#i know we've seen her at the pool and whatever

[skateisawesome]

inexplicably i dont think tori can swim

[vividxpages]

"mine"

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

a/n: yeah..........I have nothing to say to my defense. This is me coping after that photoshoot drop. we've all seen it, you know what's up.

🌹

Your boyfriend had the prettiest moans you ever heard in your life. And god, how fun it was to make him sing.

Right now, you were seated very comfortably, your legs spread and wound tightly around Jacaery's waist as you sat on top of him. The lacy fabric of your bra pressed against his naked chest as you arched against him, gasping as the friction between your bodies hit just right.

The bathrobe he had emerged in from the steamy bathroom pooled around him and his dark hair was soft and silky between your fingers. Your heated breaths mingled ever so often and while he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, you could not decide where you wanted to look first.

It could've been a soft and adoring moment between you and him if you weren't currently chasing another high by getting off on his thigh, moaning shamelessly and unbothered as you allowed him to touch you - touch you everywhere but where he actually wanted to.

"Baby, please-" Jace whined against your throat, his hands trembling as they ran over your sides. His glassy eyes were fixed on your chest for a moment and the way your thighs quivered with the effort you needed to rub your drenched pussy against him, your wetness staining the perfect white briefs he wore. They had been expensive, but now you ruined them with relish, your previous orgasms and his leaking dick staning the fabric.

So far, you had made yourself come twice on Jace's muscular thigh while he had not finished once. You had not granted him the luxury so far and you were way too obsessed with seeing him like this for now, flushed and sweaty all over just for you as he stared at you with enchantment and unshed tears in his eyes.

"Please." He tried again, puppy-like, really, his breath hitching as you tugged at the hair in his nape, not stopping your efforts to come a third, powerful time. "Please, love, let me touch you, let me touch myself, let me do anything-"

You smiled sweetly at him, briefly kissing his pouty mouth before leaning back in his lap, out of reach. At the gentle shake of your head, Jace released a frustrated groan, close to a cute little sob.

"Uh-uh, just a little more, baby boy." You whispered, kissing him again with raw hunger this time, a siren feeding on the love of her captive. As you bit down on his bottom lip, a hiss ecaped his kiss-bruised lips and his hips bucked up into you on their own. "I know you can last a little longer, Jace. You've been teasing me earlier, let me have a little fun here, hm?"

"'havent teased you..." Jace murmured defensively and you cocked an eyebrow at him, grinning knowingly. "H-how?"

"You think I didn't notice?" You whispered and dragged your nails over his smooth chest, delighted at the way his robe kept slipping down his shoulders, exposing his bony shoulders for kisses and bites you loved to give him. "You've walked past me all innocently earlier, just in your briefs about...four times, was it? Were you trying to get your girlfriend's attention? You just could've asked, baby."

Jace whimpered, throwing his head back as your fingers drifted underneath the waistband of his underwear. You could feel the heat of his throbbing dick, neglected and overstimulated at once by your mission to tease the hell out of him.

Just a little more and you'd have him right where you wanted, eager to lay the world and himself at your feet. You knew he would let you do whatever you wanted in this particular state, no matter what you desired, he'd give it to you.

Maybe you'd let him eat you out while you picked out some of the expensive jewelry he got you for the night? Maybe you'd make him change into a new pair of briefs and let him finally jerk himself off while you watched, feasting on the fresh fruit the hotel had brought you? Maybe you'd cut the bullshit and ride him until he didn't remember his own family name anymore?

The ideas were blooming in your hazy mind as you smiled down on the boy beneath you. You two still had a few hours until the big black-tie dinner party with his whole family and you had a lot of patience, knowing it wouldn't be long until the love of your life would start begging.

[corroded-hellfire]

AYW req if you'd like: while Reader is pregnant with Eliza, she starts getting more prominent stretch marks on her stomach & boobs & stops letting Eddie see her naked. Eddie rectifies that situation hehehehe

This was honestly so fun to write! Love featuring the kiddos but these two also need some alone time hehe 💜 @munson-blurbs and I hope you like what we've come up with

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (she's already pregnant but you should still wrap it up), semi-public sex, pregnant!reader, oral, f!receiving, breeding kink, body image issues, older!eddie, dad!eddie

Words: 3.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The late June day is sweltering as you step out of the Harrington’s house and into their backyard. The placid blue water of the pool looks refreshing and calm—or it will, until the kids get in. Luke quickly jumps in alongside Theo and Danny, the three rowdy boys immediately splashing each other and then whining about being splashed. Ryan and Natalie are decidedly less hyperactive, taking care to watch baby Amelia where she kicks herself around in her purple mermaid floaties. 

Nancy makes herself comfortable on a lounge chair a few feet away from the one you’re making your way towards. Normally you can keep up with everyone else, still being in your second trimester, but this heat has you moving slower and feeling crankier than usual. 

You can’t help but notice the way Nancy looks in her bathing suit compared to how you feel in yours. Nancy’s had four children and looks stunning as always as she lays back in her black one piece. You feel shoved into your navy suit, like every little stretch mark that mars your skin is on full display for the world to see. 

Trying to shrug it off and enjoy the invitation from the Harrington’s to have a pool day, you make yourself comfortable on your lounge chair and adjust the pale pink coverup you have on. Eddie stands near the foot of your lounge chair, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks out at the children in the water. Your eyes feel glued to his lithe frame as he strips his shirt off. The pale skin that’s left on display practically has your mouth watering. It doesn’t matter that you’ve seen him naked countless times, your eyes still roam over his torso and the beautiful works of art he has inked on his skin. 

As Eddie rids himself of the Black Sabbath shirt, he notices the way you’re gawking at him. A smirk quirks up his handsome features and he playfully tosses his shirt at your face. Your hormones this second trimester have been no joke. The moment Eddie walks through the door after work you’re jumping on him. Your husband swore you were going to wear him out before this baby was born. Not the last week or so though, now that Eddie thinks about it. Maybe those particular horny hormones have been fading to make room for whatever new batch comes in for the third trimester. 

The sound of little feet kicking too hard beneath the water of the pool approaches you and Eddie, and you look up to see Luke swimming over towards the edge. He grins up at the pair of you, shaking the water from his curls like a dog just out of the bath. Bright blue eyes land on you and they’re doing a pretty damn good impersonation of the puppy dog look that Eddie gives you when he wants something. You know what Luke is going to ask before he even opens his mouth. 

“Wanna plaaaay with us? Please?”

Giving him a frown as you squint beneath the blazing sunlight, you shake your head. “I’m super tired, bud. Growing a baby is hard work,” you tease. You’re not technically lying—when you’re not jumping Eddie’s bones or concocting weird new food combinations, you’re sleeping— but no one needs to know that’s not the reason you don’t want to get in the pool. 

“I can play with you,” Eddie offers his son. He takes a step towards the pool and is ready to dive in when Luke wrinkles his nose up in disgust.

“Nah, I’m good,” the little Munson boy says. 

As you bring your hands up to your mouth to cover up your laughter at your son’s remark, Steve claps a hand on Eddie’s bare back.

“Gonna need some ice for that burn?” Steve whoops. 

“Shut up, Harrington,” your husband grumbles in response. Eddie takes a seat near your legs at the edge of the lounge chair. His hand finds your leg and he rubs up and down your calf, always needing to be touching you in some way. Physical comfort is something you both love to give and receive from one another, which calls for a lot of soft rubbing or absent-mindedly drawing patterns on one another’s skin. Now, Eddie’s touch is having a calming effect on you, though he didn’t even realize there was something you’re uneasy about. Your body language must change as he relaxes you though, because he tilts his head to the side as he gazes at your face.

“You feeling alright, baby?” he asks.

“Yeah, just tired.” 

If Eddie had any follow up for that, he doesn’t get the chance because Amelia kicks her way over towards Luke in the pool and hangs onto his shoulder when she’s close enough. Her hand almost slips from his wet skin, but Luke manages to catch the little girl before she can float too far away. 

“Uncla’ Eddie!” Amelia calls once she’s clinging to Luke again. 

“What’s up, Little Red?” he asks his favorite ginger niece. 

“Come in, come in!” Amelia cheers. 

“At least somebody wants me in the water,” Eddie says with a pointed look at Luke. “Anything for you, my darling Mia.”

A few minutes after Eddie’s joined the kids in the pool—who also convince Steve to come in—Nancy comes over to you, noticing how everyone else is in just their bathing suits and you’re seemingly putting on more articles of clothing. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answer too quickly, nervously tucking your lips into your mouth. 

“Bullshit,” she counters, crossing her arms over her chest. “I have four kids; I can smell a lie a mile away.”

“Seriously, Nance, I’m fine.” You muster up a small smile, but she sees right through it, and you know it. 

You have your nose buried in a book, unaware that Nancy is reaching over the side of the pool to give Eddie’s ear a tug. 

“Jesus H. Christ!” he yelps, rubbing the affected lobe. “What was that for?”

“Go talk to your wife,” Nancy says through gritted teeth, obviously irritated at having to spell it out for him. “Marco Polo can wait.”

As Eddie attempts to get out of the pool, Amelia grabs his leg and tugs. Your husband lets out a soft chuckle and picks the small girl up.

“I’ll be back, Mia.” He presses a few kisses to the top of her wet, red hair and sets her back in the water. 

Over the top of your book, you see Eddie sauntering towards you. You slip the book back into your bag and tug your cover up tighter across your body. 

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” he asks with a smirk. “Besides that bun in the oven.”

“Just relaxing,” you say. 

“If you’re just relaxing, why did Lady Harrington threaten my life to come over here? And why aren’t you in the pool?”

The only answer you have you don’t want to tell him. And you’re not going to make up some lie to get him off your back. Eddie deserves better than that and you would never treat him with anything less than the utmost respect. That doesn’t mean you want to tell him the truth, though. You swallow embarrassment as you mutter, “I gotta pee.”

Eddie doesn’t let you get far without him though, he’s hot on your tail as you walk through the back door into the house.

“Can you please tell me what the problem is so I can at least try to fix it?” he asks once the screen door is securely closed behind him.

Silence is his only reply as you walk up the stairs to the second floor. You’re obviously upset, and your husband can’t relax until he knows what’s bothering you.

“Sweetheart, what’s the problem?” he asks again.

You stop short and spin on your heel to face him. As Eddie tries to read your face, he’s not sure if there’s more sadness or anger there. Either way, he wants to make it go away. He’d do anything. 

“This is the problem!” you say, gesturing towards your boobs and stomach. 

Eddie looks at you for a moment, brain trying to comprehend whatever it is you’re talking about. He shakes his head and gives you his response. “If I keep looking at them, this is gonna be a problem, too.” He motions to his crotch.

“I’m serious!” you yell in frustration. 

“I am, too!” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows. “Don’t forget how I got you pregnant in the first place.”

“Oh, so I can blame you for this mess?”

Eddie wrinkles his brows. “What mess?” He knows you would never refer to your baby that way, so he’s even more confused as to what you could mean.

“The stretch marks, Eds!” you lament, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “They look like an angry toddler drew lines all over my body.”

Understanding clicks inside Eddie’s brain. Why you’re so covered up. Why you didn’t want to go into the pool. But how could you ever think anything about your body wasn’t absolutely beautiful to him?

“That’s why you haven’t been all over me the past few days,” Eddie says as the realization hits him. “I thought maybe it was those horny hormones, or whatever they’re called, fading. But you…you think there’s something wrong with having stretch marks? Baby, no. It’s just your body making more room for our little sweet pea to grow. They’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

Believing him is easier said than done. You want to believe him, but battling the insecurities in your head is not something you’ve conquered yet. Now you just stand there and fiddle with the hem of your coverup, not knowing what else to say or do.

Eddie sighs and gently takes your hand into his. 

“Come with me. I wanna show you something.” 

Eddie leads you into the upstairs bathroom and shuts the door. He positions you directly in front of the mirror above the sink and stands behind you. Slowly, he moves your cover up out of the way to reveal your growing bump, stretch marks dotting the sides. 

“How on earth could you think anything about this is a problem?” he asks, his hands barely grazing your skin as he admires your tummy. “Look at you. Gorgeous bump. Cute little stretch marks from where our baby is making herself comfortable inside of you. It’s incredible, princess. Your body is literally growing a person and you’re mad at it because there are a few lines appearing on your skin?” He gives an incredulous laugh as he turns you around to face him. “Jesus, I mean, see what just talking about it does to me.” One large hand dwarfs your smaller one to press your palm to the hardening bulge in his swim trunks. 

You roll your eyes. “Please. The wind blows the wrong way and you get a boner,” you rebut. 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Eddie says with a small groan. “Don’t say blows when I’m hard like this.”

“Can you be serious for two seconds?” Your temper is already short from the heat and the pregnancy, and his blasé attitude only makes it worse. 

Eddie cradles your cheeks in his hands. “I love you. And I love your body. I loved it before you were pregnant, and I’ll love it after, but watching you carrying our baby…fuckin’ does it for me.” He bites his lower lip as he drinks in the sight of you. “Goddamn, you look fuckin’ gorgeous like this.”

