyes widen. “No.” His voice holds more sharpness than the druid had ever shown with you before. “I said no such thing.” 

“Well, maybe not exactly, but the sentiment was there,” you grumble, the frustration seeping through at your hazy memory. 

“That ‘sentiment’ is misguided.” His tone leaves no room for argument, but you do it anyway. 

“Well, forgive me if I don’t have it memorized word for word—I was a little busy having my heart broken,” you snap. 

Halsin pauses for a heartbeat and you watch the pain shine in his pale green eyes at your words.

“And I will never forgive myself for the pain I’ve caused you these last few days. But listen to my words now. I beg of you.” 

Another heartbeat passes. He takes your silence as permission to continue.

“I don’t abide by these conventional rules set in place by society. My home is in nature, and I follow the path the Oak Father has set before me. These ideals of what relationships should or shouldn’t be, you’ll have to forgive me if they're all but foreign to me.” 

Another wave of disappointment washes over you and you close your eyes in a futile attempt to deter the familiar pinpricks of tears. A warm, familiar hand caresses your face before tilting your chin up to bring your gaze to his. 

“But trust me when I tell you that I have never met someone like you. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does for you. What I feel for you pales in comparison to those who came before you.” 

There is no doubting the sincerity that lies in those soft verdant eyes. 

"It feels as though I have been asleep in a centuries long dark night, and now I am finally seeing daylight,” Halsin’s deep voice soothes, each word repairing the aches and tears of your heart.  

“There is no one else for me, my heart. Call it what you wish; you are all I want. Nothing would make me happier than to have you by my side for the rest of my days, if that is what you desire as well.

My love for you runs deep and true. Never doubt it, my heart.”

And then his lips are on yours, and every thought eddies out of your head, but one: Halsin loves you. 

Pure joy and relief floods your body and you don’t even bother trying to stop the tears of joy that follow. Halsin pulls back from the kiss just enough to swipe the tears from your cheek.

“I love you, too, Halsin,” you whisper in the space between you as Halsin presses his forehead to yours. 

“Forgive me, my heart. For the pain I have caused you.” 

You smile up at that handsome face you’ve grown to hold so dearly. Your slender hand  reaches up to caress his cheek, tracing the swirls of his tattoo. “Only if you’ll forgive my foolishness for doubting you.” You feel the shame rise up, bringing a heat to your cheeks.

“My heart, there is nothing to forgive,” Halsin murmurs before pressing another kiss to your forehead.

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

[wip!] the art & science of parenting || jay park

update: this fic's been posted!! click here to read!

a/n: hellaur everyoneeee here's a lil summary & drabble into another wip i'm working on rn,,,i had this idea in the back of my head for SO incredibly long (im talking since 2021 pls) and decided to finally go for it :') so here's a lil peek for the time being to prove i'm still alive heh. i hope you guys like this concept,,,idk why but i really envisioned jay in this trope maybe because i plan on making it very fun & lighthearted but mixed in with some serious & angsty tones...we shall seeeee....you know i love my college!aus and e2l!aus heheh anyways saur sorry im yapping now! lmk what you think & if you want to be tagged !!

genre: jay x female!reader, fluff, comedy, college!au, enemies to lovers!au, parenting!au (parenting a robot baby LMAO), sum angst maybe, both reader & jay are smartasses who don't know how to communicate and confront their feelings , also a bit of photographer!jay :')

summary: The Art & Science of Parenting 101 (PSY1009) – In this interactive course, students will explore the psychological, social, and biological foundations of parenthood. Through a mix of theory and hands-on practice, you'll master the art of raising a simulated baby—aka the 'robot child.' Late-night feedings, tantrum taming, and crisis control are all part of the deal. What you didn’t expect to be part of the deal? Getting paired with Jay Park—the last person you’d trust to raise, well, anything. You’re pretty sure he couldn’t even take care of a pet rock. Now, you’re stuck co-parenting this robot baby together for 40% of your final grade.  Warning: Sleep deprivation is guaranteed. And maybe, just maybe, some unexpected feelings for your disaster of a partner. Good luck!

longer drabble under cut! <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

"Y/N and Jay."  

Wait. What?  

Your head snaps up so fast it's a miracle it didn't pop off your neck and roll away.  

You blink. You must have misheard.  

"Y/N and Jay," Professor Kim repeats as if she could read your confused expression, voice too nonchalant for the life-wrecking news she's about to deliver: "You two are partners."  

The words hit you like a bus. No, not even. The words hit you like a bus driven by a T-Rex that flips over, crashes into a building, and explodes into a million ashy pieces. And there you are—standing right in the middle of the wreckage, somehow still alive to suffer through every second of it—while Jay, smug as ever, whips around in his seat to face you.  

And of course, there it is: that look of his that screams 'This is going to be so much fun for me, and so much pain for you.' 

"Guess we're parents now, Y/N!" Jay chimes, his voice dripping with so much sarcastic enthusiasm you swear he just got handed an Oscar for Most Annoying Human. If that tone were a substance, you'd bottle it up and use it as insect repellent. On him. Repeatedly.  

You blink at him, you're sure—you're praying—this has to be some elaborate prank. Maybe Jay bribed Professor Kim with his rare attempt at turning in an assignment on time just to mess with you. Or maybe the universe just hates you and this is your karma for stealing your roommate's last ramen packet that one time a year ago.  

But no, Professor Kim keeps rattling off other pairs like it's business as usual, as if your entire academic career and sanity isn't currently being flushed down a metaphorical toilet, while you sit there, paralyzed, your brain rapidly melting into a useless puddle from the sheer thought of being paired with him.  

"What's wrong, Y/N?" Jay teases as he leans over the back of his chair towards you. "You don't want to play house with me?"  

You narrow your eyes at him, mentally wielding your imaginary bug spray like it's a holy weapon. "I don’t," you reply flatly. "In fact, I’d rather perform open-heart surgery on myself with a plastic spoon than co-parent with you." 

Jay’s eyes light up as his hand goes to his heart. "Aw, you really know how to make a guy feel special. This is why I like our little relationship, you know?" 

"Relationship?" You scoff loud enough to make the people sitting three rows behind you to glance in your direction. "The only thing we have in common is a shared oxygen supply." 

"See, that’s the spirit," he says, turning back to face the front like he didn't just ruin your life. And somehow, that pisses you off even more. Is it his voice? His stupidly perfect hair? The fact that he breathes in your general direction? At this point, he could literally sneeze, and it would still feel like a personal attack.

Is it too late to switch majors? Or schools? Maybe even countries? Surely, restarting your entire college career as a super senior would be better than spending the next six weeks parenting with Jay. Jay Park, who has probably never held anything more fragile than a Red Solo Cup.  

Jay Park, who is just sitting there, all calm and collected, clearly loving every second of your misery.  

While you're frozen in pure, unadulterated horror.  

Your grade? Plummeting as we speak.  Your robot baby? Probably going to need therapy by day two.  And you?  

You're screwed. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

decided to go for a longer sneak peek than usual bc im very excited about this one heh :) i also changed up my title image formatting..trying out smth new !!!

lmk if you want to be tagged!

<3, addie

[sailoryooons]

I am going to say something that has really been bothering me that not everyone may agree with, which is totally okay, everyone is entirely valid to disagree with me: There is a fast fashion problem in fandom, specifically fanfiction.

Disclaimer: This conversation is not about broadly writing the same tropes, genres, and ideas. I am not talking about people writing fics with similar themes or the same name. I am specifically talking about people writing fics that are very obviously heavily influenced by other fics. This is not me talking about: I wrote __ character as enemies to lovers vampires and so did this person so they stole. Please do not trivialize this conversation with instances that are very obviously not what I'm talking about.

As someone who exists in the fanfiction space, I want to express what I have seen specifically in this space in my own experience, my mutuals experiences, and random experiences I have seen on my dash.

Recently, it seems like there is a reoccurring theme of writers (often new writers) taking "inspiration" from fanfics that they love and value and essentially creating their own version of that story to the point it is bordering on plagiarism. I say bordering on plagiarism because while people may not be copying line for line or entire scenes in order, you can tell that it is a re-arranged duplicate of another story.

I am not talking about writing similar tropes and dynamics. No one owns a trope or a dynamic. I am specifically talking about people taking the plots, scenes, concept and core of fanfics and recreating it and changing some plot elements or placing it in a different alternate universe and calling it their own, when at the heart of that fanfic, it is taken from someone else's creation.

This to me, reads like people who read a work, fall in love with it, but think 'this is easy to do, I can do this myself' and they end up making a replica of a fic that you can tell is a replica of another fic, despite adding some changes. Nine times out of ten, these inspired fics lack the obvious thought and heart the original writer put into it.

Which, begs the question: How is this different than fanfic writers taking inspiration from media (i.e. published books, movies, music, shows)? Because fanfiction is meant to replicate a specific something from published media. It is not meant to duplicate an already established fanfiction contribution.

I know that the nuance between that line is very ambiguous and it brings up the discourse on 'should there be fanfiction of fanfiction' - to which my response is it is, generally, pretty obvious what the difference between being inspired by a fic and copying a fic are.

In the last few months, I have lost count of how many times I or mutuals have a) discovered someone has been writing a story based off of their fic 2) have been asked to use an already written work to make their own or 3) already have started writing works modeled after an already written work and in hindsight asked the author if they could keep doing so (this third instance almost always happens after someone accuses them of stealing another work).

This feels like the fast fashion industry. Someone finds a story that is popular (whatever that means to the individual), takes all of the elements they think makes the story works, rearranges it, posts it as their own and and says they were 'inspired' (if they credit the original story at all).

This is why so many works that readers are coming across feel like they are the same thing. It is the same A + B + C = D over and over and over again, because people are outright just taking what they think works from other stories and using it.

Again - I am not talking about people who come across a trope, AU, genre or dynamic they like and add something similar to their story. I am talking about the people who are very intentionally and obviously writing the same exact fic with their own 'twist' (whatever that means).

Why is this a problem (beyond the fact that it's essentially roundabout plagiarism)? You're taking the heart, soul, and creativity someone poured into something and posting it on your own and robbing it of the originality, the essence, and the intention behind it. You cannot replicate a writer's feelings and obvious emotions that they have poured into the original work, and it shows. And it is gutting to the original authors who are finding remixes of their work across the fanfiction space.