You think back to when the two of you first got together, when he’d made what you’d assumed was an offhand remark about knocking you up. Maybe it wasn’t as out of left field as you’d thought. 

As if he can read your mind, Eddie’s lips press soft kisses down your neck as he murmurs, “always dreamed about getting you pregnant. Would’ve done it a lot sooner if I’d known you’d be this sexy.” He runs a finger along a stretch mark that curves down your stomach. 

“H-How much sooner?” Curiosity asks the question for you as your back arches slightly from his touch. 

“That night,” he confirms, knowing he doesn’t have to elaborate further on what night he means, “but your stupid birth control pills ruined all my fun,” he adds with a teasing smirk. 

“They were so stupid. Sh-Should’ve stopped taking them the second I saw you.” Your voice is still timid from the emotions coursing through you, but Eddie can tell you’re finally letting him in.

Eddie throws his head back. “Fuck, baby. You got me all worked up.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” you tease, hands sliding up his wet chest and over the sparse hair. “What should we do about that?”

Eddie whines and leans in, nipping at your neck. 

“You know, I wasn’t a big fan of this bathing suit anyway,” you tell him. “The faster you get it on the floor, the faster you can be inside of me.”

Eddie gets your coverup and bathing suit off in record time. It would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so turned on. His swim trunks go next and then Eddie is lifting you up onto the bathroom counter. There’s not much time to admire his fully naked body before he gets down on his knees in front of you. You wind your fingers through the hair on the top of his head and he looks up at you with wide, hungry eyes. That look alone has you practically dripping for him. 

Eddie keeps that eye contact with you as his hands force your legs further apart and he licks a broad stripe up your folds. You’re the one to end the staring contest when the pleasure overwhelms you and your eyes flutter closed, throwing your head back. It knocks against the mirror, but you’re too caught up to notice if it hurt or not. 

On the next swipe of Eddie’s tongue, he keeps going up so his tongue is trailing the swell of your belly as well. He presses hot kisses against your bump as he works his way back down again. He repeats the motion, next time taking time to either kiss or run his tongue along the stretch marks. The physical sensation feels amazing, but paired with the way Eddie is making you feel emotionally with his tender touch is making your heart thump even faster. 

Every little movement of his makes you feel more cared for, more cherished, and sexy. He’s built you up so high that you have to give a little tug on his curls so he pulls his mouth away from your pussy.

“Need you inside. Now.”

“Anything for the woman carrying my baby.”

You pull his mouth to yours and moan against his tongue as you feel his hands roam your body. His touch soothes over the areas of your breasts where you’ve memorized the stretch marks before moving down and caressing the ones on your stomach again. 

Eddie’s hands slide up to your hips and give a quick squeeze. He gently lifts you down from the counter and spins you around to face the mirror. You brace your hands on the counter as Eddie trails soft kisses up the side of your neck.

“Want you to see how fucking hot is when I fuck you like this,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver throughout your body. 

You spread your legs, but Eddie wants them farther apart. He nudges them with his knee while he rubs a hand up and down your spine. He fists his cock a few times, making eye contact with you in the mirror as he does so. The way he’s looking at you has you whimpering and whining in anticipation.

Your noises make Eddie smirk, and he lines himself up with your entrance. As he pushes in, one hand snakes around your body and rests firmly on your baby bump. 

“Fuck,” Eddie groans. “I’ll never get over how fucking perfectly we fit together.” He punctuates his statement by tilting your chin slightly upwards so you have no choice but to see yourself in the mirror. You watch as he disappears inside you, your body obeying his every command. 

When you rock your hips back against his, Eddie slips his other hand around you to rub circles on your clit. His middle finger finds it easily, slipping through your soaked folds and pressing against the sensitive bud. The feeling is too much; you have to bite your lip to keep from screaming out—the last thing you need is the Harringtons hearing your pathetic whines. 

“God, I wanna fill you up so bad, baby,” Eddie hisses, snapping into you furiously as he takes in the view of your body; the view of you watching your body. “Shit, I’d make you pregnant twice over right now if I could.” 

“W-Would you always keep me pregnant if you could?” you manage to ask between gasps and whimpers—both yours and Eddie’s. 

“Fuck,” Eddie growls. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. “I’ll go buy a damn farm right now to raise all the babies I want to put in you.”

His words make you laugh, which has you squeezing around Eddie’s cock. He moans, drawing you impossibly close against his bare chest. 

“They’re babies, not sheep, Eddie.”

“Still need the space to run around,” he muses, making you laugh again.

“I love you so—-oh! So, so much, Eddie.”

 He’s ridiculously hard inside of you, fucking into you like his life depends on it. “Shit, I love you too, princess.” His middle finger makes more frantic circles around your clit, throwing you over the edge. “You’ve got a fuckin’ vice grip today, holy shit,” he breathes, willing himself not to finish too early while still being acutely aware of his surroundings. 

Your fingers dig into the countertop as each thrust brings you closer to your orgasm. “Right—right there,” you pant, fighting back a moan. “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop.” You come, aided by his magic fingers and your raging hormones, with a soft whine of his name. 

“‘M right there, shit, you’re the best little fucktoy,” he grunts. The hint of degradation has you clenching around him again; of course, he immediately takes notice of it. “Y’like that? Y’like being my pregnant little fucktoy? Knocked up with my baby and still beggin’ for more?”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you stutter, smiling at the reaction your response brings. 

Eddie’s pistoning his hips into you, whispering directly in your ear, “So good, so fucking good f’me. Gonna come so deep in this little pussy, mkay? Gonna keep you pregnant, just like you want.” 

With a guttural groan, he spills into you. His breath is hot on your shoulder blade as he stays inside, not wanting to withdraw right away. You’re not complaining either, until—

“Are you two finished in there?” Steve’s irritated voice beckons from the other side of the door. Your already sweaty body heats up even more, realizing you’ve been found out. Something about it is also oddly hot, but it’s not the best time to think about that with Eddie still inside of you and Steve on the other side of the door. 

“Just a sec!” Eddie calls back, giving your earlobe a gentle nibble as he pulls out, scooping up the cum that’s dripping down your bare leg and stuffing it back into your pussy. “Had to clean you up,” he murmurs with a salacious grin. 

The two of you put your swimsuits back on and fix yourselves as best as you can before Eddie opens up the bathroom door. 

Steve just rolls his eyes, barreling past you as he mutters, “Dammit Munson; you already got her pregnant. Relax.”

[matthewswifeee]

Happy New Year!!!

In which reader runs into her ex boyfriend, Matt, at a new years party.

. warnings: smut, party, alcohol, use of (Y/n).

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I take a sip from the cup in my hands, trying my best to take in the scene I am currently placed in. I'm in a giant house back in my home town, Boston Massachusetts, at a house party. Are we a little old to be reckless drinking in the middle of some rich guy from high schools house? Maybe, but it sure was fun to act like a teenager again, not a care in the world... except this time if the cops come we're all of age.

I down the rest of the vodka in my hands before placing my cup on the counter and making my way to the backyard with yet another familiar sight to see. I find myself sat in a chair beside the huge swimming pool with the long blue slide attached from the roof to the pool side. The memories I smile to myself a bit, this is the closest I'm coming to a high school reunion.

The big house is already pretty crowded which causes my anxiety to get a little intense, time for another drink. I down the second and the the third cup of vodka and to my surprise when I set the cup down I see my bestfriend, Alexa but the person behind her makes the room around me go silent for a moment.

"Hello, earth to (Y/n)" Alexa says waving her hand in front of my face. I quickly am snapped out of the slight daze by her motion. "You're staring" she says crossing her arms over her chest. "I just uh- I haven't seen him- I didn't-" I try to choke something out but Alexa cuts me off. "I know I know but... the past needs to stay in the past" she says grabbing my hands and pulling me over to where everyone was dancing. "Now lets have fun" she shouts over the blaring music.

Alexa and I were having a great time, so great I almost forgot that he was in the same room as us until Alexa was pulled away by some guy. Alexa went to go dance with someone leaving me to go fetch myself another glass of vodka. I walk into the kitchen full of bodies and of course there he is Matthew Sturniolo.

I lightly smile at him as I reach in front of him to grab the bottle, dumping whatever was left into my cup. "Whoa maybe you should slow down there" Matt says chuckling a bit. I slam the cup down on the counter playfully rolling my eyes at the boy. "Where's your little entourage" I say referring to Nick and Chris. "There around here somewhere, where's yours" He asks, referring to my triplet brother and sister, taking a sip of his drink. "Dante didn't come and I have no clue where Lexi ran off to" I say looking around the room in front of us.

"Hey (Y/n)" James says turning both Matt and I's attention to the guy now standing beside me. "Hey James" I say looking away. "Oh you and Sturniolo are-" James begins to say and Matt swings his arm around my waist. "Yea we are" Matt says making me quickly turn my head to look up at him. He looks down at me and quickly pulls me into a kiss, making James walk away.

We pull away slightly before he's pulling me back in for another, but this one was more, way more. Our little kiss turns into a full on make out in the middle of the crowded kitchen. Matt's hand inches below my waist as he grabs my ass making the heat rise between my legs. "Bathroom" I whisper breathlessly into his ear and before I know it he's holding me close as we make our way into the bathroom just down the hall.

Once we get inside he pushes my back up against the door and locks the handle, just like we've done so many times in our high school days. "Jump" Matt instructs and I do as he says. He places his hands under my ass for support before he sets me down on the edge of the counter top next to the sink. He reconnects our lips and I can feel the smirk on his face against my lips as I slide the jacket off of his body. Matt pushes up the bottom of my dress causing a breathily moan to escape my lips. Matt pulls away for a moment, pressing his forehead against mine.

He stares into my eyes as if he's asking for permission as one of his hands makes it's way to my inner thigh, making me even more soaked then before. "Please Matt" I moan quietly as his hand reaches just below where I need him the most. He slowly moves his hand up and down before I grab his wrist and place his hand on my soaking wet core. "Straight to the point I see" Matt says with a smirk, he begins to rub circles around my clit causing me to burry my face in his neck.

Matt pushes my legs further apart, taking in the sight that he missed oh so much. "Fuck I've missed you" he groans before lowering himself so that he is now face to face with my clothed pussy. He kisses me through my black lace panties while looking back up at me. He grabs the sides of my underwear, maintaining eye contact with me, and pulls them off, ripping them. My hips buckle from the cold air hitting my warm body.

"I need a taste so bad" Matt says seconds before burring his face between my legs, devouring me like he'd been waiting his whole life for this moment. I'm trying my best to be quiet but between him fucking me with his tongue mixed with his nose brushing against my clit it was so hard. "Forgot how good you taste" Matt says before kissing me again, while I take the opportunity to help take his jeans off.

I watch as his hard cock springs out of his boxers and hits his stomach. He pumps himself a few times, swiping his thumb over his light pink tip before pushing into me and bottoming out, earing a loud gasp from the both of us. He starts off slow as I clench my pussy around his hard cock. It's like my pussy was make for him, him fitting into every crevasse perfectly fucking me just right every single time. "Fuuuck, won't- la-last long- unnhg-ah- if you keep sucking me in like that" Matt warned me, his voice strained from containing his release. He slows down his pace, trying his best to make himself last longer. My cock drunk expression along with the way that my walls are pulling him in was making it s hard not to just cum.

He was biting his lip in an attempt to muffle the sounds he was making but it really wasn't helping. "You feel so good baby" I moan quietly in his ear as I clench my pussy around him and that was it, he couldn't hold back any longer. It crashed over him so suddenly that he couldn't hold back the moan that was threatening to escape his lips. "Ahhh shit-cumin- in you" he gasps out shakily, his hands griped tightly on my hips. "Filling you- w-with- ahhh- my fucking ba-babies" Matt moans as his hips start picking up the pace, with me a moaning mess underneath him.

My orgasm crashed over me quite quickly, my juices spilling out all over Matt's cock and the counter top beneath us. The feeling of my pussy squeezing and pulsating around him in just made him want to fuck you even harder and faster. "Fuck- Maaatt" I cry out when he hit my sweet spot as I subconsciously tried to shut my legs. "You're not getting out of this" he chuckled breathlessly, pulling me off of the counter top and turning me around before filling me back up again from behind, making sure his cum was deep in me.

He pulled out and rested a hand on my lower back, making sure I was okay. He turns me around to face him "Are you alright" Matt asks softly cupping my red cheeks, I nod in response out of breath. I catch my breath and lean over to pick up my panties off the floor as Matt redresses himself. "Matt come on" I say holding up my torn underwear, him laughing and shrugging his shoulders. "It's not funny" I say tossing them into the tiny trash can and readjusting my dress.

The rest of the party Matt and I spent together just like old times and no one seemed to question it, not even when I went back to his parents house with him and his brothers after.