Please consider whether or not you are inspired by a story or if you are redoing it in your own image. If you find yourself worried enough about your story that you feel like you have to publicly credit someone to avoid scrutiny, perhaps the question needs to be asked of whether you're just redoing what someone else already wrote.

Please do not confuse inspiration and recreation. 9 out of 10 authors will love that they inspired you to write, but would not love to find that you wrote a fic inspired by them that is a rearranged or hollowed-out version of the fic they wrote.

The fanfic space wants and needs more writers, but it does not need people unwilling to create their own art, instead taking bits and pieces from others and calling it a success.

Also adding: This problem also directly contributes to 'smaller' writers or more niche (often queer and bipoc) stories not getting the hype, readership, or recognition they deserve. On more than one occasion I've seen stories that had explicitly queer or bipoc characters taken and turned into heteronormative or white-presenting stories.

Note: This 1000% goes for actual visual art as well, including gifs etc. in fandom but I'm not well-versed there and thus, did not include it.

[saintobio]

plagiarism.

trust me when i say, this is the last thing i want to write on here. but i really, really want to stress the difference between being “inspired” by an existing work, to outright copying the plotline, the characterizations, and basically just rewriting the story overall.

i myself have so many inspirations when i write my fics, and i always write into detail what they are based off of (since i do take heavy inspirations from books, movies, and a hell lot of manhwas). but scene per scene? plot per plot? i would never dare. and i don’t have the guts to take inspos from other fanfic writers, because i don’t want them to feel uncomfortable or that i am trying to take a piece of their hard work and transforming it into mine.

you know who you are. i don’t want to expose you. and i would never, ever wish to send hate your way.

the reason i’m writing this is because i saw a series that has the same exact formula and line of events as sincerely not, and that i had not been reached out to ask if it was okay to take “inspirations” from my series.

i understand that similarities can naturally happen between two fics. after all, there are so many existing fanfiction in this space that it’s not impossible to see the same ideas being executed in a story.

however, when you write a fic that follows the exact same flow, same themes, and same format as another fic, especially after saying you were inspired by “fanfic x”, then that tells a different story.

THAT IS PLAGIARISM.

arranged marriage? normal trope, sure. ceo gojo, again nothing new. but writing your first chapter the same way how sincerely not went, writing their “first night” the same way i did, writing their “bora bora” trip the same way i did, creating a character exactly like sera, even down to eula and yuuta, and gojo’s abuse from his father, is no longer just being “inspired”.

that is stealing someone else’s intellectual property, and completely rewriting it as your own.

i have spent sleepless nights writing that series, building my plot, and molding my characters, only to see someone else write their own story using my ideas and it pains me that i have to keep writing about this here, and that it’s a recurring issue that keeps happening not only to me but to other writers on this app. please, all we want is for our hard work to be respected and appreciated without being stolen. this has become such a taxing issue to deal with and i am hoping, begging, that this be the last time i ever talk about this.

so please, respect the author’s work and do not steal.

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (13)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, longing, abandonment issues, crazy reader, fluff, "moving in together the crazy way"

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (12)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Bucky stares at you as if you lost your mind. He swallows audibly, all the while keeping an eye on your surroundings.

“You want me to do what?” He questions, still confused about your reaction. “Doll, you can’t be serious.”

You pucker your lips and huff. “That’s what secret admirers do, right? I read all about it online. You watch a pretty dame, fall in love, and steal her away.” You insist. “So, I’m waiting, Sir. I got all I’ll need.”

“Y/N—I,” Bucky watches you watching him. You huff, and pout. “What about your apartment and your job?”

“My job is a dead end,” you sniffle. “All the hard work to get a promotion and that newbie got it. I’m always on time, friendly and reliable. I did all the hard work for the new assignment, only for her to pretend she did most of the work. Not only that, but I showed him proof, that in fact, I did all the work, but he didn’t care. Because she’s sucking his dick.”

“Language, doll,” Bucky tuts. He’s still a gentleman from the forties. “What about your life? Your family and friends?”

“I got no family left.” You shrug. “And, I don’t have many friends. If they are even friends.” You lick your lips while giving Bucky heart eyes.

“What about your job? Maybe you can still make a career,” he offers, suddenly unsure if taking you away from your life is the right thing to do. Your reaction scared him to the bones. He should be happy, but somehow, your behavior has him on his toes.

“Burned bridges,” you say, and step closer to Bucky. “Why don’t you bring me home, my secret admirer.” You coo the words while pushing your duffle bags into his hands. “I have nothing left in this world but you.” You dreamily stare into his eyes, sighing softly. “I only want you, Bucky.”

Bucky looks in all directions. He drops his eyes to your suitcase and hums. Suddenly, his features darken, and his metal hand wraps around your wrist.

“Remember,” he whispers lowly, “you asked to be mine.”

You giggle when you end up in his arms, his metal arm wrapped tightly around your middle. “Where to, Mr. Barnes? This lady is ready to get kidnapped.”

“You’re going to be only mine, doll,” Bucky whispers in your ear. “No one will ever take you away from me, Y/N. There is no escaping me.”

You giggle and run around the house; Alpine tugged under your arm. The white fur ball purrs low in his throat as you explore your new home.

Bucky huffs. He can’t believe he didn’t even have to use the pills to knock you out and kidnap you. Crossing his arms over his chest, he thinks about his next steps.

“She’s crazy,” he laughs. Of course, he falls in love with a crazy woman. As if life didn’t fuck him over enough. He lost his arm, his life, his freedom, and his best friend. Bucky is a man out of time looking for meaning in life, only to find a crazy little bug he wanted to collect. “What did I get myself into?”

“Bucky, this house is awesome,” you squeal and run toward him, Alpine still in your arms. “Where’s the bedroom? I want to try the mattress.” You suddenly stop in front of him, giving him a seductive smile. “Maybe you want to try it with me?”

“What? I…” Bucky starts to sweat. He’s nervously tugging at the collar of his black shirt. “We should get you settled in first.”

Bucky quirks a brow when you run off to find the bedroom. He dips his head to look at the small black bag he was hiding in the trunk of his car. Maybe he could still use the drug to help you calm down – or to get a few moments of peace and quiet.

“AWESOME!” You yell from inside the bedroom. Luckily, Bucky found a house far away from others. It’s nestled in the woods, and not easy to find. “YES! It’s memory foam.”

He releases a deep sigh. “She’s crazy,” he nods to himself and decides to unpack his bags and check on the groceries he brought here some days ago.

“Bucky, can I keep this?” You run back inside the living room, wearing a pair of pink, fuzzy socks and one of his old shirts.

“Uh—that’s dirty, and smells,” he says, and points at the dirty shirt you snatched from the laundry basket.

“I know,” you purr, and slowly stalk toward him. “I like that it smells like you.” You stop in front of Bucky to run your right hand over his chest. “Don’t you want me to smell like you?” You sigh, feeling his firm chest under your touch. “I dreamed of smelling like you.”

Bucky makes an odd noise. He cannot deny that he dreamed of marking you as his girl for months. Smelling himself on you is one of his secret kinks. But right now, he’s too confused, and maybe even a little scared that you lost your mind. He cannot take advantage of you. Maybe this is a good moment to call his therapist.

“Thank you for buying all the things I like,” you softly say. “Oh no,” your voice cracks. “I forgot my orchids.”

Your lips wobble and you start to sniffle. You didn’t think this through. All you grabbed were your plushies, toiletries, and a few clothes. And important memorabilia.

“Hey, don’t cry.” Bucky cups your face with both hands. “How about you get settled in and relax? Give me your keys and make a list. I’ll get everything you’ll need tonight.”

“You will?” You sniffle. “Really?”

Bucky presses a soft kiss on your forehead. You sigh and melt against him. Soon after the intimate moment, Bucky will leave the house. He doesn’t tell you that you won’t be able to leave the house…

Part 14

Tags in reblog.

[kamisama1kiss]

don’t mind me, just an anon dropping the idea of Descendants AU Lloyd Garmadon into your head so I’m not the only one suffering with the idea of it

...Wait, this is smart. Since we all know who his father is 🤭 that is so absolutely yummy! I saw this at about 5 am. And had a hard time falling asleep after wanting to see more of this AU. Whoever you are, you're an absolute genius

~~~

Lloyd Garmadon { Rotten to the core }

Platonic headcanons

~

• I can definitely see him wear a lot of dark greens, black and gold details alongside some bone design along his outfit, taking insporation from when he was younger

• He is on the VK island. You can't change my mind

• Being one of the chosen ones to go alongside Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlose to leave for Arudon (if we follow the storyline)

• It took him a lot longer to get used to all the none stealing, discovery of his new favourite food which would be sweets

• Mostly silent or scoffing at others with a nutural expression, but eventually, when getting closer to actually him considering you a friend som smaller hints of smile will be present

• Let only specific people touch him since he had little to nothing or not at all a good connection with his father and his mother, it made him feel weak which is a big no no

• A ton of stolen candy bars hidden under his pillow from the day

• Had naturally a mystery aura around him, being closest to the four other VK with a few others eventually around the school

• Would use his Oni aspect of him whenever anyone gets on his nerves to scare them off or just intimate the person

• Would constantly be on the move. He is everywhere yet nowhere at the same time

Romantic

~

•Definitely the trope of you fell first he fell harder

• It took MONTHS for him to even know what the things he felt meant. After listening in on Evie and Mals' conversation, he would understand what he was infant having romantic feelings

•Definitely in denial, having never felt it before, which did scare him even more. Pushing you away at all cost

•The only reason why the relationship even started had to be because you asked/told him that you felt romantic twords him

• Still in denying it, but decided to try after thinking a few days in a row about it

"I suppose it can't hurt.. trying? Just be aware that it will not be a walk in the park."

"I understand that very well... even went through the thought many of time, I want this"

• The answer only made him feel more secure about his decision and felt safe to let you in, his heart having never gone this fast before, even from all the danger he has gone through

• He stole things for you just because it reminded him of you and thought you'd like it. Knowing it would make you smile made it worth getting in trouble

• No PDA whatsoever, but if lucky, maybe a little pinky finger holding in the start at least. It took months of resuring and convincing, but now, at least, he'd be willing to hold hand. Maybe even a hand on the small of their back

• If anyone says or looked at his s/o weirdly, he wouldn't hesitate to put the person in their place

• Prefers sitting in silence and just comfortably exist next to one another under the moon and stars

• Playing with his hair would simply put him to sleep within seconds. Any sort of touch from his s/o would immediately relax him. Being on guard and tense from being used to the island

I am tempted to make some sort of fanfiction of this AU 🤭🤭 if there are any suggestions, I'd happily write them of our very beloved evil oni boy.

I've been sat here for an hour, just giggling to myself

[peachteal]

so uhm this is kinda my first post!

I decided I was just going to post random scraps I like to write on my notes app. I actually get these ideas by spinning different roulettes; with character tropes, sceneries, and traits! also randomly picking the fandom and character I'm writing these about.

all of my work is going to be character x reader. I don't really specify the readers gender in this one even if i did base it around a female one, so be comfortable with whatever.

this came out VERY random, but I hope maybe you can enjoy it.

(English isn't my first language)

__________________________

629 words:)

co-worker!nanami x outsider!reader

The countless documents getting all dusty and old on the shelves of the office are a constant reminder of what this job feels like; old and crusty.

I know it's not different from what I like to do; sitting in front of a screen all day, except this is more of a.. monotonely tiring and dull activity, which I'd like to separate from the fun late nights I wrap myself into when I'm streaming in my dear online platforms. You see, I find absolutely no pleasure in the minimum wage that document filling brings to my life. I have no idea why I keep myself in this enclosed -and weirdly odorless space- when my streaming hobby has a better financial reward anyway.

but oh, I just lied. I know why I do.

It's all thanks to the captivating and amusingly elegant co-worker I have. Nanami Kento, aren't you such a delight for these lazy eyes?

Poised and tactful, but even more courteous than any man I've met before. We've spoken a few times, not that I'm great at chatting - oh god, not at all! - but I think he's caught my seek of belonging in this office.

it's not insane that I, as a human being, want to socialize outside of my twitch chat and discord groups to make some desperately needed friends, or even partners for life; it's just a little hard, yet respectful men like him try and surprisingly give me some space.

Keyboards clicking, coffee mugs cluttered on desks, and small chatter fill the office—a far cry from the sleek, professional vibe they sold me on when I took the job. It’s just another stereotypical sad workplace.

__________________________

-"..Suguru asks if you're done already." a low but strangely gentle tone behind me caught my attention. I look up, and meet some hazel nutty eyes.. they don't look much different than my own; sloppy and baggy, but I manage to get lost in them for a second more than I should.

I snap out of it and shake my head slightly as I let out a sigh.. closing my eyes for a second. I remember the papers due.. today. Right. I shouldn't forget Suguru gets along very very well with formality. Another thing to keep in mind, as if the higher-ups don't have weird rules to follow already. I truly am done with this job.

-"right, Suguru and his.. goddamn papers." I'm trying not to look like a mess right now, and more job-focussed in front of such a man. But the childish cat background on my computer doesn't help. "please tell him that uhm-.. Satoru messed with the computers again or something.." I’m pretty sure Suguru will believe anything bad about Satoru—he loves thinking that idiot is an actual idiot. But a gut feeling tells me it's more than that-.. anyways.

I dont really say anything else, holding my cofee mug and taking a sip.

Nanami does help me around, I bring him some coffee myself eventually - while I try to ignore nasty looks other co-workers give. as immature and juvenile as that feels for a workspace.

a second of a slightly long silence holds between us. -"I expected this," Nanami's usual stern face doesn't budge. Yeah, he's kind, but professional - I'm constantly messing up my work, and this leaves me more than embarrassed. "I already told Suguru something happened. Don't.. stress yourself out." I think his tone hesitated a little there; that last part wasn't like usual.

I choked on the coffee. Watching him turn away- stealing just the smallest glance in an expression that leaves me with nothing to analyze -and step to his desk. Just four words that just felt weirdly intimate in a way I can't seem to explain.

[conkers-thecosy]

Five Fic Feedback!

Tagged by: No one! Seen this floating about a few fandoms, and decided to bring it over to bagginshield!

Rules: Pick five fics you've written, then tell us about how you feel about it vs how readers have received it!

1 - Bad Blood

My Thoughts: This one is way bigger than I meant it to be! It was going to be about 5k words and the only scene I had in my head was Bilbo biting the elven guard, haha! Readers: People really seem to love this one! I feel like feral Bilbo is always a crowd-pleaser, and this fic got much more attention than I ever expected it to! - 2 - Soldier My Thoughts: I'm really proud of this one. It was my first bagginshield fic, and it was after a loooong break from writing. Even though it's a bit weak in places, I have such a soft spot for it. Readers: I ended up re-posting this one after some harassment kicked my confidence down the toilet, but since then the reception has been very positive! - 3 - Poet My Thoughts: I'm sorry to say it, but this is probably my least favourite fic I've written. If it wasn't so popular I'd have removed it and altered the end of Soldier so it was just one fic! Readers: This fic seems to be very popular, and was the first time someone made art of my work - and more than once! I remember posting the first chapter and not expecting very much, only to come onto tumblr and see random posts where folks were super excited to see it was updating! It was such a lovely feeling! - 4 - My Ego Dies My Thoughts: I genuinely love this one, I think it's probably my personal favourite. I really enjoy playing about with the idea of "forgiveness" between Bilbo and Thorin, and this fic really scratched a particular itch for me! Readers: Probably my least popular fic - statistically, at least! I've found most folk weren't into it for one reason or another, but the people who love it, really, really love it! -

5 - Stealing Moments, Moments Away My Thoughts: I wish I'd taken more time with this one in some ways, but in others it really is the reshirement fic I wanted to tell. Again, I got to tinker with that "forgiveness" trope, and have a good look at what survival might realistically have meant for Thorin. Readers: This one is a quick read, and it's soft and fluffy, so I think readers enjoy it for that reason, though I believe some found it a bit boring. It was being updated almost daily, and the folks who were invested came back to comment and read practically every time I updated, which was just amazing to me! - 6 - Backs To The Wall (Sorry, I've written six, so I wanted to do all of them!) My Thoughts: I wrote this because it was something I wanted to read, and couldn't find. It's been amazingly fun, and I told myself when I started (knowing it was going to be fairly long - even if I didn't realise quite how long at the time, haha) that I wasn't going to take it too seriously, and I was really only writing this for myself, as the most self-indulgent kind of nonsense, ever! Readers: I can't begin to tell you how utterly blown away by the response to this I've been. Like?? It's just crazy to me how much folks are enjoying this, how excited and supportive everyone has been! I've been so grateful for everyone reading, and genuinely shocked down to my bones, haha! 💛 - No pressure tags for: @fantasyinallforms @lucigoo @lordoftherazzles @domesticgoddesswriter @thatfancygirlinwhite @lauramkaye @sass-y-squatch @mintedwitcher (and honestly anyone else who sees this and wants to do it, *waves a wand* you are Tagged!)

[isshua]

Breaking the Wall (Find Comfort in Those Who Might Hear You)

Sagau Xiao x Reader

I haven’t been feeling great lately, so I decided to write this little story to cheer myself up. I had this idea about what might happen if Teyvat’s environment were to reflect your emotions whenever you logged on, and by extension whatever character you are currently playing as. I also wanted to write my own play on a character “breaking the fourth wall” in order to communicate with their player. This story follows the more classic sagau trope of how the characters are semi-aware of the fact that they’re living in a videogame but view it as a sort of boundary between their world and ours.

Xiao is a huge comfort character to me and I mostly wrote this for myself as a way to cheer myself up. I thought it came out okay though, so I decided to share it here. Hope you guys enjoy! :)

To break the Wall meant instant termination.

  Teyvat made this clear. It would not allow its people to make contact with the divine world. Forging a connection that extended beyond the mechanics of life was simply not meant to be. The Vessels could communicate with the Creator within the bounds of Teyvat’s laws; that was what being a Vessel was all about in the first place. For non-Vessels, then such hopes for communication with the God Above All Gods was impossible. That was how Teyvat was designed. That was how things were meant to be.

  Xiao, typically, did not mind following the rules. After all, he was an immortal being with thousands of years of experience in his belt. He knew attempting to break the Wall would result in his death. Long ago, before he had been chosen to be one of the Creator’s envoys, he hadn’t even cared about the Wall. Why would he want to break it? Meddling in such matters was not of his concern. His duty was to protect Liyue, nothing more.