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HAPPY NEW YEAR BITCHES🥳🥳🥳

lmk if we want a part two?

mwah <3 😘

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

THE HUNDRED LINE: LAST DEFENSE ACADEMY - Journal #11: Route 3 - CONSPIRACY ROUTE [MASSIVE SPOILERS]

//Honestly, with 100 different endings split up into several different routes of how the story can go, the Hundred Line could not possibly be a consistently great game.

//Some routes obviously had to be better than others. I mean, we've already kind of seen it with how awesome and emotional the Retsnom Route was in the end compared to the Casual Route which was mostly a confusing mess.

//Still, I held out for hope that most of the worser routes of this game would at least end up being mediocre to decent, which is kind of how I found the Casual Route.

//...Unfortunately, while I should have expected this, my prayers were not answered.

//THIS route is GARBAGE!

//I did NOT enjoy this segment of the story AT ALL, and I worry that there may be other Routes in the game that are worse, but for now at least, this is a contender for the worst possible storyline the game has thrown at me so far.

//But it's easy enough saying that and not explaining it, so I'll get right to that, but once again:

DO NOT READ THE REST OF THIS POST IF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED/SEEN THE HUNDRED LINE: LAST DEFENSE ACADEMY. I WILL BE TALKING ABOUT VERY SPECIFIC PLOT POINTS AND MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE GAME.

THE SETUP:

//One thing that makes this analysis a little easier to cover is that the Conspiracy Route doesn't happen too long after where the Casual Route diverges, so we don't have an awful lot of story to cover.

//As a reminder, the way the Casual Route takes off from the original comes from the choice of allowing Hiruko to destroy Nigou or not, so that the group may access his memory banks.

//Choosing to protect Nigou is what spins off into the Casual Route. But letting Hiruko destroy him keeps you on the beaten path, eventually leading to where we are at now.

//However, despite letting Hiruko go through with it, Eva protects Nigou from further harm, delaying the situation long enough to allow Sirei to show up and explain things.

//...

//Then what...

//was even...

//THE POINT!?

//Takumi quite literally did exactly what Eva does here at the beginning of the casual route. But no, for some reason, HER defiance leads to the misunderstanding being cleared up, while HIS defiance leads to him being held at gunpoint and brain-raped!

//As much as I do love this game, there are some parts of the writing in the second half here that are just complete bullshit. The way that the timeline breaks off rarely ever makes sense.

//Putting my frustration aside for a moment, Sirei does ultimately explain the full situation about Eva's brainwashing, which we kind of already know, but then also gives a hint that this operation as a whole, as well as all the decisions he makes, is run on democracy, not the needs of a few selfish people.

//By this point in time, I've played a bit further, and I call complete bullshit on this point, but whatever. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

//Also, because this is the point in time where Eva was ACTUALLY supposed to join, I unlocked a new VR mission with her and Moko now on the team. I've already played it a few times now, and this one is actually kind of fucking tough, even with Last Yell strats and whatnot.

//But in lighter news...

//WOOO FANSERVICE WOOOOO!

//So yeah, what happens after all THAT shit is Gaku decides now's a really good time to set up pool party/swim meet at the Leisure Lounge, which is very clearly a scheme to get all the girls in skimpy swimsuits, but everyone decides to go through with it anyway because now more than ever, we need team bonding.

//Real talk? I LOVE the designs of everyone's swimsuits in this game.

//By this point, I'd already seen Hiruko's and Eva's. I'd seen Hiruko's in the CG from Route 0, as you know, but I ended up catching both during hangout events that happened in the Leisure Lounge. But seeing the rest of them, they're all so cool.

//The only one I don't like is Moko's, but obviously the gag with hers is that her swimsuit looks effectively the exact same as her regular outfit; just that it's modified a little bit.

//But generally, you can tell there was so much more thought put into the designs of everyone's outfits than there was in Danganronpa S. DRS obviously had some great designed, but some of them were also just fairly standard trunks and bikini's.

//Some of them also didn't really fit the specific characters, with I think Tenko being a pretty notable example, but here, that doesn't feel like much of a problem. Everyone's fits kinda suit their personalities perfectly.

//While I was looking for the CG's, I accidentally found this one that shows everyone at the pool together, including Eito, Darumi, and Kyoshika, who are obviously missing or dead by this point in time. This is clearly from a different route where I save the gang, and I guess I spoiled myself, but I'm including this image anyway to kind of emphasize what I mean.

//But this is where we get to the breakoff point.

//The next day after the pool day is the next defensive battle, and this is the first fight in this route where we get Eva on the field to fight with us.

//Maybe it's because the circumstances are different and V'ehxness has already been beaten, but I don't remember everyone being this hostile to her in the Retsnom Route. Everyone was kind of willing to get her on the squad in that one, but most people are against it here.

//Anyway, this is the fight against Addamaque, and it ends exactly as you'd expect, but to give this scene a bit of credit, I really like how this was handled compared to the other routes I've experienced so far.

//Not only is the desperation in Addamaque's voice really prevelant when V'ehxness kills him, but also the reality that V'ehxness survived Kyoshika's suicide bombing makes it hit that much harder.

//I just feel really bad, because Kyoshika's death really hit hard, and now it looks like it was all for naught, and that's very upsetting.

//That said, I got really annoyed at this part. Because it's another one of those fights that canonically you are not allowed to win, and this is like...Number 7 for V'exhness so far.

//I got her down to 1HP, and then I couldn't do any more damage to her. I don't think the game was expecting me to beat her down this easily, but I pretty much obliterated her in a single turn.

//So yeah, that's kind of annoying.

//I would have honestly preferred that I defeat her in battle, but I lose in the cutscene afterwards instead of the game just locking me from winning like this.

//Just when it looks like V'exhness is about to (bullshit) win, the UFB flies out of the school to smash into her with a super-powered flaming nuke attack or...whatever. I did think for a second during the buildup that it might be Eito coming back, but no.

//But this is the critical junction, because our next choice comes here, and instead of being a choose two options thing, this one is actually dictated by a battle.

//After V'exhness gets downed, the sneaky bitch uses her golden guardians to grab both Gaku and Kurara. And even though it's completely and utterly not the case because I've done worse for less, Sirei INSISTS that you can only save one of them.

//Which is very much the case. You effectively have to take out the enemies surrounding either Gaku, or Kurara, and whoever you do it for is saved. The other one gets absorbed by V'ehxness and dies permanently.

//Now, CANONICALLY, what you're supposed to do is let Kurara die. Because as I mentioned before, Kako did insinuate that if Gaku dies, the truth behind this whole war won't come to light, because his actions affect the timeline going forward.

//After coming back to save Gaku, I'm not sure how much of this rings true. Honestly, he doesn't really do any more than he normally does, but that's a spoiler for where I'm at currently.

//And it's also basically the confirmation you need to say that I didn't save Gaku on this go.

//This isn't an easy decision either way, and frankly, I think it's so dumb that you can't at least ATTEMPT to save both of them, because with the game's gameplay system itself, it's more than possible. And I really don't like the fact that Takumi insists that both can be saved, and Sirei just tells him. "Mm...No, don't do that."

//While I do like Kurara more, it still sucks to see Gaku get absorbed. And regardless of the choice, this whole segment is so painful to watch.

//V'ehxness is so fucking despicable, and I HATE it in stories where the bad guy's just CONSTANTLY have the upper hand. This is the point where it felt like absolutely NO MATTER WHAT we end up doing, we will NEVER win against her. Not even Danganronpa ever made me get to a point where things felt this hopeless.

//Takumi came back in time specifically to get a better outcome, but this outcome is already so much worse than the previous timeline, because the Supreme Commander is just frustratingly overpowered.

//Anyway, with that, the route diverges into the Conspiracy Route, and it starts off with Sirei putting everyone on this high-energy drink, which makes everyone act coocoo for coco pops, like they're all high.

//I was worried that this was a sign that revolved around the little shit drugging everyone, but I was wrong. Fortunately, or UNfortunately, because I'm not sure what I got was much better.

//If there's one thing I like about this scene it's that while Kurara does still think very highly of herself, she did clearly care about Gaku, and regrets being the one to survive when he didn't.

//What's even cooler is that now that I've played past this route, this respect goes both ways, since Gaku has similar survivors guilt for Kurara. Considering how at odds the two of them have always been, it's nice to see that they did value each other in some weird way.

//Where things start to go wrong is when Sirei sort of starts spitting on Gaku's memory, saying it's not a great loss because no one really liked Gaku to begin with, but when Takemaru steps up to defend Gaku's name and the two get into a fight, Nigou intervenes and ends up as collateral damage.

//At first he seems fine, but the true effects of the blow become unfortunately clear that same night, as Nigou suddenly becomes corrupted by a third AI program.

//This new AI's name is Gotoh, and apparently, Gotoh is a member of the "Anti-Exodus Faction." A group who believes that humanity dying out is a fate that should be accepted as opposed to making children fight in a war. Gotoh's objective is to send everyone back home to the Artificial Satellite as soon as possible, and to abandon Last Defense Academy.

//Gotoh further explains by revealing to Takumi privately that those who spearheaded the Exodus Project conducted research on memory manipulation at Kamukura General Hospital. He suggests that Sirei and the people behind this war brainwashed Takumi and the others into thinking their lives back on the Satellite were better than they were so we would have a reason to fight to save it.

//I know this is coming out of nowhere, but considering Eva's entire history was overwritten by Sirei, this actually sounds reasonable.

//And what's cool is that Gotoh gives Takumi the same red pill that Sirei gave him at the end of the casual route, which undoes the remains of Sirei's brainwashing in Takumi.

//He then tasks Takumi with trying to convince the other students to turn against Sirei, and go back home.

//And this is where I'm going to stop the summary, because this is where the route's choices start kicking in.

//Honestly speaking, this setup doesn't sound too bad...ON PAPER. However, in execution, this route really does do nothing but a disservice for not only the characters and the story, but to the GAME'S VERY FUNCTIONS.

//What this decision really does is kick off a conspiracy-heavy subplot with major implications for memory manipulation, morality, and control, and a rapid influx of new lore and factions, with Gotoh, the Anti-Exodus group, etc. packed into a short span.

//And as far as I am aware...all of this is COMPLETELY IRRELEVANT in every other playthrough.

//To further emphasize this, the Conspiracy Route takes place over the course of only 4 DAYS. That's not a lot of time, and the Route is defnitely one of the shorter ones in the game, yet compared to all the others I've done so far, by far as the most endings.

//We'll cover them in more detail in a bit, but so far, I've done three routes of this game: Retsnom, Casual, and now Conspiracy.

//The Retsnom Route has 4 endings, the Casual Route has 2, and the Conspiracy Route has 7.

//And without giving too much away, pretty much ALL 7 of those endings result in death, failure, or unresolved ambiguity.

//There are SO MANY ENDINGS, and yet NONE of them are good. Not emotionally, nor from a writing standpoint.

//I distinctly remember Kodaka and Uchikoshi saying they wanted all 100 endings to feel authentic, but that's just wrong here. There's nothing authentic about any of these endings. This path of the game feels like a side plot that doesn’t justify its importance or detour from the main story arc.

//Especially because, once again, nothing shown in this route has any relevance anywhere else in the story.

CHARACTER ARCS:

//Quite possibly one of the most offensive parts of this story is that the characterization of everyone here...I'm not going to say it doesn't get done, but the issue is that when the characters do develop and change their tunes, they quite literally get punished for doing so.

//They're just handled incredibly poorly, and honestly, I don't know how or why something could be fucked up so badly, considering how great the characterization was in Route 0, Retsnom, and hell, I'd argue it was good even in Casual.

//Let's try breaking this down...

//To start with, Gotoh is abruptly introduced as a seemingly helpful figure, only to pivot into an antagonist in most of the endings. Even though this is his route, he remains frustratingly underwritten.

//His motivations are wrapped in hazy philosophical rhetoric, and while he claims to be acting in the students' best interests, his actions say otherwise. He lies, manipulates, and in many branches, straight-up murders the students when they refuse to fall in line.

//It doesn’t come off as morally gray so much as directionless and inconsistent, especially when he should be serving as a compelling foil or tragic figure.

//Takumi, on the other hand, is completely mishandled. He’s forced into one no-win situation after another with no real sense of growth or resolution. He seems more like a narrative punching bag than a character with any real agency or arc.

//I'll go into more of the deep-rooted issues surrounding him in a bite, but despite the emotional weight the writers try to give him, his suffering lacks catharsis and does little to serve the story.

//Sirei too gets to play more of the antagonist in this route, but even his eventual downfall rings hollow. There’s no satisfying payoff, and no thematic closure or character insight. It's just another checkbox ticked off on the route's journey toward a bleak and empty conclusion.

//And then there's Kurara. Her decision-making in this route is jarringly inconsistent with how she was portrayed earlier.

//Yes, I understand she’s dealing with the guilt over Gaku’s death, and that emotional burden should weigh heavily on her choices, but her behavior doesn't line up with her established character. The first major choice you get in this route is for Takumi to decide who between her and Hiruko he will tell about the conspiracy first, and to me, Kurara being an option feels arbitrary, almost like the writers forgot how guarded and confrontational she used to be about their past.