  But then he got to know you. And his feelings for you only grew. When you chose to, you guided him through his daily tasks with kind words and praising whispers. When your golden light possessed him, his karmic debt would dissipate and he would feel a thousand years younger than he really was. You took him to places he never dreamed of seeing: the peaks of Dragonspine, the streets of Inazuma City, the dunes of the Sumeru desert. With you, there was a sense of adventure. With you, there was excitement. With you, he felt whole.

  You did not speak often, not that he was bothered by it. He was an introverted soul, one who appreciated the silence between the two of you whenever you would travel together. Occasionally you would comment on the environment or the enemy he was fighting. Sometimes you grew frustrated after completing domains-not with him, he understood, but rather with the horribly mediocre artifacts the two of you would receive. He liked it when you laughed. The noise was so clear and invigorating, he found himself hoping to hear it every time you appeared. He liked when you would softly hum some unknown tune from the faraway land you inhabited. He loved it when you acknowledged him, how he was a stronger and better version of himself only because of your dedication to him despite knowing the many sins he has committed. If you could have known the impact you had on him, you might find it amusing to see how easy it had been to steal the aloof Yaksha’s heart.

  There were so many things about you that he loved. But there was one single thing he hated.

  He hated it when you cried.

  The day began as a typical one. You had not possessed him for the entire week, not that this was something to be worried by. You typically did disappear due to some strange thing called ‘college,’ but you always came back. Xiao largely spent his day patrolling Dihua Marsh, slaying monsters, and saving the occasional mortal from dying at the hands of hilichurl tribes. He did not interact with anyone beyond stiff acknowledgment; the only person he did talk to on a regular basis was the Traveler, and the last he heard of them, they were somewhere in Sumeru, ever exploring, always curious.

  Your presence was not anticipated, but it was welcomed. When your golden light descended upon him during late afternoon and he felt your presence tugging at his mind, he felt contentedly unsurprised. Your voice echoed his name: “Xiao. Let me in.”

  He did not resist and allowed your influence to settle within his body. “You called?” he murmured, halfheartedly hoping for a reply. You never did answer him whenever he greeted you, but that was due to the Wall. Conversations were strictly one-way.

  He waited for you to take control. Whether it meant being teleported somewhere or just taking off into Dihua Marsh, he knew the two of you would be off eventually. He waited. And waited. A minute went by. He did not move.

  “Your Grace?” he called out, puzzled. He could feel you, he knew you were there. So why weren’t you interacting? Surely you didn’t appear just to stare at him, right? What is going on?

  Something wet fell onto his hand.

  He looked up at the sky and immediately noticed the ugly gray clouds gathering overhead. A filter of mundane color cast out the light of the sun. Droplets of rain started pattering down onto his face, his hair, and his clothes, leaving him drenched. But he did not stop staring. Because within his head, he could hear soft sobbing.

  The Creator was weeping. And so Teyvat weeped along with them.

  The first thing he felt was anger. Who hurt you? he wanted to ask. Who would dare make you cry? But as he listened to your cries and watched the rain come down, he realized that anger would do nothing to help. He could not solve your problems. After all, he was in Teyvat, and you were somewhere else entirely. His second reaction was to comfort you, but he could think of nothing to say. The issue of you two being separated was still in effect. The Wall would not allow him to offer you any consoling words. He had no choice but to let you suffer alone.

  But by the Archons, you were making his heart ache. Xiao was one to usually think that tears were for the weak, but he could not make himself see you in a pathetic light. Would it not be pitiful of him to deem his Creator as a lamentable coward? He didn’t even know why you were crying. You could be in danger!

  That’s when he decided. I have to make contact with them.

  It was a nearly impossible feat. But he knew he could do it.

  Break the Wall. Establish communication.

  He had never heard of anyone doing it before. Not even Rex Lapis, the strongest god he knew, dared mess with such an unpredictable, mysterious force of power. The Wall was not hard to find, but it took willpower to face it. Xiao didn’t know if he would perish the moment he did, or if it would take time for him to dissolve away. There were too many possibilities of failure. He could think of no way this sudden plan of his would lead to success.

  But your crying was like a million arrows piercing into his heart, and the pain of his karmic debt was rising as he continued to soak in your negative emotions. He was hurting right along with you-but if he could only talk to you, things could be made right.

  Xiao held out his hand, and his jade spear materialized. He braced himself and raised the polearm high into the air. Focusing on the ground beneath him, he concentrated and felt his surroundings. The energy of Teyvat came to him quickly, most likely due to being exposed to your power for so long…and then he pinpointed it. The moment of weakness. He brought his spear down with every bit of strength he had and tore into the fabric of reality. A gaping hole of darkness ripped right under his feet. He did not scream when he fell in, nor did he grunt in pain when he slammed into a glass-like surface after his short freefall. Everything was dark, except for the millions of green bolts of  electricity racing all around him at the speed of light. Your golden glow encompassed him and fended off the overwhelming power this Abyss-like area radiated.

  He looked at his hands. His weapon was nowhere to be seen, and the tips of his fingers were…glitching. In fact, his entire body seemed to be crackling-falling apart and knitting itself back together with technic shrieks. It was a sure sign that he was in a place not meant for him. He had done it; he had broken through the Wall. Now he was beyond it, but where, he did not know. Surely this can’t be the Creator’s domain, he thought. This place was far too dark, and there was no hint of your aura anywhere except for within him. But it had to be the realm in which he would form a connection with you.

  He could still hear your crying, but now, it was less ‘in his head’ and much more clear. Xiao walked forward, his footsteps echoing against the glass floor. “Your Grace!” he called. “Can you hear me? It’s me, Adeptus Xiao!”

  No answer. He was utterly alone in this place…but the sound of your crying was getting undeniably louder. Xiao pinpointed on the direction in which it was coming from and took off. With each step he took, the glow of your light grew brighter. He took that as a sign of goodwill.

  And then, he saw you. You were sitting at a strange looking desk with your head buried in your arms. Xiao slowed to a walk and crept tentatively up to you. He had never seen your physical form before, and only had a minor grasp of your appearance from the various statues of you scattered across Liyue and the abstract depictions of your form in history books. To be honest, he had been expecting you to be a bit more…god-like. The person in front of him did not look like an all-powerful deity. They were ordinarily mortal, and possessed no external qualities that differentiated them from the average human being.

  But then you lifted your head to scrub your tears away, and his breath was lost within his chest. Within your eyes he could see countless stars, and flecks of gold were scattered through your hair. All around you, there was an explosion of light, and Xiao was exposed to the warming feeling of your aura at an even greater intensity than usual. This was you. You might have looked human, but you were undeniably, most definitely his god.

  “Your Grace,” he uttered, kneeling at your side. “It’s alright, I’m here now. I heard your cries. You called out my name. Please, let me speak to you.”

  You didn’t respond. The connection still wasn’t there. Xiao tried again. “Your Grace, can you hear me?”

  You let your head flop back into your arms and continued to sob. Xiao leaned back on the balls of his feet and couldn’t help but growl in frustration. That damned Wall was still keeping you and him apart! What more did he have to do in order to simply talk to you?

  His eyes flitted to the strange device set up on your desk. It had the appearance of a box, but at its front there was a screen, and on it was displayed a shrunken image of Dihua Marsh. This must be a divine mechanism. It’s a way for you to forge contact with Teyvat. What…what would happen if he touched it? Would that finally allow him to communicate with you? He had his doubts, but it was worth a shot.

  Without hesitation, he pressed his palm over the screen. There was a jolt of energy that started at his fingertips, then rocketed through his entire body. He shuddered at the electrocuting sensation and refused to allow himself to flinch away, even when every instinct in his body was telling him to do so. The Wall was trying to repel him; like hell he was going to allow it to do that.

  With his other hand, he reached out to you. At first, he was nervous to touch you, for why should a creature tainted by karmic debt and innocent blood be allowed to embrace the God Above All Gods? He shakily slipped his hand over your cheek and raised your head. Your cries stuttered, and your eyes widened open in confusion. You were not looking at him, but rather at your divine mechanism’s screen.

  “Don’t cry,” Xiao whispered. He swiped your tears away with his thumb. “There is no need to cry. I’m here. I’m with you.”

  He desperately hoped you could hear him. He hoped even more that you would reply.

  You had no idea what the hell was going on.

  Today was a horrible day. A day filled with anxiety and embarrassment and ruined expectations that things might go right, only for them to go wrong. When you returned to your room and let yourself collapse into your desk chair, you thought playing your favorite game might cheer you up. After all, losing yourself in a fantasy world was practically the best way to forget what the real world was like.

  You logged into Genshin Impact and found yourself where you left off last time you played: in Dihua Marsh. Your current character was Xiao, and he stared blankly out at you while you waited for the game to catch up with your internet and for everything to load in. But you did not feel any happier. In fact, you felt worse. The events of the day were just too much to simply forget, and pretty soon, your hand slipped off of your mouse as you slumped forward onto your desk and started to cry. It did not feel good to let your emotions out. The sobs shaking your body were ugly, and the tears staining your cheeks made you feel gross. But you couldn’t stop, and frankly, you didn’t expect to for quite some time. These were tears you had been holding in all week; it was only a matter of time before the dam broke and the water came rushing out.

  You did not expect to feel a sudden intuition to lift your head. You did not expect for your body to automatically follow that intuition, either. It was like someone was lifting it for you, and when your blurry eyes raised to focus on your computer’s screen, you were shocked to see that the in-game chat box had a message in it. It didn’t make any sense. You weren’t in a co-op world, and you were pretty sure you were far too preoccupied with crying your eyes out to accept someone’s co-op request. Could it be a glitch? Far too curious for your own good, you clicked on the chat box and opened it.

  Two words had been sent to you by an unknown entity with no icon. “Don’t cry.”

  “What…?” you mumbled.

  More messages appeared. “There is no need to cry.”

  “I’m here.”

  “I’m with you.”

  This had to be some sort of joke. Someone hacked your account. This had to be a real person.

  It was then that you noticed Xiao was gone.

  “I know what it feels like to break. I understand what you are feeling.”

  “Just know that I am here for you. I will always be here for you. All you have to do is call out my name.”

  “Xiao?” you breathed.

  You felt the phantom sensation of someone wiping your tears. The scent of Qingxin flowers wafted fainty around you.

  “Yes,” the chat-box answered. “I am here.”

[airyravenmaid]

SAGAU: My Style