//In the original route, even a mention of life before the Last Defense Academy would set her off. She’d push back, stand her ground, and shut down anyone who questioned their purpose.

//Now, maybe there is something deeper at play. Hell, perhaps Kurara always wanted to go back, and Nozomi’s later remarks in Route 0 support that. And yes, she did agree to stand down when V’ehxness made her proposal, which suggests some internal conflict.

//Even so, while she’s not as single-minded as Hiruko, she was still one of the SDU’s fiercest and most committed fighters. That makes her sudden willingness to walk away from it all feel unearned, unless we assume Takumi’s desperation, Kyoshika’s death, and the worsening conditions finally changed her mind.

//That’s a plausible interpretation, sure, but the narrative doesn’t do the work to fully sell it. It’s an idea we, as the audience, have to rationalize on our own.

THE ENDINGS (#15-#22):

//I normally don't summarize the endings until the last part of my reviews, but I want to cover them quickly, because it segways pretty heavily into the next point I want to make.

//And while it sounds like I'm just dumbing down these endings...I swear to you I am not. I am giving you basically the full recounting of each...

015: A Fair Point

//This ending happens if Takumi refuses to take the red pill, and put his trust in Gotoh. Gotoh kills Takumi.

016: Just A Test

//This ending happens if Takumi takes the pill, but still refuses to trust Gotoh and the anti-faction due to a lack of proof, also wanting to believe that this all meant something. Gotoh kills Takumi.

017: Plans Exposed

//This ending happens if Takumi decides to confide in Hiruko first about the conspiracy. Hiruko instead reports Takumi directly to Sirei, and exposes the plan. Sirei kills Takumi.

018: Empty Words

//This ending happens if Takumi decides to confide in Kurara, and then both of them decide that they can't stop fighting if it means giving up on the sacrifices Kyoshika and Gaku made. It's a touching scene that shows great character and maturity...and then Gotoh kills them both.

019: Out of Ideas

//Should Takumi be able to convince Kurara of the pointlessness of the war, the two of them start working with Gotoh, and start thinking of a plan to make sure Sirei doesn't stop them. The main idea is to kill Sirei in the same way Eito did, but it's a choice you make. Should you choose to think of another way, the plan takes too long, and Sirei catches on. Sirei kills them both.

020: Faltering Resolve

//If you DO decide to go through with killing Sirei and formulate a plan to do so where Gotoh pretends to be Nigou, giving Takumi the option to jump him, you get another choice in the moment whether to actually go through with it. If you refuse...say it with me! Sirei kills Takumi!

021: Liar

//If Takumi successfully kills Sirei, he confronts everyone in the cafeteria to explain the full story, and give everyone their pills and the red envelopes that contain the truth about their families back on the Satellite. This leads to the most difficult choice in the route: to either tekll Nozomi that everything we did was pointless, or to remain quiet, neither of which feel right. Should you remain quiet, Nozomi manages to get through to Takumi, and realize that he's been lying to himself about how he feels. About how he knows that the sacrifices meant something, and it's really touching.

//...

//...Gotoh kills everybody.

022: Lambs to the Slaughter

//This one...

//...th-this one...

//...

//I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE!

//I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON HERE!

//This is supposed to be the true ending of this route, and it's the only one where no one actually dies. If you manage to convince everyone that what happened here was meaningless, and Takumi is surprisingly lenient with everyone. Should they believe him, or desire to stick to their gives, they don't have to join him in going home.

//This is another instance of Takumi and the group being hopelessly dumb though, since there's no evidence that there really is another escape pod at STLDA, as much sense as that makes, and the fact that Gotoh can prepare it remotely is very suspicious.

//It culminates into Gotoh showing up and admitting that what was in the red envelopes were mere fabrications, designed to push us in the "right direction," though everything else he said and did is true. All of this comes out when Takumi is too deep in to back out.

//The game ends with just dead silence, panning shots until it shows the school bus in the middle of nowhere.

//And...That's it! That's the ending! I have no fucking clue why it's called Lambs to the Slaughter. I thought we were running away!?

//But yeah, those are the seven endings to the Conspiracy Route.

//...Do you guys see why I hate this now!?

THE ILLUSION OF CHOICE IN A GAME WHERE YOUR "CHOICES MATTER."

//The Hundred Line markets itself as a choice-driven experience, promising players the power to influence the narrative in meaningful ways, boasting up to 100 distinct endings, each purportedly rich enough to feel like a definitive conclusion.

//The Conspiracy Route is proof that this notion is absolutely BULLSHIT!

//This particular branch is RIDDLED with the illusion of choice. While the game gives the impression of diverging paths, many decisions funnel into the same or nearly identical outcomes.

//In fact, Endings 15 and 16 recycle the EXACT same CG artwork, which is proof enough of the superficiality of the branching.

//This was honestly a problem even BEFORE I started this route. From the VERY MOMENT that you have to choose between saving Gaku or Kurara, when you are VERY CAPABLE of saving both, the game just doesn't let you, because it would rather undercut your agency and break you immersion, especially when differences between choices amount to nothing more than slight dialogue tweaks or timing shifts.

//Of the SEVEN possible outcomes in this route, SIX OF THEM end with Takumi being killed, either by Sirei or Gotoh.

//Tiresome and repetitive are two words to describe that. Bad writing is another.

//The constant inevitability of death, without any emotional or thematic variation, creates a kind of narrative fatigue. Rather than feeling like tragic inevitabilities, these endings feel like lazy dead ends.

//Worse still is the handling of Gotoh, arguably the weakest character in the entire game up to this point. He’s manipulative, dishonest, and fundamentally unlikable, yet the narrative insists on FORCING an alliance with him. The player’s distrust of him is never rewarded, and even when the story teases depth, the execution feels rushed and half-formed. The twists surrounding him could have elevated the intrigue, but instead, they feel like underdeveloped noise, thrown in without payoff.

//None of the endings in this route offer anything close to satisfaction. They range from maddeningly vague to frustratingly unresolved, with little emotional or narrative closure, and DEFINITELY do not enforce the "authenticity," Kodaka and Uchikoshi advocated for.

//The idea that THIS could be someone's first ending is HORRIFYING to me.

//Ironically, the STANDOUT example of this failure is the "Lambs to the Slaughter" ending, arguably the most baffling of the bunch. It's ironic, because this is the only ending in this route that doesn't end with Takumi and his friends getting fucking merced by one of these two dumbass mascots.

//There's no clarity on whether Takumi succeeded in convincing the others, no visuals to anchor the moment, and no dialogue to interpret. The scene is entirely silent and devoid of context, and rather than feeling haunting or thought-provoking, the ending lands as confusing and unsatisfying.

FINAL THOUGHTS:

//This is normally the point where I give my highlights for this game, and some of my favourite moments in the route.

//But I'm not going to that, because I have none. At least, none that I've haven't talked about.

//Ultimately, the conspiracy route feels like a missed opportunity. It's a tangled, lifeless detour in a game that promised dynamic storytelling, and instead of enriching the experience, it undermines the very concept that The Hundred Line was built on: meaningful choice.

//It is also a textbook example of quantity over quality. The barrage of choices gives the illusion of depth, but few of them genuinely alter the outcome or provide satisfying divergence.

//Despite the sheer number of endings, not a single one offers a sense of resolution, hope, or emotional payoff. They're uniformly bleak, hollow, or ambiguous, and none of them feel earned or worthwhile. Instead of presenting a cohesive alternate branch of the story, the conspiracy route plays out like a disconnected tangent that struggles to meaningfully tie into the larger narrative arc or deepen the overarching plot.

//Tonally and structurally, the route feels out of sync with the rest of the game. Events unfold in a fragmented way, and character motivations often lack the clarity or buildup needed to make key twists land. There are flickers of intriguing ideas, such as shadow organizations like the Anti-Exodus group, but they’re introduced and resolved too quickly to have impact, giving the route a rushed, undercooked feeling.

//In the end, despite its ambition and a few scattered high points, the conspiracy route amounts to little more than a confusing detour. It’s heavy on branching, but light on cohesion, character development, and emotional weight.

//And it's enough to land it squarely at the BOTTOM of my list.

-Mod

[atinylittlepain]

Chapter Eight

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!oc

series masterlist

series playlist

warnings: 18+ heavy angst, references to past injury related to DV, very brief and very vague smut

a/n: we've reached the end of this story. i love these two, very much. thank you for reading.

...........................................

Maybe there's a God above But, all I've ever learned from love Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you? And it's not a cry, that you hear at night It's not somebody, who's seen the light It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah as performed by Jeff Buckley

...........................................

The car is real. It is parked outside the house now. Sneering a chrome smile at him, taunting him. The sound of its engine in the mornings when she goes to the diner whispers the same thing everytime. Soon. 

One day after the perfect mess he made, he dropped her off at the diner and she informed him with all the warmth of a business associate that he need not come back to pick her up, because Sal would be giving her the keys to the car that is now parked outside the house, the car that is now hers. The car that is going to take her far away from him, any day now. 

They move around each other like ghosts. How fast fission breeds new rhythms and routines, never in the kitchen at the same time, nor the fields, fleeting passings in the evenings. He has taken on more night shifts to keep himself out of the house, to keep himself from doing something stupid, like knocking on her bedroom door and getting down on his knees. Only a few days, though it feels like a yawning beast of time has already blinked by.

She will tell him, won’t she? At least that. Actually, he’s not sure if she will. If he will come home one morning and the sheep will be calling a grievous sound into the thin air because their favorite has left, stuck with him once again. Warning, notice, if not for him, then at least for her flock. 

How quickly things soured, all their jagged pieces tearing and teething at each other. His mean, her mean, and the desolate monster it has made between them. He will let her leave, he must. Care has turned into a cage, and he must leave the door open, must let her step through to something else, something better. Because clearly, whatever this is, plainly no good. 

The mind is a cruel machine. The worst part of all of this, he has been dreaming of her. Scraps of visions, what he can remember. The perfect line of her clavicle, and how breath made the pools of shadows swell and bend against her skin. The way his hand curled around her thigh, the hinge of it. He wakes up wanting, warm and wretched, alone in the night. But the patrol shifts help with that, something about sleeping with the sun trying to pry through the blinds staving off the darkest of his thoughts. 

Sarah called the other day, asked how Dove was doing. Oh, you know, he said. Because he could not lie to his daughter, but he could not offer the truth either. The truth, neither of them are doing very well. Partial, parallel unraveling. The kitchen remains dormant. There are no trips to the grocery, to the library. Only what is needed for another day to pull over into another night and over again. He looks miserable because he is miserable. Glances he has stolen of her, peering out his bedroom window to watch her get into her car in the mornings, he sees that she has turned sharp again, drawn down and in around the edges. This pain, this sickness, is shared. 

He runs through all the ways it could never work while he sits in the slumbering cruiser on the side of the highway. That lull between spring and summer has arrived, all living things bracing and bending beneath inevitable change, quiet in their submission. Life raises its hackles and curls down low to the ground, silent sulk, waiting for new prey, new time. And in the silence, his thoughts grow and gristle.

No, it could not work. He thought that he could, but clearly he couldn’t. Couldn’t be careful enough around all the big and small hurts that trail after her. Because that’s what that was, that night of no, a hurting thing. A wounded, rejected thing. Easier to call it anger. And so was his, the next day, the car, the turn of her shoulder away from him so he could not see the first line of tears fall. 

And now it’s just a meanness, isn’t it? Anger that festers and flumes into something bitter and blistering. Easier to be mean about it. Sorry is so very difficult to swallow, after all. This silence, this sharp shuttering out, mean, the both of them digging their thumbs into the places it hurts the most and pretending to enjoy it with grimacing grins. Good for you, good for me, so there. Good for us.

Always, at some point in his shift, somewhere in the middle of the thick night, his thoughts turn small and young. We are born wanting, and we will always return to wanting. And he does, now, lets himself want all of it. Even the pain she caused him, he would take it happily, standing up and smiling. Something poetic could be said, something beautiful, but there is no need for the fuss or frill of it. Simply, he wants her. Urgently, he wants her to stay. 

Like all things, the wanting passes just as the night does. Eventually, his grip on the steering wheel unfurls and unfists. Eventually, the light begins to spread a pale blue out across all the ink of the plains. Morning starting to suggest itself, mercy. 

He blinks, bleary, a small protest from the engine when he inches the car back onto the road, time to return to the station, want still clearing from the fuzzy periphery of his mind. 

It does not scare or startle him, but it does give him pause. Coyotes, fur dunned and dull, matted tufts sticking up over their slinking bodies. They cross the road with no concern for the car, slow languorous placement of paws, the largest of them turning its jaded eyes into the headlights, perhaps a disillusioned sigh, before it continues on its path. Pups trail and trundle behind, nipping at mother’s tail, new energy, new life, and how dangerous, daunting, daring it can be. 

He does not go back to the station. He goes home. 

Still early, still sleeping, maybe. He does the thing he has been telling himself he shouldn’t. But shouldn’t is what got him here in the first place. Enough of needless shouldn’t. 

She is awake. Her hair still damp from a shower, darkening the blue shoulders of her uniform when she opens the door to her room. Her room, the guest room, whatever it is. Confusion is clear in her frown, the pull of her brow. She keeps the door halfway closed, a quiet understanding of distance needed.

“Are you leaving soon?” Shit, stupid, wrong words that got ahead of what he meant to say. And he just made this so much worse, her whole face pinching tight before slackening into something smaller, something sad. 

“I am. I’m sorry that I haven’t yet.” Sorry that she hasn’t left yet. Sorry that she didn’t get out sooner. And here he is, rubbing all that sorry in her face. 

“No.” All he can think, to quickly slip up his throat to, at the very least, keep her here with half of a closed door between them. Better than the alternative anyways.

“What?” 

“That’s not what I want, not at all.” It is selfish to make this about him, but it is all he can think to say, the only truth that seems to be offering itself up. Dove just looks tired, weary and worn, waiting for the catch. What she said, all those months ago. Always a catch, always waiting for it.

“Joel.” A sigh, but still smarting sweet because he hasn’t heard it from her in too long. 

“This isn’t working.” Going about this all wrong, he has finally realized. While he has been so afraid of no, of unwanted, he has failed to remember that she was taught a long time ago that wanting was not allowed, and that being wanted was an even worse impossibility. Both of them, lashing out against the same thing, though it’s each other that they leave bleeding.

“No, it’s not.”

“I’m going to try to speak plainly.” What he’s going to do is make her late for her shift if he doesn’t kick whatever courage there is whining in his chest up into his throat. But she shows no sign of rush, wide eyes and the smallest frown. 

“Okay.” Okay opens the door fully, though she doesn’t move in invitation, staying separated by the threshold. 

“I don’t want you to leave.” 

“Ever.” Added in the afterthought of silence, because he needs to make himself very clear. Soon, after all. 

“I’m not what you want, Joel.” Said with a scoff, a jerky wave of her hand like no, not even going to entertain it. But it’s enough for something soft to snap in him, hands reaching, but not touching, suspended want as he murmurs, or prays maybe, to her you are, you are, you are, Dove.  

“But I can’t keep you here. Not if you don’t want it.” Me, he meant to say me. But he thinks that she understands all the same, something slipping behind her eyes. 

“I shouldn’t.” Shouldn’t stay, shouldn’t want. A shameful confession that is said to the tips of her shoes more than it is to him. 

“I don’t fucking care.”

“You should.” 

“Just, please, tell me.” 

“I do, okay? Probably more than you do.” 

“That’s not true.”

“How can you just say that?”

“Because I know how much I do. And it’s everything.” And that’s it, he wants to say, that’s all that matters and nothing else and you do and I do. Case closed, finally fixed this thing, this lame, limping thing between them. If only it were that simple. 

“Do you really?” A leap, or more like a lurch, but pure relief when she lets him, two stuttering steps closer and one palm finding the space between her shoulder blades, the other the hilt of her spine, pulling her into him. His and hers, finding the other’s rhythm. Beat like this, body and blood like this. His mouth settles at the crown of her skull. Here, and nowhere else, not ever again, please. 

“Sometimes it makes me sick.” The truth, because there can be nothing else now. Yes, he is sick with it. Sick for her. 

“I want to be normal for you.” Muffled into the fabric of his shirt, and the unsaid after of it. I don’t think I can. Like sorry, like penance, her hands curling closer around his shoulders as she starts to shake. But what he can offer her, something still, something sure, his palms drawing her in even more, him breathing her breathing him.

“I’m not asking you for that, Dove.” No, asking for something much bigger, much more terrifying. Asking for all of it. 

…

Dove is only a little late to her shift. Joel drops her off, waits a few minutes to make sure there is no grief from Sal about it, not that he was expecting there to be. Replays to himself her explanation, what she told him on the way there.

“I didn’t get the car to leave, not really.”

“You didn’t?” 

“Before, I thought it would make things easier.” For him, he realizes, something she had thought of for him. Make things easier for him, not having to pick her up and drop her off and look bored at the library while she browsed. And no, he’s never going to forgive himself for this one. 

He doesn’t go back to the diner for lunch, but it’s not for spite or scorn. Agreed-upon space for both of them to think, offering an out for each other, one last opportunity to decide that this is actually a terrible idea. 

The sheep accept his presence and it feels like he finally got something right, even a laugh when Judy offers her head to him for a brisk rub beneath her chin. 

“She’s coming home, I think. I know you wouldn’t forgive me if she didn’t.” No response, she is a lamb, after all. But he’d like to think that her two hard blinks commend him, already plucking away through the grass toward her mother. 

When he does pick her up after her shift, her lips purse trying to pull back a smile as she walks around the front of the car. Hope lifts, winged and real in his chest. 

The day steals from the night this time of year. It won’t be dark out until much later. For now, the light is starting to bleed a little, orange syrup and haze filling and flooding the cab of the truck. Nothing is said, but staying is understood when she takes his hand in both of hers, and keeps it for herself, tucked in her lap the whole ride home. 

So much of their time together has been spent like this, driving toward and away from town, sometimes silent and sometimes not. A selfish part of him wishes she hadn’t gotten the car, wanting to keep her needing him in this way. But no, he reasons, there will be plenty of other time besides this. No need to be greedy about it. 

There is not much food in the kitchen, but there are always eggs. Two for him and two for her. They eat standing up, propped against the counter. And when he moves to wash the dishes in the sink, she catches his wrist. The dishes can wait until the morning.

The thing about Dove is she has always had a curious way of touching him. Literally curious, like she is surprised she is allowed to trace the pads of his fingertips with her own, spirals fitting together. Like she is testing the boundaries of him, finding all the soft places with her palms, spanning his sides and up along his chest, fingers flirting beneath the collar of his shirt, shivering down with it. But before this continues, he must make sure, must ward off that ghost for good. He takes her face in his hands, thumbs settling along the soft curve beneath her eyes, tracing some constant constellation, her cheeks rounding with it.

“I need to know that this is what you want.” 

“It is.” 

“I need you here. With me.”

“I am, Joel. I am.” This isn’t want, after all. Want isn’t big enough for whatever this is. Something deeper, something threaded in with all the sinew and stretch of bone, ligament, and beating tissue. This is need. Vital and visceral, and so very precarious. 

His need makes a foolish fumble out of the buttons of her dress, a laugh dancing beneath the brush of his knuckles, catching somewhere under her sternum when his eyes flicker up to hers. She rolls her lips back into her mouth, trying to tamp down any mirth or mocking, but a huff still slips out, smile threatening at the edges. How easy, how lovely, fitting the curve of his own against hers. That laugh turns into a sigh that he swallows. 

And it was never about letting or allowing, never about being big or strong enough to scare off all her specters. What has changed, he isn’t sure. But waiting, he has found, is often a solution in itself. Maybe just the mercy of enough time, enough space shared and understood. Brains finally catching up to bodies, deciding yes, now is good. 

Need makes animals stupid. A caught thing, captured and crumpled thing, will gnaw off its own limb in need of escape. A hungry, hungered thing will turn so desperate, so singular and silly in its need. It will take whatever sate it can get. Hands and skin and teeth and tongues. And in the kitchen no less, still hungry, still needing. Jawing up each other, and humming at the taste. Feast and fire and flood all in one. 

Her mouth settles sharp along the tendons in his neck, humming there as he curls over her to shrug her dress down and down into a pool around her feet. A little snarl, a little curl of her lip, preening when his palms squeeze her hips, coaxing her closer into his chest. She is far more schooled in the work she makes of his shirt, and then, missed this. Missed skin against skin and heart straining to press against heart. Missed the run of his fingers down her ribs, the quick catch at her waist. He only got it once before, a blink compared to this, but he has been missing it ever since, a sigh now that he has it again. Has her again. And Dove, still learning how she gets to have him.

“Can I?” A kiss to her brow, a smear of words whatever you want, Dove. Tentative at first, she presses her mouth to the hollow where his throat slips into clavicle, letting her nose run a line out to the edge of bone, to shoulder, enough sense to turn her a little bolder, fingers curling into the waist of his jeans, tugging. And it is not graceful, silly, stupid, needing bodies curling and caving into each other. His legs splay out long as he settles back against the cabinets below the sink, Dove furling into his lap, the perfect spread of her thighs at his hips. 

A lesson in the anatomy of need. Here is how. How a body can give and take everything it needs from another body. So simple, really. Open mouths and muscles slackening sweet and syrupy to make space for more, more, more. She keens when he turns his face into the curve of her breast, fingers curling in his hair, holding him there in the cradle of her heartbeat, his ears rushing with it. 

It is not pretty, it is not about making it perfect, or even right. It is a desperate seeking, it is relief from this need in the way they just manage to shrug his jeans and boxers down over his thighs, in the way she slips the faded cotton of her underwear to the side. Wet for him, wanting for him, he will have to sate the want to see some other time. For now, feeling, all sense and singe, spreading her open until her hips settle down against his. A broken, murmuring sound in the back of her throat, eyes scrunched shut. He brings his hand to her jaw, thumb stroking along the hinge as he calls to her, let me see, Dovey, please. Hello, lashes flutter first, and the slow slip open. Hello, looking at him, her forehead against his, her mouth resting open and panting against his. 

They move ugly, muscles jumping and jolting, sharp breaths that break and swell in their chests. Skin starts to stick, he holds her closer and chases down their pleasure, shared and searing. 

In the kitchen, she crashes with a cry of his name, her face hidden in the curve of his neck, mouth to pulse. 

In the kitchen, she whispers and wills him right over his own edge, her name, more sob than sound. 

In the kitchen, he would feed her his heart if he could. It’s hers anyways. 

…

Want is a child. But need is an animal. Need is base, bruising, battering. There is no escaping need. There is no lying about need. There is only offering it up, and hoping that someone will see it and decide yes, animal, come here, let me do something about your need, and you can do something about mine. 

Later, after they pick their clothes up off the kitchen floor, kind hands setting things back into place for each other, they slink outside to care for the flock, the sun starting to flirt back behind the mountains with a fierce blush. It’s then, surrounded by the low murmurings of sheep, that she whispers her own need to him, tucked into his side, her cheek pressed against his chest. 

He nods, says yes, okay. He can do that for her. And she will do the same for him. 

For now, all that matters is staying. Ghosts yet to be greeted and goaded out of their house. But for now, spring is rolling over to expose its soft, slumbering belly. Soon, summer will sink in, snarling and bright, a new list of chores and duties with every season. They will do it together. 

For now, the lambs are still lambs. Stumbling still around the edges, seeking out their mother even amidst her seeming exasperation, tired of their clinging, their closeness. Time yet to be had, getting older and bigger every day. But for now, they are young and soft, and nipping after each other in the field. 

For now, the feeling of her ribs expanding and contracting against his side is all the goodness he could want, or even need. Pain yet to be understood in all the places that her breath catches. But for now, she is looking at him and smiling, and saying something about the sheep that makes him laugh.

For now, it is enough. 

.............................................

taglist: @casssiopeia @eleganthottubfun @anoverwhelmingdin @sscorpiiio @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @suzmagine @syakhairi @spookyxsam @northernbluess @hier--soir @joelsgreys @wannab-urs @tieronecrush @trulybetty @softlyspector @noisynightmarepoetry @csarab615 @ratoonstown @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @lizzie-cakes @beskarandblasters @motherofagony

[cbrownjc]

You know, I was already feeling kind of apathetic toward Season 2 of HOTD, but I was still trying to remain positive about it.

And then I read the Blood and Cheese leaks . . .

Oh.

I mean, look. I get it. They probably didn't want to traumatize young children by doing the scene directly as-is. But I DO think there is a way you could have done it almost the same way as they appear to be doing it, without it losing any of its bite and horror.

Like, you could still have all three kids in bed together, but awake and scared and crying quietly, completely confused as their mother is being threatened in front of them to choose. And, you know, having Alicent there, gagged and tied, so the kids also see their grandmother in trouble as well.

And, you know, have Maelor there too, so the choice is still between the older and younger boys. With Maelor still hears his mother choose his older brother over him.

Then when Haelena makes her choice, they grab Jaehaerys up out of the bed in a quick cut and you don't actually see his murder, just cut away to guards hearing Haelena screaming. When the guards burst in, Blood and Cheese are gone, Jaehaera and Maelor are still sitting on the bed shellshocked. Haelena, meanwhile, is kneeling in front of the bed on the floor, her back to the door, but obviously cradling a little body that is still mostly hidden but causing a pool of blood to spread around her, still screaming.

This way, you obviously don't have little kid actors being visually threatened with knives and swords and such on screen. And possibly traumatizing such little kid actors in any way by doing it the way it was written. Leaving the kids all on the bed also means you can just show them in isolated cuts, where they don't even have to have been filming while things such as Haelena being threatened -- as well as the threats to the kids themselves -- are happening. You only need one or two establishing wide shots to show everyone in the room, and that's it.