Back at it again with sharing my personal ideas with the Self-Aware Genshin AU. I don't see myself writing a full-on fanfic about it because I do NOT trust myself with characterizing everybody properly, and some of the ideas I have in mind wouldn't make for a good universal experience for all, if that makes sense. So, instead, I'll just stick to pitching like I'm at a silly ol' business meeting and providing a simple layout. Now, keep in mind, this is going to focus more on my rendition of an Imposter AU specifically, which means I'm also going to do a little nitpicking of some common tropes in it that I find could be done better or even differently. It won't be me saying that anybody who writes them in the traditional sense is bad or doing a bad job, just what I'd do differently. So, without further ado, check out my mish-mushed ideas below the cut:

It all starts with the Creator Themsleves, aka, us. Or, rather, us before we became us. Not making sense? That's fine, but lemme delve into that a little better. Game lore-wise for this AU, there actually was a fully existing, fully breathing Creator that's been around since even before the Archons (but not by too much; Zhongli's still no spring chicken in spite of this). Yes, they did create Teyvat and all that's good in it like the flora, the fauna, and the creatures, and they had a close bond with said Archons not just as people serving, advising, and worshipping their God/ruler, but also in a legitimate friendship (so, no, they're not 100% subservient or gutless ass-kissers-- it's more of an equal dynamic). Maybe one Archon of your choice (within reason) being close enough to the point of being (secret) lovers, if you'd like. Such explains the Archons' deep attachment to the Creator, and their eagerness to see them again after tragedy-- like, say, the Cataclysm that razed Khaenri'ah-- renders them comatose and not to awaken again until present day. Until then, the Creator's body lies safely in sleep like Princess Aurora within their main temple/palace, occasionally visited by their old companions (minus Ei, who's in her hidey-hole until the Inazuma AQ's, but that goes without saying).

But, just before they do wake up, here comes a little (presumably Celestia-sent) POS known as the Imposter, who worms their way into the temple where the Creator lies, steals their garbs and replaces them with normal, less divine attire before sending their body far away apparently never to be seen again and lying on that resting spot acting as the Creator on the verge of waking up. And since no one knows what really happened, it looks like the promised day has come without issues, and the Imposter is welcomed by nearly all back to a throne that never actually belonged to them. As for the actual Creator... they're in good hands, because Teyvat would never mistake another for the All-Parent that breathed life into it and acts to protect their body hidden amidst nature in whatever region they landed in (your choice) until they really do wake up.

And when our in-game body does wake up, our real-life consciousness is transferred into it and overwrites our old, godly memories with our normal ones. Since I can't stand isekais that require us dying an early death IRL (like, at all, actually), we're either magically transported to Teyvat the old-fashioned magic way, or part of our consciousness goes into our in-universe body and leaves our physical forms in reality alone, thereby creating two versions of us going around two separate worlds. For better wording, that is, but that's the gist of it. Either way, we're the real deal Creator, but one without our old memories (apart from short visions we get of our old divine life that come up every now and again) as far as everyone else in Teyvat is concerned. They're not totally wrong, anyway. I was thinking this could be justified to everyone by our "past self" saying pre-slumber that they will reawaken without the knowledge of this world (aka, the Genshin one), but it will still very much be them/us.

By the way, when we stumble into the main town or city of whatever region we wound up in, the locals don't just immediately attack us for looking like the Imposter. While sometimes, I do enjoy kicking back and enjoying pure angst, I otherwise found that aspect of Villain/Imposter!SAGAU to be, comment dit-on... absurd, especially with nobody in Mondstadt (outside of that one nun not buying it and simply scolding him) giving two honks about Venti despite him looking like (being) Barbatos, and nobody in Liyue even noticing the resemblance between Zhongli and Rex Lapis/Morax. And given how much those nations revere their god, the argument of us being a higher deity cannot be made. So, instead, at absolute worst, people are just really unnerved by the uncanny resemblance we have to the Creator, but otherwise don't get alarmed... until the Imposter catches wind of us and changes that. The reason people start attacking us at all is because the Imposter weaves a forewarning of the Creator's antithesis equal to them in power known as the "Destroyer" will descend on Teyvat, attempt to steal the throne using the Creator's face, and do worse to the world than the Abyss Order ever could try to if not stopped. And, this may sound like something they just made up to get us killed, but in a way... it's true, only issue is that the acolytes + citizens have the wrong idea of who's who, of course. Plus, the actual, all-powerful Creator, if pushed too far by say... an incredibly lengthy and traumatic manhunt after being mistaken for the Destroyer, is capable of tearing the world limb from limb, because those who create can as easily destroy, but those who destroy can never create.

Speaking of "all-powerful"... why are we always completely powerless in these SAGAU works apart from crying and/or getting really angry (which ARE realistic and valid reactions to the shit we're going through, but it's not mutually exclusive to getting cool abilities)? Because we're not actually from Teyvat? Even Aether and Lumine have the power to wield the elements despite coming from somewhere else, and for us to not get that same honor is frankly dull as dishwater. That's a lot of missed potential to dip into the fantasy aspect of a fantasy game like Genshin Impact. It's here I'd like to take some inspiration from a show I've enjoyed for years known as none other than "Avatar: The Last Airbender". Not to mention, the term "avatar" generally refers to a "divine incarnation in human form", hello??? Ahem! In other words, instead of being completely incapable of defending ourselves, we-- being the almighty Creator-- are able to wield all seven elements at once, but we have to gradually learn how to effectively use and master them. We do start with one element (any of your choice), then work our way up in order of the loading screen. IE: say your element is Cryo, you'd have to go Geo -> Pyro -> Hydro -> Anemo -> Electro -> Dendro. Such was the same in our past life, but we had the Archons to teach us and help us master those abilities through time.

Which means now, we need other people to help us do it again in our new "incarnation", and that's in the form of 5-star Vision holders since they fit the bill of "master" a bit better, being the rarer, stronger characters and junk. Of course, this is likely with discretion, because some might not be wise to learn from (such as Klee, funny as that'd be). I'm also discounting learning from the Archons because not only has our time with them from the previous life passed, but I don't find it fair to learn from a powerful god of that element, even if we're a god ourselves. It's more balanced learning from someone beneath that level (so, yes, an adeptus would still qualify). Also, important note here: not every single playable character is going to try and kill us for the Creator-Destroyer thing. NPCs are one thing because, let's be real, they're sheep, but it isn't realistic or in-character for everybody playable to want us dead. While a fair chunk would probably be on board for the sake of not letting the world blow to smithereens (and not because, you know, Same Face Syndrome, because that's completely insane), some might not outright believe the alleged prophecy for one reason or another, such as not being fond/trusting enough of the apparent "Creator" to just listen to them right off the bat, or getting to already find out who the real Creator is and knowing we're not the enemy. Whatever the reason is, we're going to have allies, including ones that join us in our quest to defeat the Imposter and take back the throne to restore balance to Teyvat. This can also include those who initially sided with the Imposter, but for one reason or another such as seeing our gold blood, they have a change of heart and tag along for the ride. For us to just go about Teyvat on the lam with nobody having our back is just... depressing, and not even in the fun way, either. I understand this faction of SAGAU tends to be purely angst-based, but come on, it doesn't have to all be a total bummer all the time. There's no rule that says we can't go through the angsty, heartwrenching stuff with traveling companions to call our own there for us through it all.

Now, of course, whoever those traveling companions are is really up to you because not all of us are gonna wanna tag up with and learn from the same bitches as the next guy. So, it's anybody's game with anybody's reasoning and circumstances (such as which region we wake up in, who our first companion(s) would be there, then which region we move onto, and even what element we have to learn next). Also, fitting the max. number of characters you can have on one team, it'd just be four actively traveling alongside us through Teyvat with other allies remaining where they are, whether they helped us master an element or not. But, no matter anybody's personal tastes and choices, I really wish there was more of a thrilling "fantastical group adventure" kind of element to this genre of SAGAU, because the potential is there, just-- seldom reached, from what I've seen, personally. I'd be more than happy adding onto this with anything I might have missed, but that's basically the gist of my view of this AU.

[nerdraging4point0]

Scorpion and the Scales // Chapter Sixteen // MIW/Bad Omens PolyAU

Tropes and Tags: why choose romance, MF, MFM, MFMM, MM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed musicians, polyverse, friends to lovers.

Content warning: 18+ only minors DNI. PinV, PinA, oral (f!recieveing, m!recieving), threesomes, light BDSM, voyeurism, exhibitionism, partner sharing, jealousy, angst.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Taglist(click to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @synthetic-wasp-570 @beaker1636 @thesazzb @itsjustemily @vinyardmauro @circle-with-me @tearfallpixie @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @th0ughts-pr4yers @meliferafaerie @letmeadoreyoux @latenightmusiclover @transparentwitchnightmare @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @emofangirl02 @rumoured-whispers @somebodyels3 @jakeygvf21 @lma1986 @cncohshit

Chris’s POV 

The energy in Las Vegas has been nothing short of exceptional for the band. The dry desert heat beating down on the stage didn't even bother us- we were too caught up in the thrill of the performance to notice. My makeup is smeared and sweat is pooling under my hat but I don’t care. I am living for this moment on stage we are thriving. Vin has never been more excited to play a festival in his life, Justin and Ryan have been goofing it up since we arrived.

And there is Rick. Rick appears happier than ever before, and it's not hard to see why - Eve has been watching the performance from stage left, and the two have been stealing flirtatious glances at each other all afternoon. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him turn to the side of the stage, strumming his guitar with a playful smile on his face, the pure bliss of being in love radiating from every inch of his being.

As the crowd erupts in thunderous applause, and our music dies out, I can't help but notice the shift in Eve's demeanor. Just moments ago, her eyes were alight with a joyous glow, a telltale sign of the blossoming love she's been trying to conceal. But now, as the opening bars of "The Death of Peace of Mind" begin to reverberate through the speakers, her expression falls, the light in her eyes dimming. It's clear this unexpected turn of events has us all unsettled, myself included. I pause to take a sip of water, using the brief respite to gather my thoughts. We had anticipated this performance to be a triumphant homecoming, a chance to reconnect with our loyal fans, but the absence of one key individual has cast a palpable shadow over the celebration. 

Noah has been conspicuously absent, despite knowing full well that we would be playing at this very festival. I've tried reaching out, sending text after text, even placing a few desperate calls, all to no avail. The deafening silence on his end is as puzzling as it is heartbreaking. As I glance back towards Eve, I can see the pain etched across her features, a mirror of my own internal turmoil.