And of course, you don't see one of the kids get their head cut off. Just Jaehaerys being grabbed from the bed instead of Maelor (after Haelena chooses Maelor to die and we get cut over to a close-up of his scared face), and then just smash-cut to the guards hearing Haelena screaming.

There. That's IMO how you do that scene without traumatizing little kid actors as well as still giving the scene its disturbing bite. Not whatever it sounds like we are getting instead. Which not only doesn't have Haelena not even offer up her own life for her kids, which, okay, but apparently makes the choice between the twins while they are asleep, and they don't even hear their mother picking between them. And Maelor is just being cut altogether since there was no time to establish him.

If the show is going for another Red Wedding moment with this -- which it very much could have been -- then they failed, and utterly butchered it. Because the true horror of the moment isn't even Jaehaerys losing his head. It was Haelena having to choose which of her children to die, the kids hearing their mother make that choice between them, and then the one she chose to die having to live with the knowledge that his mother chose for him to die, while the one she chose to live got murdered instead.

It is all supposed to be Sophie's Choice but with a crueler twist. And it sounds like they very much like they executed it all completely wrong. It was already going to be hard to get audiences to care since we've barely seen the twins -- and Maelor not at all (which, given that he's been cut . . .) -- but even then, you could have still had the kids hearing the choice made, which is supposed to be part of the cruelty and shock of it all. And now . . .

I'm really trying not to shit on this without seeing it yet. But just hearing how this was done isn't giving me much confidence -- for this or in enjoying the season on the whole in truth.

[saxlochapologist]

do you think if Loch died would Tim purposefully tell the family it was a suicide in order to not be suspected for murder

oooh this is a really good question! honestly I think in the moment Tim wouldn't even know how to spin it. He was clearly insanely upset about the prospect of anything happening to lochlan when he found him by the pool. I think Victoria would have IMMEDIATELY suggested that someone poisoned or did something to him at the monastery. She kept talking about how it's like a cult and insinuating they might be into mass suicide and all the other insanely offensive concerns she was having. I think she would be very loud about the fact that those people did something to her baby. and like I don't think Tim would have to say much about it right away bc Victoria would be taking all the air out of the room talking about her theory.

However I think things would obviously get more complicated when the family finds out what's going on back at home. But I still don't think even for a minute oblivious Victoria would think Tim had anything to do with it, Sax would be silently melting because "I made lochy kill himself" and Piper would be silently feeling guilty because lochlan did just accompany her to the monastery and she has no idea how this could have happened.

Idk it would be such a fucking insane chaotic time in their family's life but I think if push came to shove and the media was looking for a narrative or Tim was being pressed in some way, or no one was buying whatever initial story they were telling, I do think Tim would follow along with the suicide narrative in an attempt to exonerate himself from any potential blame. It's fucked up but we've already seen what Tim is capable of doing when things start getting too heavy or falling apart. But I don't necessarily think blaming suicide would be Tim's first course of action either. I think he'd go along with whatever Victoria was saying about it for as long as he possibly could.

[juiceortizprospect34]

# Ghosts We Carry- Chapter 15

The clubhouse came into view as they rounded the final corner, a weathered single-story building with boarded windows and the Sons' reaper insignia barely visible in the dim glow of the single security light. Under different circumstances, the sight might have filled Juice with relief. Tonight, it only reminded him how tenuous their safety was.

Dawn was still hours away when they pulled into the lot, engines cutting almost in unison. The silence that followed felt unnatural after the sustained roar of their ride. Elena's arms loosened from around Juice's waist, but she didn't immediately dismount. He could feel her exhaustion, her fear.

"We're here," he said softly, helping her off the bike. Her legs trembled beneath her.

Chibs was already barking orders, sending Tig to secure the perimeter and Happy to ready the back room. The old Scot had slipped effortlessly into the role of battlefield commander, his face a mask of controlled tension under the harsh outdoor lights.

"Get her inside," Chibs directed, nodding toward Elena. "I want everyone accounted for and a full lockdown in ten minutes."

Juice guided Elena through the front door, past the pool tables and bar that had witnessed a thousand nights of revelry and violence. The place smelled of stale beer and cigarettes—an oddly comforting scent that meant home to him now.

"Sit," he told her, gesturing toward one of the worn leather couches. "I'll get you some water."

While he filled a glass at the bar, he watched her take in her surroundings—the mugshots on the wall, the reaper flags, the broken neon beer signs. The clubhouse wasn't much, but it was the closest thing to a fortress they had.

"Here," he said, returning with the water and a first-aid kit. "Let me see your wrists."

The zip-ties had left angry red marks where they'd bitten into her skin. He cleaned the abrasions carefully, aware of how she winced at his touch.

"You're safe here," he said, though the words felt hollow even as he spoke them. "The club protects its own."

Elena took a long sip of water before speaking. "I'm not one of your own."

"You are now," he replied, meeting her eyes. "Anyone who puts my brothers at risk for me, who stands up to someone like Krane—that makes you family in my book."

The door banged open as the rest of the Sons filed in. They moved with the practiced efficiency of men who had weathered storms before, securing entrances, checking weapons, pulling shades.

Chibs dropped heavily into a chair across from them, his expression grave. "We've got maybe twenty-four hours before they find us here. Tops."

"What about the police?" Elena asked.

The question brought a humorless laugh from Tig as he passed by. "Sweetheart, half the local force is on HaviCorp's payroll. The other half wouldn't cross Zobelle if Jesus himself came down and asked."

"We're on our own," Juice confirmed. "Like always."

Happy emerged from the back room, his face expressionless as ever. "Room's ready. Got the scanner going, but it's quiet for now."

Chibs nodded and turned to Juice. "Tell us everything. What exactly were they after with that hack?"

All eyes turned to him. These were men who had seen him at his weakest, who had forgiven his betrayals, who had welcomed him back despite everything. He owed them the truth, however dangerous it might be.

"They've got a weapons system," he began, choosing his words carefully. "Something next-level. Not just drones or smart bombs. I think it's some kind of targeted biological weapon."

"Christ," Chibs muttered.

"They needed me to break into a secure military database—authorization codes, deployment protocols, that kind of thing. But there was something else." Juice rubbed his temples, trying to organize his thoughts. "They had files on all of us. Not just criminal records—medical histories, DNA profiles."

"The hell would they want with our DNA?" Tig asked, his usual swagger momentarily replaced by genuine concern.

"I don't know. But whatever they're building, it's designed to target specific genetic markers. That's why they needed Elena." He glanced at her. "Her father's research—it was about genetic variations in immune response, wasn't it?"

She nodded slowly, eyes widening with realization. "How did you—"

"I saw the file names when they had me at the terminal. They've been following his work for years. And yours."

Elena's face paled. "My God... they're trying to create a weapon that can target specific populations. Specific families."

"Or specific individuals," Juice added. "A weapon that kills only the people you want it to kill, leaving everyone else untouched."

The room fell silent as the implications sank in. Finally, Chibs stood, his chair scraping harshly against the floor.

"Right. This isn't just about protecting our own anymore. This is bigger." He looked around the room, meeting each man's eyes in turn. "We're outgunned and outnumbered, but we've got two things they don't: we know what they're after now, and they won't be expecting us to hit back."

Juice felt a familiar tightness in his chest—the precursor to panic—but he pushed it down. The ghosts that had haunted him for so long seemed to stand at his shoulders now, not weighing him down but bolstering him up. Memories of brothers lost, battles fought, mistakes made—all of it forming a foundation rather than a burden.

"I can get into their system," he said with more confidence than he felt. "Now that I know what to look for, I can find proof of what they're doing."

"And then what?" Elena asked. "Who would believe us? Who would we even tell?"

Happy, who had been silently cleaning his gun in the corner, spoke up. "There's that fed. The one who came around after the Mayan thing last year. Wasn't completely dirty."

"Agent Ross," Chibs confirmed with a nod. "Might be worth a call."

"First things first," Juice said. "We need to know exactly what we're dealing with. I need a secure laptop, a way to access their network without being traced."

"Got some gear stashed," Tig offered. "Not state of the art, but it'll do the job."

Chibs nodded decisively. "Alright then. Juice, you and Elena work on getting that intel. Tig, Happy—I want rotations on watch, two hours on, two off. I'll reach out to some old IRA contacts, see if we can get some hardware that isn't traceable to us." He paused, looking around the room. "Anyone not willing to see this through, speak now. No judgment."

No one spoke. Instead, there was only the sound of weapons being checked, ammunition being counted.

Elena leaned closer to Juice, her voice barely above a whisper. "These men... they're willing to go up against a corporation with government ties, professional killers, all of it—just on your word?"

Juice watched his brothers prepare for war with a mixture of pride and fear. "It's not about me. It's about what's right. And about family." He turned to look at her. "They've been carrying their own ghosts long before I showed up. This is what we do. We carry them together."

Outside, the first hint of dawn began to lighten the eastern sky, casting long shadows across the clubhouse lot. A new day was coming, bringing with it unknown dangers and slim hopes. But for the first time in years, Juice felt ready to face whatever came.

Not because he was unafraid, but because he was no longer facing it alone.

[jackienautism]

The fact if Nick was a yt girl and Emma was a guy y’all would lose your minds at the truth or dare scene, hate Emma and sympathize with Nick

(Not saying you have to like Nick it’s fine if you don’t) but the whole logic of “he could have gotten out of the situation but he didn’t” is kind of gross and giving victim blaming vibes??

Emma was there to see him express he was uncomfortable with kissing her but she still initiated it. He probably got awkward and too nervous to stop her. He’s also characterized as someone who “falls in line with others around him” so he most likely lacked the confidence to tell her to stop. Even shot of his face after Emma pulls away, he looks nervous and upset rather than pleased with the kiss.

And your whole logic of “he wants tits and ass” is so inaccurate it’s not even funny lol. He told Jacob to “don’t be gross” when Jacob implied something sexual between Nick and Abi. And the whole pool scene where Nick was saying weird stuff? Him saying “you smell so good” and “I want to taste you” means he LITERALLY wants to taste her. He’s a WEREWOLF. Not defending him in that scene and Abi had the right to be freaked out but I’m saying it’s not sexual. Even Evan Evagora, Nick’s actor, confirmed that he acted the way he did due to the infection and it’s not truly him (there are screenshots of an Instagram story he said that in that are floating around on tumble) so I have no idea where you got the idea that he wanted sex from Abi

what thje FUCK ar eyou even saying right now? ppl fucking HATE EMMA OVER THE TRUTH OR DARE SCENE???????? PPL BARELY SYMPATHIZE W/ HER??????????????? thats just in fucking accurate my guy. NO ONE EVER BRINGS UP NICK'S INVOLVEMENT THATS ALL IM FUCKING SAYING LMAO. PPL ALREADY HATE EMMA OVER IT LIKE I DONT KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOURE TALKING ABOUT

victim blaming for WHAT? please TELL ME.

then why the hell was he there w/ his tongue down emma's throat?????? he didnt have to go all in and yet he did! and also, my friend, his arms / hands were wide fucking open ready for emma? and he also leaned in just as much as her????? ALL IM GODDAMN SAYING IS IT ANNOYS ME THAT PPL ALWAYS BLAME EMMA FOR WHAT HAPPENED. WHEN NICK WAS JUST AS INVOLVED. I DONT CARE WHAT YOU THINK HAPPENED. and i took the shot of his face being nervous or fucking whatever due to jacob literally screaming at them to stopl. and the fucking fact that he just kissed his "crush's" best fucking friend.

mauybe im wrong w/ that, i dont rly fucking care though. i dont care. i jsut took the infected nick as exposing hsi innermost desires. similar to what we've seen w/ the other characters, it makes them super vulnerable and whatever. and i just took some fo what infected nick was saying as him exposing himself! "easy pickins, right off the bone" yeah maybe that was just him being hungry bc hes a werewolf or whatevr but i took it that he was just going after abi bc shes an "easy" target. i dont rly care what the actor has to say sorry. i moreso care abt the writers but like sure i get it. since i like ace laura and ryan and i know both justice and siobhan talked abt it and i take their word for it. i hahd a better explanation as to why i thought nick wanted tits and ass butits been awhile since ive played and i forgot most of my thought process. anyway im gonna go kill myself now i guess.

[freeluigihesbae]

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓮𝓬𝓭𝓸𝓬𝓱𝓮 - 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 4

fic summary:

the synecdoche is the agency we've seen in the movies. it's an agency that's real.

the reader is arya nitwa, code named riposte, who is a cold and calculated, terribly vulnerable but expert eccidetniest for her own good. she's a top ranking agent with her own team

luigi mangione, code named kismet, is cheery and clever, making his own marks in the agency after he loses the things that meant the most to him and hiding a pool of wounds beneath his smile.

arya and luigi cross paths for a new mission, where arya is forced to trust luigi while he is forced to heal. what happens when a forbidden love and a complex tangle of emotions comes to lie before their eyes?

chapter summary: walls are breaking and love is in the making.

𝗍𝗐: 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾

Muffled noises from outside of Arya's door make her blink with struggle as she tries to place herself. She's confused, not understanding why she's in a fetal position with a blanket on top.

Wait, why is there a blanket on her?

Arya sits up with a jolt, grabbing the soft blue blanket that was just covering her body. She lets her fingers press and feel around it, as though it could tell her what exactly happened last night. Shaking her head, she picks up the hair-tie lying on her side and ties her hair in haste before getting up and seeing a small pink paper slipped between her door. Her brows furrow as she takes cautious steps to unlock the door. The paper slides onto the floor before she senses sp,e food nearby.

Wait, it's right outside her door.

There's a cart outside with covered bowls and plates. Utterly confused, Arya chooses to stand and process what she was sensing: her stomach did the work for this one as she appreciated the smells of orange, chocolate, eggs, and spices that made her stomach scream hunger. Turning to look at the paper in her hands, she opens its neat, methodical folds before reading the note.

Riposte,

I'm not sure if you remember whAt happened last night, but just to give a recap, you fell asleep with your face in my cheek. It sounds pretty weiRd but honestly, I'm worried you might panic so I'm letting you know that I was happy to be there for you. Maybe you didn't see it as help and maybe you're angry that I came and made you lash out, but it seems like something broke within you. I'm especially honored that You're trusting me with such painful secrets. I don't expect you to come for a lesson today because you probably didn't get sleep, but I'll be waiting for you in room 312 at 3pm today. I'll be there for 15-ish minutes before leaving. I used one of my gifts for the year to get some food delivered to your door. I'm not sure what you like so I asked the kitchen to prepare what I usually get in a dAy.

I hope you trust me more.

I trust you too.

Kismet.

Arya's memories start flooding back. Luigi walking in. Telling her story. Crying. Screaming. His arms around her. Her scared he'd touch her. Her falling asleep. She's incredulous, wondering how she was able to let herself stand and feel…okay with having been vulnerable.

For the first time in 12 years, Arya tries but fails to fight back the smile that grows on her face. It could be much bigger - she could let her teeth show - but she doesn't. Instead, an ever-so slight curve graces her face as she presses the note to her chest. Perhaps it's the words, the length, the way he spelled out ARYA in such a stupidly childish and laughable manner that made this so thoughtful, or how he ordered all his meals for the day in a single gift. Or maybe, it's because he used the gift in the first place.

Gifts were an additional bonus every agent had with their daily meals. Kitchen was open to get whatever, whenever, but you could only order and keep the food for yourself, with the exception of gifts. Every agent had three gifts for the year where they could choose and send food of their choice to any agent or employee in the Synecdoche. Arya never used hers because she never felt the need and knew it wasn't frequent for others to use it either. But Luigi had chosen to use his and that touched her in a way she hadn't felt for over a decade.

Loved.

Suddenly the idea of trust didn't seem so far from her grasp. She saw goodness that was selfless and pure.

No, it wasn't.

Arya's head started pulsing again as wretched thoughts filled her mind. She pulled the cart inside before slamming the door and sinking to the floor. Not again not again. She held her arms up to her forehead, pressing herself against the door behind her and shouting curses, trying to stop the noise in her head.

"He's playing you." She hears a voice speak with a low, mischievous tone.

"He's not he's just being nice." Arya finds herself talking out loud, saying words she never thought she could utter again in her life.

"He just wants to make sure you dance before throwing you to the ways-" Arya gets up and slams her arm on the door before realizing she made a dent. But she couldn't give a care.

This situations was difficult since the Luigi had offered her a day of rest. In most cases and any other time, she would've taken it without any hesitation or care. But after what happened last night, two choices became clear: she could take rest and wallow in the comfort of the despair that eat away at her every single day, or walk out the door. Push her legs which feel heavy to walk into a room where her inner steel will dent or the stone will find itself vulnerable with more cracks and exchange her hiding place for a small, merely negligible chance at being happy.

She wanted happiness. She was still young. She was still deserving of good things. Arya places her fist in the dent, mumbling words to stop the evil from growing and creeping upon her. They wouldn't stop, but their volume certainly decreased. She found herself checking the time with a craze.

2:45pm.

She overslept, but that wasn't her concern. Ever since Brass had assigned the task of meeting with Luigi yesterday, she wasn't obligated to meet with her team unless they paged her or vice versa. She grabs her pager, squeezing her eyes shut whenever the words in her mind get too loud. Opening them, she sees there are 0 messages. Perfect, she thinks to herself, before she's running around the room, talking to herself so that she can bounce irregularity against the methodical madness in her mind and get out of the door. She had to leave this room. She had to. If she didn't leave, she'd be caging herself in again.

She wanted to be free from herself. If one thinks about it, leaving her room was an allusion to her leaving the shell she created for all these years. It would be as though she slipped through one of the several hundred cracks that appeared after last night's situation.

She throws on a wrapped, long sleeve top with sweatpants. She didn't have to be in uniform which meant outfits were to her discretion. She throws on foundation and powder, wondering why society couldn't accept a bare face for once before realizing nobody really asked her to put the makeup which then leads her to take it all off before she's panicking and oh-

3:09pm.

"FUCK!" Arya screams in frustration running around her room frantically, not even understanding what else she was supposed to pick up. She throws on some socks and shoes, tying them lazily before grabbing her pager and running the door.

"I'm leaving you." She whispers to herself quietly and opens the door halfway before stopping.

The hairpin.

She grabs it, giving it a kiss and placing it in her hair, wincing at her own force before closing the door.

Free, for now.

~

Arya finds herself sprinting down the hallway, successfully having made it out of her room and down the elevator to the third floor, only to realize 312 was the most hidden room on the floor.

3:15pm.

She feels another cry bubble up that she silences while keeping a straight face, telling herself over and over again that she'll see him. She runs down to the end of the shamelessly long hallway before throwing the door open to see

no-one.

The lights are off, with the exception of a crack of sunlight illuminating the dust that is floating around in the room as if nobody ever came. Arya steps inside, looking around the corners to see if there was a bag or any belongings, hoping he stepped outside but it was to no avail. Arya's face goes blank. She lets the emotion from her eyes dissipate into the air, freezing as she slowly hears voices.

"Nobody loves you."

"Why would he come? Why would he touch you?"

Arya grabs her head, feeling insulted by her own desperation. What did she expect would happen? She feel the cracks heal themselves, slowly suffocating her as one-by-one, it gets harder to breathe.

"Arya?" Arya's eyes widen and she stands up before turning right around. She swallows down the shock as she realizes Luigi's face is just about two inches away from hers. Luigi is staring at her, eyes darting around to understand why she was hunched over seconds ago. Instinctively, his hands raise to grab her shoulders but he hesitates before stepping back and stuttering, scratching the back of his neck. Arya finds her eyes widening and trying to reach for him before retracting and locking her hands behind her back.

Her expression returns to being thin and neutral with the exception of her eyes shying away from his.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't want to do anything I just wanted to comfort you." Luigi speaks with hesitation in his voice, gripping the strap of his bag while swallowing hard, fearing he may have startled her. Arya quickly steals a look into his eyes before swallowing and look away from him. She wants to tell him she was scared. That she was hearing voices. That she was afraid she wasn't worthy of his touch. That she was also afraid of his touch.

She look back into his eyes which are already looking at her with softness and concern, She parts her lips to speak, wanting to let the words fall and rest in his palms. But, she has manners.

And trust issues.

But she quiets the commotion in her head before saying "I got scared when I didn't see you here." Arya's hands reach to her throat, feeling her breath constrict at her confession. It was like that contaminated oxygen, the only air she had and lived with this entire time, was getting sucked out of her body every time she replayed the phrase she just uttered.

Luigi's eyes soften even more, impossible more, Arya thinks, as he watches her hand tighten around her throat. His eyes widen again, heart beating faster and faster before realizing she might be panicking again. He can't stop himself, grabbing her arm and pulling it away from her neck. Arya bites her lips and winces, bending her head down to somehow distance herself from him stepping so close and holding her arm. His grip is firm but forgiving, allowing her the freedom to pull away if she so chooses.

"Arya, we don't need to do this to-" "No matter what, Luigi, don't say no. Let me-" Arya interrupts Luigi, putting a finger up as he watches a frustration light up her eyes. "Let me find myself." Arya gulps, standing back before giving a quiet sorry. Luigi's confusion dissolves into a smile before he extends a hand, palm out just like the night before. Arya's face, previously steeled with self-loathe and confusion, melts into a ghost of a smile that she gives while staring into Luigi's eyes. He blinks, pushing his hand an inch closer to her, for which she slips her hand in quietly, before letting her lips curve up higher. Arya lets her eyes follow Luigi as they both step into the open room. It has mirror lining one wall while the other is wood, which makes Arya let out a sigh because something in this place isn't white.

"I was late which is why you didn't see me here. I'm sorry about that." Luigi stops walking, Arya following suit, before speaking. His hand is still holding hers, the two guiltily indulging in the softness of each other's skin. Arya listens intently, the small smile never leaving her face. "That's okay. I woke up 15 to 3pm so it took everything in me to sprint down here." Arya smiles wider and laughs before remembering the food. "Thank you for the gift, Luigi."

Luigi's eyebrows furrow before he lets out a chuckle. "The pleasure is mine after that conversation we had in the lounge room. I really needed someone besides my team members to talk to." He lets go of Arya's hand before placing it on her shoulder, imitating the barely-there pressure he exerted in the lounge that day. Her head slightly turns but goes back into place, unafraid.

"He'll leave at some point you bi-"

"Arya." She seems lost again, Luigi notes, before shaking her lightly. Arya looks up at him, a bit startled before giving a dry laugh.

"Sorry. Thinking." Arya waves her hand to brush her thoughts off.

"No problem." Luigi bends down to unzip his bag, making it nearly impossible for Arya to ignore his defined back, lending itself into an hourglass at his waist. Every imperceptible and perceptible shift in his actions creates an obvious change, highlighting how toned he was. Arya tries not to think too much of it, simply convincing herself that she was admiring his discipline.

He gets back up, carrying two water bottles and towels in his hand.

"I don't think we'll be needing this today, so don't worry yourself over the heap of school supplies I'm giving you." Luigi hands the items to Arya who inspects the items, before walking over and setting them down on a bench. She catches a glimpse of her eyes in the mirror and incredulously realizes that joy is a new, refreshing look on her.

"Thank you." Her back is turned to him when she says this, leading her to miss Luigi's stare. Her top is an open back, allowing him to see the skin beautifully gliding over the muscles that shift as she bends over and moves her arm. Every movement gives rise to said shifts. He tries, but he can't take his eyes off of her hazel and toned back. His eyes snap up in time, realizing what he's doing before he returns a soft you're welcome.

He steps over to the middle of the room before sitting down, ushering for Arya to come over. "Are you okay if we go by real names?" Arya walks over and crosses her legs while facing him. Doubt pangs in her stomach, half of her ready to playfully curse at him for giving her something to think about but she ignores the feelings inside of her. "Of course. I would've said something this entire time if I wasn't okay with it." She sees blush paint his cheeks. He's embarrassed to teach while she's finding it hard to try and learn. "I suppose I'm not the only nervous one here." Arya tilts her head innocently, looking at Luigi with a smile. It catches him off guard as he lets out a nervous laugh. He glances at Arya before answering. "That is true." He nods his head and raises an eyebrow. "Say, ever danced before?" Luigi asks with genuine curiosity.

Arya opens her mouth to answer. It's true because she has but not in the way he was thinking. She remembers on one and only one mission where she had to go undercover with Bastion. It was in a strip club…

It's going where you think it is.

Arya's mind was blown when she was told she had to go undercover as a literal stripper, but it was a bit easier since she was given the choice of song and dance. It was an easy task to rewatch the countless videos she chose, coming up with her own routine. There was no intimacy involved, rather, it was just her and the seduction she could muster up to exude from her twisting body. It's a memory that makes her laugh more than blush since she remembers having to whisper into Bastion's ear to play along and use him as bait to make their target jealous. Her legs had dipped over the stage, spotlight following her as she gave Bastion a lap dance. Bastion had half the mind to play along but the entire time, she could feel the absolute panic running through his system knowing he was the farthest thing from straight. She remembers having to lean into his ear and tell him to pretend like he was interested in fucking her, reminding him to think of Locutor in her place, which seemed to do the trick. Safe to say everyone but Locutor knew and Bastion got a bag of cackles thrown at him from Myriad and Gemini.

Arya realizes she's distracted before blurting out a "yes!"

Luigi raises his eyebrows before leaning in further, his interest piqued. "Really?" Luigi asks and Arya nods, realizing she doesn't want to hear the next question coming out of his mouth.

So she…answers it instead?

"I had to go undercover as a stripper." Arya slaps her hand over her mouth before Luigi's jaw drops, making her think his jawbone might detach. "What?" She swears a flicker of desire streaks across his eyes before getting replaced with shock. "Y-Yeah." Arya suddenly regrets everything and questions why she didn't lie.