As I stood on the stage, the familiar energy of my own band's set pulsing through the crowd, a part of me couldn't help but feel a sense of longing. I missed what we all had, to be honest I missed him. Though the roar of the audience and the thrill of performing my own songs filled me with a rush, my eyes would inevitably drift towards the nearby Bad Omens stage, where Noah’s towering form commands the attention of the masses. His guttural, primal howls seemed to reverberate across the festival grounds, a siren's call that tugged at my heart. I couldn't be certain, but for the briefest of moments, I swore I saw his gaze flicker in my direction

In the midst of the pulsing energy and raw power of the music, I call out to the crowd with a  passionate outcry, "I need you to get loud on this one, Vegas." As the riffs of the guitar and the steady rhythm of the drums slow to a low, steady beat, it creates the perfect backdrop for my voice to carry over the roar of the audience. "I need all these motherfuckers performing here to hear you," I declare, my voice dripping with intensity.

Pausing for a moment, I take a deep breath and brace myself, mentally preparing to pour every ounce of my being into the next lines. Leaning in close to the microphone, I begin to sing with an impassioned, deliberate delivery, my voice belting out the verse with a raw, gritty power. This is no mere performance - it's a calculated move, a strategic ploy to ensure that he hears me, to make certain that the message reaches its intended target. "You know the dead can't hear you, the holy well is dry," I growl, placing my foot up on the podium as I lean over the crowd, my eyes scanning the sea of faces before me. "So when you face the truth..."

"OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES!" The crowd responds with a deafening chorus, their voices joining mine in a powerful, primal scream. I can see some of the heads from the back of the Bad Omens crowd turn to face us, drawn in by the sheer force of our collective outcry. There, in the distance, I spot him - breathing heavily through the hole in his ski mask, his eyes boring into my side of the stage. That’s right baby, do I have your attention now?

***

I could care less about formality or privacy or what you might consider personal information. Vinny has the hook ups though, he’d messaged the band's manager and got the details on which hotel they were put up in, it was easy from there to ask reception which room. She’d been trained to keep it hush hush from the fans, but when I expressed I was in one of the other bands and showed her my festival pass she let me up to his room. 

I approached the door, my fist clenched with determination as I brought it down forcefully against the solid wooden surface, the sound of my knocks reverberating through the hallway. I was certain that the occupant of the neighboring room had heard the commotion, their curiosity likely piqued by the sudden disturbance. Moments later, the door to the adjacent room swung open, and out stepped Noah, accompanied by his bandmate. I had expected to find him in a state of anger, his brow furrowed and his expression laced with frustration, but instead, his face remained stoic and unreadable. 

"Chris?" Noah said, his voice low and cautious. "What are you doing knocking on my door?" he asked, clearly caught off guard by the unexpected presence in his hotel room.

"Expecting you to be inside - duh." Noah paused, taking a deep breath as he turned to his bandmate, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before shifting his attention back to me. Rather than lashing out, Noah simply brushed past me, his shoulder grazing my chest as he moved to unlock his hotel room door.

As I trailed behind him through the dimly lit hotel room, I was captivated by his scent, intoxicating and familiar, wafting through the air and enveloping me. I breathed him in deeply, savoring every molecule, desperate to commit this precious aroma to memory, knowing that this fleeting moment may be the last time I would have the chance to experience it. The mingling of his cologne, the faint trace of soap from his recent shower, and the underlying musk that was uniquely him - it was a heady, sensual combination that I wanted to sear into my mind, to have and hold even when he was no longer within my reach. 

Noah leaned back against the door, his foot propped up on the wall as he casually tucked his hands into the pockets of his worn, comfortable hoodie. With a weary sigh, he let his head fall back, the back of his skull gently thudding against the solid surface behind him. His expression was a mix of exasperation and resignation, bracing himself for the confrontation to come.

"What do you want, Chris?" he asked, his tone laced with an edge of sarcasm.

 "You haven't been returning my calls or texts - I want to know where the hell you've been and what the fuck is going on with you." My voice was laced with a mix of frustration and genuine concern, making it clear this wasn't just about unanswered messages. “Where the fuck do you get off, Sebastian?”

Noah's lips twitched with the hint of a sardonic smile, his eyes glinting with a mischievous spark as he delivered his flippant retort. "Recently? The bathroom." 

The quip was clearly meant to rile me up, to throw me off balance with his trademark brand of sassy, irreverent humor. But despite the provocation, I refused to rise to the bait, hardening my expression as I looked at Noah with an unyielding stare, silently demanding a serious, honest answer. 

He drops his foot, letting out an exasperated sigh, and I can tell he is trying to walk away from the conversation. The fuck he is. I'm not about to let him disengage that easily. I take one long stride across the room, hands splayed across the wall on either side of his smug, infuriating face, stepping into his personal space until our eyes are immediately locked on one another. 

"You don't get it, do you?" I can feel the burn of anger rising in my throat, a tell-tale sign that the tears are coming, though I'll readily admit that I'm an angry crier. “You hurt us, leaving us like you did. How could you, Noah?”

My eyes dropped to his lips as his tongue darted out, wetting his lips in a way that sent a shiver down my spine. I could almost feel the warmth of his mouth on mine again, the memory still lingering.

"She has Rick now," he said flatly, the words landing like a punch to the gut. I pushed off the wall, pacing the room as my hands flew into my hair in frustration.

 "Fuck, you are such a pain," I spat, the anger and desire warring within me. But even as the words left my mouth, I knew the truth - the messy, complicated truth. "Yes, she wants Rick. But she wants you too. She wants him, she wants me, she wants you," I rambled, spinning to look him directly in the eyes. The admission felt like a weight lifted, but also a new burden to bear. "Fuck, man, I want you," I confessed, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. 

I see his expression go blank; he remained rooted in place, unmoving, as if frozen in time. "You what?" The trembling words escaped his lips in a low, barely audible whisper, the vulnerability in his voice obvious.

I take slow, measured steps towards him, approaching cautiously as one might a skittish deer in the forest, lest any sudden movements cause him to bolt. When I finally reached him, I gingerly cupped his face in my hands, cradling his cheeks tenderly as I pressed our foreheads together, our eyes locked in an intense, searching gaze. "What? Did I stutter, baby?" I murmured, my voice soft but firm. 

As our faces draw closer, I can feel the nervous tension building, the uncertainty of whether he'll pull away or if I'll finally get the chance I've been longing for. Our lips barely graze one another, a featherlight touch that sends tingles down my spine. In that moment, I'm sure he'll recoil, reject my advances and end this delicate dance before it's even begun. But to my surprise and delight, he doesn't shy away. Instead, our lips meet in a soft, tender kiss - a first for us without the buffer of Eve's presence. It's a new experience, uncharted territory, and I find myself hesitating, unsure of how to proceed. But then, as he begins to kiss me back, all my inhibitions melt away. Our lips start to move with more purpose, pressing and devouring, tasting and exploring. I can't hold back any longer, and I push my mouth against his, desperate to part his lips with mine. Finally, I succeed, and I seize the opportunity to delve my tongue into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth, praying he won't clamp down and end this blissful moment.

His strong hands gripped my waist, guiding our movements as he pushed me forward, spinning us both around until I was the one pinned against the wall. A guttural growl escaped my lips as I pushed back against him, the force of the movement causing him to become the one trapped, my hips grinding against his in a sensual rhythm. The last time I kissed a guy like this our piercings kept getting tangled with one another's and it was awkward and took away from the moment, now, all I wanted was to get lost in it. With a pop of our lips, I let our mouths fall apart, my thumbs tracing the line of his chin as we both panted, desperate for air.

The silence was deafening, a tense anticipation building as I waited with bated breath. "Tell me to leave," I pleaded, my own voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me you don't miss us, all of us, and I'll go right now." But he remained silent, his hot, minty breath falling over my lips and igniting a renewed desire within. My hands tangled in his soft, unruly hair, gaining a firm grip on the strands as I tilted his head back, exposing the intricate tattoos that adorned his neck. Unable to resist, I placed a delicate kiss on the ink, before closing my lips around the tender flesh, sucking and nipping at the forbidden fruit.

My fingers trail down his firm, muscular torso, the soft fabric of his hoodie bunching up as I explore the contours of his body. My touch is light, teasing, as I search his eyes for any sign of hesitation or reluctance. But his gaze remains steady, unwavering, a challenge in his dark, hooded eyes. This man is going to crumble before me, I can feel it. I want him to bend, to yield to my advances. With a decisive tug, I pull at the elastic waistband of his shorts, dragging them down his strong thighs. I watch, transfixed, as his hardened length springs free, thick and throbbing. Yet still, he makes no move to stop me, no attempt to resist. The power I hold over him at this moment is intoxicating.

The anticipation builds as I drink in the sight of him, exposed and vulnerable, waiting with bated breath for me to make my next move. I locked eyes with him, seeing the unmistakable glint of arrogance and expectation. He thought he had the upper hand, that I would simply submit to his demands without a fight. But I wasn't about to play by his rules - not this time. I felt a surge of defiance as I rolled my lower jaw, building up a thick wad of saliva that I then quickly spat into the palm of my hand. In one swift motion, I reached down and grasped the head of his throbbing cock, wrapping my fingers tightly around it and beginning to stroke up and down with a relentless, punishing rhythm. I could see the surprise and then pleasure flickering across his face as I took control, my grip firm and my movements unforgiving. This was my game now, and I was going to make him work for every last ounce of satisfaction.

I ran my hand up and down his shaft with quick, determined strokes, watching intently as his head fell back and his body went slack, surrendering to the sensations. The ragged, shuddering breaths escaping his lips and the pulsing throb of his arousal in my palm only fueled my own growing hunger. I was relentless, keeping him perpetually on the edge of release, denying him that final sweet relief. He was mine in this moment, completely at my mercy, and I reveled in the power I held over him. Just when I sensed he was nearing his limit, I abruptly withdrew my hand, instead cradling his face tenderly between my palms. His eyes flew open, lips trembling as he struggled to find the words, desperate and needy. "What's the matter, puppy?" I purred, my tone dripping with feigned innocence. "You want something?"

Noah’s POV

This was the last thing I ever expected, yet I stubbornly held myself steady, refusing to let the shock and disbelief show. I had been so certain, so sure of my feelings for Eve - a love that had never wavered or faded, no matter how much time passed. Stupidly, I had let myself get worked up, consumed by the irrational fear that she would eventually leave me. So, in a knee-jerk reaction, I did what I always do best - I left before I could be left behind. I knew it would shatter Eve's heart and at the very least deeply upset my friend Chris, with whom I had repeatedly lamented my own self-destructive behaviors. But never, not once in all of those one-sided conversations, had I even considered the possibility that Chris harbored feelings of his own for me. That revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. 

Now, here I stood wanting to desperately feel his hand, his mouth, anything around my already throbbing cock for a release that only he could have given me. But I didn’t deserve it, I didn’t deserve them, they’d shown me nothing but compassion and understanding -a relationship free of judgment. How can someone so melancholy and shattered as myself possibly be so lucky. 

Chris's strong hand grips my cheeks, his fingers pressing firmly into the soft flesh as he pulls my lips forward into a pronounced pout. Our faces are mere inches apart, our noses brushing against each other's flushed skin as his hot, ragged breaths caress my parted lips. I can feel the heat radiating off his body, the intensity of his gaze burning into me as he demands in a low, guttural tone, "Tell me what you fucking want, Noah." 

I couldn't escape the memories of the bond we once shared - the laughter, the adventures, the unbreakable connection that had felt so natural and right. Now, with them gone, a gaping void had been left in my life that I was struggling to fill. Why had I let them slip away? Why was I continuing to torture myself by dwelling on what we had lost? The regret and sorrow were overwhelming, making it hard to breathe as I was consumed by the intensity of my emotions. I needed them back.

With a shaky breath, I finally let the words tumble out, “You.” My eyes pleaded with Chris to understand just how much I needed him - needed them both. This was my chance, my last hope to mend what had been broken. Please, I silently begged, don't turn me away. I don't think I could bear it.

Chris's grip on the back of my neck was firm and unyielding as he pulled me in, our lips crashing together in a rough, desperate kiss. The intensity of it left me breathless, my heart pounding with anticipation. Just as quickly as it started, he pulled away, his warm breath ghosting across my cheek as he uttered those tantalizing words - "You're gonna need to earn it, puppy." The shiver that ran down my spine was electric, fueling the growing heat within me.

I watched hungrily as Chris stepped back, his movements lithe and graceful as he kicked off his shoes and began tugging his shirt over his head. I mirrored his actions, peeling off my own shorts and hoodie, tossing them aside without a care. 

Finally, Chris shed the last of his clothing, stepping forward to close the distance between us. His lips found mine again, the kiss searing and all-consuming. I could taste the faint sweetness on his tongue, like a refreshing berry-flavored sparkling water - intoxicating and addictive.

“You’ve seen the way she sucks my dick, yeah?” his words breathless and rough. I can’t speak, swallowing the lump in my throat I can only nod my head. “Good. Let’s put that pretty mouth to use.” 

The air is electric with tension as he pulls me forward, his movements deliberate and commanding. The anticipation builds as he walks backward towards the bed, his eyes locked on mine, daring me to look away. "Why do you get your dick sucked first?" I ask, unable to hide the hint of frustration in my voice. I push my lips onto his, savoring the sweetness of his tongue in my mouth, a taste I've been craving for far too long. "Seems so unfair, I've been without for so long," I murmur against his lips, the words laced with a plaintive note.

His response is firm and unyielding. "Call it punishment," he says, the back of his knees hitting the edge of the bed. "You left us broken, puppy. So, seems only fair, I break you a little." There's an undercurrent of controlled fury in his tone, a righteous anger that sends a shiver down my spine. He brings my face to his as he sits on the bed, dragging me with him, and my legs buckle, sending me to the hotel carpet on my knees. Kneeling before him, head held high, we continue our passionate kiss, his hands tangling in my hair, tugging deliciously at my roots. "You can't just want me, Noah," he breathes, his voice low and intense. "I'm gonna make sure, before we're through, that you need me."

He leans back on his hands as my eyes glance over him, it’s been so long. I was young and reckless, fueled by liquid courage that made my movements sloppy and unrefined. Now, as I move closer, carefully positioning myself between his parted thighs, I feel that same spark reignite. Tentatively, I let my mouth fall open, my tongue just barely peeking past my lips as I begin to lavish his sensitive tip with delicate, kitten-like licks. The familiar taste and texture send shivers down my spine.

As I stare at him I feel a sense of eager anticipation coursing through me. Starting at the very base, I slowly trace my tongue up the length in one long, languid stroke, my taste buds tingling as I savor the familiar flavor. The texture is smooth and firm, yet yielding slightly to the pressure of my questing tongue. I can practically hear Eve's voice in my mind, recounting the techniques she's perfected over countless experiences - the gentle suction, the swirling motions, the focused attention to the sensitive tip. Channeling her expertise, I mimic her actions, eliciting a soft, contented sigh from Chris as he leans back further into the sheets. Encouraged by his response, I take a deep, steadying breath before closing my lips around the tip, enveloping it in the warm, wet cavern of my mouth. I hollow my cheeks, creating gentle suction, and swirl my tongue around the head, savoring the unique flavor and texture.

His strong, calloused hand grips the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair as he applies gentle pressure, guiding me down onto his throbbing length. "That's it, that's a good boy," he praises in a low, rumbling tone, his words dripping with a mixture of encouragement and dark, primal desire. I open my mouth wider, relaxing my throat to take him in deeper, feeling the rigid heat of his shaft sliding past my lips. He pulls me off briefly, only to push my head back down, demonstrating the rhythm he wants me to follow - a slow, undulating motion that has me hollowing my cheeks to suck him in as far as I can manage. The taste of him is musky and masculine, and the slight sting of stubble against my chin only heightens the sensations. "Let's see if we can make you lose that pretty voice of yours," he growls, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he begins to thrust his hips, fucking my mouth with a steady, relentless pace.

The tension builds in me, an overwhelming sensation coursing through my body as I strain to maintain control. My thighs quiver, muscles clenching tightly in a desperate effort to hold back the inevitable. I'm utterly pathetic, reduced to a quivering mess, and I haven't even been touched. Yet the mere thought of him,, the sound of his gruff voice, the feel of his thick cock sliding into my mouth is enough to push me dangerously close to the edge. I whimper and whine helplessly around his shaft as he thrusts, the animalistic growl of his voice sending shivers down my spine. "Don't you dare fucking cum till I say, puppy," he snarls, the sheer dominance in his tone making me tremble.

He grips my hair tightly, yanking me off his throbbing shaft with a forceful tug. A glistening strand of saliva stretches between his swollen, glistening tip and my open, panting mouth, the salty taste lingering on my tongue. His dominant gaze bores into me as he sneers, "You're going to watch, little prince. You're gonna watch me cum." Wrapping his calloused hand around my own, he guides me to his thick, pulsing erection, pressing my fingers against his heated flesh.

 "This is how I want you to touch me," he growls, his hips bucking as I obediently pump my hand up and down in the rhythm he sets, my long digits gliding over his slick, throbbing shaft. With a shudder, he finally releases.

 The thick, warm liquid spilled over his skin and onto my waiting hand, the viscous fluid glistening as it dripped down my fingers. I stilled my movements, careful not to let any of it spread or be wasted. My lips parted, the tip of my tongue peeking out as I ached to taste him on my tongue, to savor that salty, musky essence. But he gripped the back of my head firmly, holding me in place as I tried to lean forward. 

"No, no, pretty boy," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Let's be sure you understand what you did wrong." I whimpered, my eyes fixed on his release as it slowly trickled down my long digits. I didn't want to lose a single precious drop, but if he kept me waiting much longer, I might just have to lap it up off the dirty hotel carpet - after all, they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, don't they? 

"Say you're sorry," he demanded. "Say you won't leave us again." I apologized profusely, my eyes pleading with him, silently promising that I would never, could never, leave them. They owned me, body and soul, both of them, and I was helpless to resist. 

His grip on my hair loosens as he guides my head back down, and I do little to fight, forcing my fingers into my mouth to clean everything, even the spaces in between. I can still taste him, salty and musky, coating my tongue and the inside of my cheeks. Then, my mouth closes around his cock, savoring the familiar sensation as I bob my head, taking him deeper with each movement. I revel in the weight of him on my tongue, the slight twitching as I swirl around the sensitive head. "That's it, puppy," he praises, voice low and rough with desire. "I still need to fuck you, keep going, just like that." His hand tangles in my hair again, holding me in place as he begins to thrust, pushing himself deeper into the wet heat of my mouth. I moan around him, the vibrations adding to his pleasure. This is where I belong - on my knees, serving him. 

I can feel the release trickling to the surface again, my lower belly tightening as my thighs shake. 

"You want to come, don't you little prince?" Chris murmurs, voice thick with desire. I hum my fervent agreement around him, unwilling to relinquish my grip even for a moment. His fingers tenderly brush through my disheveled hair as our eyes meet, my vision blurred by the tears of exertion pooling in the corners of my eyes. I know I must be a sight to behold - flushed cheeks, wild hair, and bloodshot, watery gaze - I can only think of one other person who looks this fucked out with a dick in her mouth. 

As he pulled me off of him, our lips colliding in a passionate embrace, his tongue diving deeply into my mouth, I felt a surge of desire coursing through me. Breathless, we stood together, my shaky legs struggling to support me in the wake of his fervent caresses. Gazing into my eyes with a hunger that made my heart race, he posed the question I'd been anticipating, his voice low and sultry. 

"Where's your lube, baby?" In that moment, my mind went momentarily blank, the haze of lust temporarily clouding my thoughts. Had I remembered to pack it? I couldn't quite recall. Stammering slightly, I fought to regain my composure, desperately trying to retrace my steps and remember where I had stashed the essential item. Finally, the fog lifted, and I recalled placing it in the open suitcase just a few feet away, the black zip-up travel bag sitting atop my hastily packed clothes. Relieved, I nodded towards the case, and with a primal growl, Chris released me, allowing me to scramble over and hastily unzip the bag, retrieving the lube and hurrying back to him.

“Lay down, baby.” I ease myself back onto the plush hotel mattress, my long limbs spilling over the edges as I settle into the soft sheets. Without a moment's hesitation, Chris reaches for the small bottle of lubricant, squeezing a generous glob into the palm of his hand. My anticipation builds as I watch him, my throbbing erection straining and aching to be touched. In one swift motion, Chris grasps my sensitive flesh, his slick fingers wrapping firmly around my shaft. He begins pumping up and down in a steady, purposeful rhythm, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body. I can't help but jerk and twitch under his skilled hand, reveling in the sweet, blissful sensations that have been building for what feels like an eternity.

My breath comes in short, ragged gasps as Chris continues his agonizing ministrations, his hand moving painfully slow up and down my trembling form. "Look at you," he purrs darkly in my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. "Such a mess, and I haven't even fucked you yet." The words send a jolt of electric desire straight to the core of my being, heightening the desperate, needy sensations coursing through me. I can't help the small, whimpering sounds escaping my lips as the pressure builds.

The intense sensations overwhelm me as I lay trembling beneath him, my body betraying the inner turmoil I feel. Involuntary whimpers and whines escape my lips as I squirm helplessly, my hands balling into tight fists at my sides.

"I'm not doing this for my health, baby," he growls, the dark promise in his tone sending a shiver down my spine. "You better come before I change my mind." With a few firm strokes, the tension building within me finally snaps, and I'm spilling over his hand in a intense, shuddering climax. But he refuses to relent, continuing to stroke me through the overwhelming aftershocks until I'm crying out his name, my oversensitive flesh almost too much to bear. I can’t catch my breath until he finally lets go, getting up from his position onto his knees. 

He towers over me, his imposing frame casting a shadow as he pushes me over forcefully onto my knees. The mattress cushions my impact as my face is shoved back down, my cheek pressing into the soft fabric. The air is thick with anticipation as I hear the telltale squirt of the lube bottle cap opening. Slick, wet sounds fill the room as he coats himself generously, the viscous liquid glistening. With agonizing slowness, he spreads the lube over my tight, puckered entrance, teasing and caressing the sensitive skin. My lips tremble involuntarily and I can feel saliva pooling in my mouth in response to his touch.

I desperately try to relax, willing myself to allow him in. It's an odd, unfamiliar sensation - a strange fullness that borders on discomfort. But as he takes his time, gradually sinking deeper with each careful thrust, the discomfort gives way to a building sense of pleasure. 

A low, guttural groan escapes his lips as he begins to move, pulling back slowly before pushing back in with determined strokes. "Fuck, you're so tight," he growls, the rough timbre of his voice sending shivers down my spine. "All mine." The possessive words ignite a fire within me, driving me wild with need. I can't help but moan wantonly, my body singing with sensation as he claims me over and over.

"You're mine. Fucking say it," he growls, his hips snapping forward with each insistent thrust. I can feel the coiling heat building within, the tightening in my balls signaling my impending release. "I'm yours, baby, yours forever," I gasp out, the words tumbling from my lips like a waterfall breaking free of winter's icy grip.

“I’m yours, I’m Eve’s,” I'm theirs, utterly and completely, and I couldn't bear the thought of living without their touch, their possession. “Fuck, Rick can have me so long as you don’t ever let me go.” The confession falls from my lips as I surrender myself to their carnal desires, my body arching to meet each punishing stroke. I'm so close, teetering on the edge, needing them to push me over into the abyss of ecstasy.

A shiver runs down my spine as his strong, calloused hand wraps around my throat from behind, his fingers pressing firmly against my skin. With a swift, forceful motion, he yanks my head back, exposing the vulnerable column of my neck. I can feel his warm breath tickling the sensitive flesh just behind my ear, his lips grazing the tender spot as he speaks in a low, menacing tone. "Eve can have you, Rick can watch you, but I'm the only man that gets to do this. Do you hear me, puppy?" The words are laced with a possessive, domineering edge that leaves no room for argument. His grip tightens ever-so-slightly, a subtle warning that I am his and his alone. I'm acutely aware of my own quickened pulse, the blood rushing through my veins as adrenaline courses through my body.

I feel his hot, ragged breath on my neck as he presses his forehead against my shoulder, our bodies intertwined and moving together in a frenzied rhythm. "I hear you," I gasp, my words tumbling out in a scattered mess as the sensations overwhelm me. He pushes deeper inside, filling me completely, and a desperate moan escapes my lips. The pressure and pleasure are building, coiling tighter with each thrust. "I'm gonna come," he groans, his voice strained and guttural. I push back against him, craving to feel every inch of his throbbing length, to be consumed by the raw, primal need coursing through us both.

The heat is sweltering, the air thick with the scent of our desire, and I arch my back, silently begging for him to go deeper, harder, until we both unravel in a shattering climax that leaves us trembling and spent, clinging to one another in the aftermath. With a shudder and a growl Chris grips my ass firmly, driving in one last time before  I feel him spill into me, hot and thick, it’s a strange sensation but such a welcome one. He recovers from the aftershock and withdraws quickly, it’s a bit rough and I wince. But I forget all about it when he flips me over on my back, pinning my thighs down as he bends, taking my cock as his mouth. 

As he moves rhythmically, bobbing his head up and down with a steady tempo, the sensations build within me. The warmth and wetness envelop me, sending tingles of pleasure radiating through my body. I can't help but let out a series of desperate, whimpering cries, my voice trembling with each utterance of "f-f-fuck." My hands tremble as they grip the back of his head, tangling in his dark, grown-out hair. The vibrations of his approving groans reverberate against me, stoking the fire within. The tension coils tighter and tighter until I can no longer contain it, throwing my head back with a deep, satisfied sigh.

“Come on, puppy, come for me.” His words coming out between ragged pants as he takes my cock deep into his mouth, the warm, wet suction enveloping me completely. “You've been so good. Let me have it.” His mouth works skillfully, tongue swirling and lips pulling, coaxing me ever closer to the edge. I whimper and cry out as my hips twitch and buck as the pleasure builds, Chris’s strong hands gripping tightly to hold me in place. Finally, with just two, three more strokes of that talented mouth, I can't hold back. My whole body convulses, vision whiting out as I spill myself down his eager throat. Chris swallows it all hungrily, not letting a single drop escape, his grip on my thighs trembling thighs white-knuckled and unyielding.

We are sweaty and spent, as the adrenaline rush dissipated, the reality of what had just transpired between us settled in, leaving us both momentarily at a loss for words.

Chris finally broke the silence, his voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness as he spoke. "I don't know about you," he said, "but I miss our girl, and I think she deserves an apology too." With that, he rose from the bed, gathering his discarded clothing and dressing himself with a casual, unhurried grace. Crossing the room, he paused to press a soft, tender kiss to my lips, his eyes searching mine as he silently posed the question

“What do you say?”

[all-souls-matinee]

BONUS Halloween in August/September Review: Alien: Romulus (2024)

[Eschewing my usual format of 1-2 sentence summary + 1-2 paragraphs of thoughts, this one will be a combination to include several spoilers. It also assumes some prior knowledge of the Alien franchise]

Going into Romulus I was leery of how video game-y the trailer felt and the choice of a director best known for 'subverted expectations' home invasion horror, but those were the two aspects of it I ended up really liking. The premise is that a group of 20-somethings are stuck in an intergalactic mining town where the amount of missions they must fly hours they must work to gain an emigration permit is raised by a few years each time they reach their goal. Our protagonist, Rain, is told by a friend that he and his crew have discovered the wreck of the Nostromo floating above them and plan to break in and steal its cryochambers; the last thing they need for their own ship to make an escape into deep space. The crew welcomes her, but admit that what they really need is her adoptive brother Andy, an ill-liked synthetic who can access the Nostromo's controls. So far so good, I love this premise! It's a little YA dystopia, we've got a ragtag group of mining orphans that look like TikTok influencers and don't have personalities, but that's okay- acceptable and even expected for an Alien movie. I'm also not here to clutch pearls over the sanctity of the original; everything that follows plot-wise is good stuff! Reminiscent of video games, yes, but that means lots of clever little item pickups and interactions, and the tension-building is excellent. An early example: while collecting cryofuel half the team is trapped in a room full of slowly thawing, unseen facehuggers. The other half must retrieve a master-key computer chip from Ash's body (left over from the original mission) to pass to Andy, who is then stuck in reboot mode and unable to help until a critical moment, and this all filmed brilliantly with great effects. There are several standout scenes like it; the movie feels connected to the rest of franchise while contributing new ideas- playing with gravity and temperature and electricity as both weapons and stumbling blocks. It looks good, I like individual plot beats (including the contentious climax), I love the multiple dead rat puppets that are here for some reason, but this is also the only movie I've considered walking out of.

No one barring David Jonsson (Andy) can act, and chemistry is nonexistent. We're told that the crew is composed of friends, siblings, cousins, and love interests, but never actually see it, and no matter how good the plot and pacing are on paper that really makes things drag in places. I like the aliens and love the androids in these movies, but at the end of the day I've always ended up rooting for the humans because of the empathy on display. Many of the Aliens are objectively worse than Romulus from a filmmaking perspective, but this is the first one where I wanted the bad guys to win.

The main villain of this movie isn't the aliens, it's Ash. I was spoiled on CGI Deepfaked* Ian Holm going in, so when they boarded the Nostromo and saw his body I rolled my eyes and braced myself for a scene where he comes to life like a haunted house prop and then they kill him or whatever, but no, he sticks around and drives the entire plot. It's awful; I don't even hate this one from a writing perspective it just feels insanely disrespectful (and is distractingly bad to look at.)

3. The Green Mile is one of my most hated movies of all time. I revisited it early this year when the podcast Just King Things discussed the book within the context of Stephen King's larger body of work, which stresses the character of John Coffey not as an aberration but a trope King keeps coming back to: a black or disabled person who is a holy innocent. Physical prowess and/or magic powers are coupled with the disposition of a character like Of Mice and Men's Lennie or Flowers for Algernon's Charlie to create someone who looks scary but is actually worthy of love because, hey guys, he's nice and sympathetic in a way that appeals to an imagined white American audience. Months after listening to that episode I accidentally walked into an even broader literary context, discovering the character of Jean in E.E. Cummings's The Enormous Room (a nearly 1:1 blueprint for Coffey), and Pip in Moby-Dick, a child traumatized to a point of babbling incoherence that allows him to act as a holy conduit, a prophet, and a comfort to his captain. These characters aren't meant to be racist but rather to teach about antiblack racism, which makes for interesting reading, but a terrible Alien movie.

Andy is the only black character in this film. Andy is referred to as Rain's brother at most twice, then revealed to be her servant (literally programmed by her father to do two things- protect her and make dad jokes.) Andy is cognitively and physically disabled from being rebooted so many times over the years, and faces extra abuse and discrimination because of this. I cannot begin to describe how it felt to have spent the year bumping into saintly black characters in media who are dehumanized in order to teach some vague platitude about humanity, only to run into it again here. It gets worse and more muddled when Andy is rebooted using Ash's chip, which makes him "normal," which makes him evil. Ash uses him to further the interests of Weyland rather than his sister/master Rain and it makes him start saying scary inhuman stuff like 'the solution to the trolley problem is to kill as few people as possible.' (Again, go bad guys.)

I know the movie doesn't see itself as racist. Andy is by far the most interesting character and has a lot of complexity to him; Rain's whole arc is learning that no one should have seen him as expendable or treated him as an inferior, and tells him his new prime directive is to live for himself (as well as her. Can't leave that on the table.) Alverez clearly had the best of intentions, but the movie can't get away from the fact that Andy being cognitively impaired and using his strength and powers to the benefit of some random white girl, choosing family over work but also the individual over the collective, was actually what made him human.

Okay rant over. I liked the part where they threw a flair and the facehuggers scurried after it like a pack of dogs because they hunt by body heat and movement instead of by smell and vision. Yay :-)

*Holm was deepfaked 'respectfully' with the consent of his family using a combination of animatronic and a new actor... and the company literally responsible for deepfakes (https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-features/alien-romulus-ian-holm-rook-ash-ai-1235982350.) I cannot stress enough how bad this is to look at for almost 2 hours like i needed to talk about Andy but jesus christ.