Arya gulps. She hates to face it but some part of her was growing increasingly comfortable with Luigi, despite every distrusting instinct in her. Perhaps, part of her wanted to be vulnerable too.

Luigi wanted to ask her to dance for him, not realizing she'd tell him that stripping was her experience. He swallows hard. Should he ask? I mean, in this situation, it would actually be for educational purposes. The phrase wouldn't be used in vain so he tries his luck.

"W-Would you want to show me? You don't have to I swear it's just a matter of trying to let yourself be," Luigi visibly shakes before snapping his fingers, trying to find the right word. "Comfortable?" He royally fucks up and asks Arya like he's dying to see her routine (which he is but he can't actually reveal that can he?).

Arya blinks hard. At some point she'd have to get comfortable if she was going to conquer this mission. She could say no and move on, keeping close to her comfort but since this didn't involve any form of touching, it didn't seem like an unreasonable ask from his part. She remembers having to choregraph it and having no trouble performing on the stage, finding her own comfort and protecting her own dignity by her own means. Arya knows that as soon as someone having touch her and that too for an extended period of time is involved, she bows out.

"Sure." Arya turns to look around the room and there it is. A pole.

Something feels elementary about it. It's just a pole, a stick of steel that you dance around. Her mind flashes back to the countless times she had practiced the routine and suddenly, it doesn't seem so hard. She gets up before realizing she needs to change into tighter, more fluid clothing. Her top is fine but-

"I need to - uh - change?" Arya hesitates. Luigi is still reeling at the fact that she said yes, staring at her before fumbling and jumping to his feet. "I will be outside. Please just give me a nice, big holler." Luigi scurries out of the room, slapping himself the moment he steps outside to just calm the fuck down and relax. He was here to teach her, not fall in love. He bites his tongue, grounding himself.

Arya, meanwhile, slides her sweatpants off. It's habitual for her to wear her favorite high rise shorts, 3" inseam in a devastatingly navy blue shade, underneath any sweatpants she dons. She's got every color under the sun but she went with this color to compliment her baby blue top for today. She folds her sweatpants neatly, placing them on the bench. She struts over to the pole, letting her hands get habituated to the cool steel again, feelings the structure after almost a year. She had this mission a little over six months ago, but the routine was still fresh in her mind. She takes her shoes off, letting the socks cover her feet as she picks up a light jog. Her footsteps patter as she leans out of the door and Luigi is sitting down by the door.

"Hey. You can come in." Luigi, whose head was turned away from the door, whips around and smiles nervously. "You sure?" He's slowly getting up, feeling better once Arya nods. He watches her walk inside, taking note of the navy blue shorts she had on. He curses himself, unable to stop watching her fluid steps and carved body getting closer to the pole on the opposite side of the room. By habit, he places his hand on the door before freezing.

"Can I close the door? I can keep it open if you feel a-"

"Of course." Arya doesn't let him finish his question. He's being considerate, but the more doubt that gets seeded in her mind, the more it slows her down. Her mind is quiet as she watches Luigi pull out the controls for the speakers in the room. "Song?" Arya is hugging the pole, waiting for Luigi before remembering she can't dance without the song. She pauses before walking voer and scrolling through to search for the song. Luigi takes a few steps back before sitting on the floor again, in perfect vision of the pole.

"Arya, just remember that anytime you want to stop, just stop." Luigi is biting the inside of his lips, nervous she might have a breakdown. Arya looks over, smiling as she chooses the song and explains herself.

She sits down in front of him before talking.

"I don't mind doing this dance because I had learned and performed this myself. I choregraphed it start to end and since it doesn't really involve someone else touching me-" Arya is worried she's oversharing, but the focus Luigi places on her reassures her otherwise. "I'm okay with it. If someone else had to be involved, then I'd be in a different situation. I'm okay." Arya hesitates, but extends her hand, hoping he'd take it so he'd understand that she really was okay. Luigi looks, before holding her arm with care. She gives it a squeeze before getting up to hit play and running over to start.

Luigi holds his breath. He has no idea what to expect.

(song of choice: lana del rey - groupie love. i also found a pole routine that matches if you want to skip/follow along because i wrote this entire next section analyzing this person's routine- search up hedwig shackle's dirty diana performance for the 2021 elite provocateur elite!!)

Arya straightens out her body, chin tilted upwards ever-so slightly. She struts over, circling around before placing her right arm on the pole, spinning herself once. She runs her hands from her abdomen up to her chest in a painfully seductive motion.

Her right arm again grabs the pole, having it slightly twist before she pushes her hips up and back, letting her left arm trail from her thighs up to her lower back. Her hips push back up before her body twirls around, legs splitting open to swing to the right before letting her body is afloat in the air.

She delicately places her feet on the ground before continuing. It had only been a few second, but Luigi is already captivated, taking notice of her bones protruding near the dip from her stomach into her legs, all while appreciating the fluidity of her movement.

She sinks to the ground, right arm still grasping the pole as her left arm supports the weight, bending her left knee before opening her right leg up and to her side wide before repeating and folding over herself.

Her her backside faces Luigi as she gracefully draws a circle with the opposite leg to propel herself up and spin around again. Both arms grasp the pole now, as she eyes Luigi directly. Her left arm gives a slap on her skin before grasping the pole and twisting around to the front and expertly arching her back down so far, her face touches the ground.

Her stomach and legs come down to touch the floor for a fleeting second. In no time, she throws her head back and lifts herself up with a leg extending itself back and outwards before sitting on her hind legs, her body suavely gliding onto the floor as she pushes herself forward and up, yet again.

She twists around on her knees before her right arm is gripping the pole, right leg drawing a perfect circle as her body pushes back a few more inches with ease. Her left leg bends inward as her right extends, pulling her body up and across the distance between her torso and the steel, impossible strength keeping her in the air and moving through it. Her chest heaves and slides itself onto the pole before she's lunging and throwing her head back, moving her body around to stand and letting her neck fall back.

Her curves move with ease, showing off her toned, smooth muscles before dropping right onto her knees to kneel for a fraction of a second before balancing the opening of her legs on her back, curved to accommodate for the weight of her decision. She pulls her leg back, twisting around to now lay on her stomach behind the pole. Her ministrations and moves continue, drawing Luigi in every second at a time.

Luigi doesn't know what to think, but he does know he's going to lose his mind after this is all over. She moved like her entire body was sown with the finest silk, smooth and bending to the will of the music. The music seemed to wrap around her figure, pushing and pulling at her skin and limbs where it was appropriate. He watched her, fighting against the heat of her unknowing stares when they locked eyes. Her face contorted at just the right times, following the dips and sighs that were in the background of the song. Her back arched the perfect amount while her stability in the air kept drawing words away and away from his mind. She was a painting that could move, beautifully capturing the urgency of the second, sharply twisting around or throwing her head back before gently contouring her figure to the sensuality the music demanded of her.

The song ends with her halfway up the pole with her tipped back, neck and some of her chest exposed as her hair fell back, lightly swinging from her dance. Her eyes met with his before she twists around the steel to safely glide and land on the floor. Her knees bend, lower back arches and sticking out as she returns to a normal position, scooting closer to the pole to rest her head. She's out of breath having attempted this routine after a while which was worse since she was barely getting sleep nowadays.

"So," Arya watches a silently pondering Luigi, "what do you think Luigi? Can I do this?" Arya's shame creeps up as she folds her legs up and hugs herself, taking the support of the steel beside her. Luigi's eyes flicker up to look at her, trying to find the words that could even express half of the vulnerability, sensuality, and absolute magic he just watched.

Luigi pushes himself onto his feet, stopping the automatic playlists that were filling the room with noise again. He looks over at Arya, silently asking for permission and she nods before stretching her legs out and supporting herself with both hands behind her shoulders. Luigi walks over and reaches his arm out. Arya's eyebrows jump before she grabs his arm and stands up. He looks down into her eyes before talking.

"Arya, you have no idea how beautiful that was." His eyes are looking back and forth between both sides of her face before he turns his head to the side, seemingly trying to stop the words he wants to say next. But her performance was so intellectually and emotionally stimulating that he can't stop himself from rambling.

"You were so in tune with the music, like you embodied and danced its essence. God, have you ever seen yourself in the mirror?" He runs a hand through his hair before stepping back and turning around, groaning and bending down to express frustration at Arya's blank expression. He turns around and scoffs, seeing Arya's amused smile. "Arya that was- Arya I've never seen anyone dance like that. You became that song. You absolutely drank the seduction of the song and painted it in front of me and I-" Arya had slowly walked closer to him, hands crossed with a face of wonder. She's slowly listening to every word and inflection in his voice, paying attention to how his arms flexed or relaxed when he emphasized certain points. She couldn't take her eyes off of the passion she was seeing, hearing, feeling - feeling in her pulse. His words were like a poem she was destined to listen to.

Luigi was still rambling before turning to address Arya directly.

"All I need you to do is trust me." Luigi stares, pleading with her at this point. He wanted to feel her, twist and dip her, but more than that, he wanted her trust. He saw something breathtaking in her and knowing she might trust him with that felt like someone was handing him a diamond.

Arya stares, repeating his words in his head.

All I need to do his is trust him.

All I need to do his is trust him.

All I need to do his is trust him.

She chanted it in her mind, nodding unknowingly as she stepped closer, dually aware of the pushback her own conscience was giving her.

How can you trust him?

Why would he trust you?

How could you let him?

She looks into his eyes. His eyes were drenched in truth and desperation, a vulnerability he was showing in exchange for her to just say the words.

Yes, Luigi, I trust you.

That's all she had to say. He was waiting, letting his emotions paint his eyes. Displaying an inner curiosity and desire to care for her. It was beautiful. Raw. Colorful.

Musical, even, if she translated the butterflies she felt in her stomach into sounds. The voices were getting louder but in front of him, it seemed like nothing mattered.

In front of his honesty, not a single lie could stand in their way.

"It will be slow, Luigi, but-" Arya pauses, realizing she's promising something that would change everything about her.

"I will trust you." Arya breathes it out with confidence, swaying on her feet lightly as her heart beat out of her chest. Luigi's eyes brightened as he took a step closer and whispered, staring down into her eyes, neck strained.

"Arya," he spoke into her soul, trying to placate the residual concerns she had, "are you sure? I want you to be happy. I want you to feel like you can be yourself around me." Luigi tests the waters, resting a hand on her shoulder. She can feel his hand trembling but she looks at him with unwavering confidence, making no effort to push him away. His shoulders relax upon realization. "I want to be your friend. I want to be emotional with you. I want to break the single rule that has kept you trapped your entire life. Please." Arya's eyes fall, pained at how genuinely he uttered the words and tried to navigate her fragile, tearing walls. He wanted to break a rule. She remembers the phoenix hairpin she wore before her grandmother's words resounded in her ears.

Rules are only rules until you decide to break them. Follow wisely.

Luigi was trying to be careful in slipping through the growing cracks, trying not to let himself create a scar that would make the rock rebound and harden itself again. There was discipline in his love. Arya steps even closer, their faces inches away as they were before, staring. Arya shakily takes her hand and places his free arm upon her waist. His cold hands make her neck fall back, bringing her lips even closer to his. She looks up into his eyes, watching his pulse throw itself hastily in a patterned madness against his neck, seen through her peripheral vision.

Luigi's hand slowly moves up and around her back. His fingers splay across the dip in the middle, touching the exposed skin as they both bend in unison. He bends forward as Arya's neck angles and drops back, hair falling to touch the ground as her leg extends. Luigi removes his hand before grabbing her leg from behind her knee, balancing himself on one foot as her body is pliable. His other foot straightens out behind me before he pulls her back up, resting his hands on her hips and allowing his extended leg to fold and support him before he's standing straight and Arya's hands are clasped around his neck.

He wastes no time before slowly turning her around. She removes an arm from one side of his neck, before grabbing her own. She trails behind him, grabbing the front of his throat as the other arm slides down his chest excruciatingly slow. The same arm of his grabs ahold of her fingers, drawing her body forward for which he pulls back. Arya matches the resistance, throwing her body back with an arch, a small curve before he spins her around and places his hand behind her neck, bending her over and down to the side. She looks back into eyes with an equal desire, before she pushes herself up, both hands on her sides as Luigi lets go.

"You're perfect." Luigi mutters the words before calming his thoughts. "I think you did enough for today." He smiles, holding her forearm and giving it a soft squeeze. Arya places her free arm on top of the one touching hers before reciprocating the action and telling him "I think you did more" and walking away to get a drink. Luigi watches her, letting go of a breath he didn't know he was holding. He feels giddy, absolutely sure that he is stepping into territory he shouldn't.

He's falling in love.

Arya's heart hammers out of her chest as she downs the water, quenching her parched lips. The cool liquid refreshes her throat and being, humming the song quietly to distract herself from the sensation of the moment. She quietly retraced the path his fingers drew while finishing the last few drops. She turns around to see Luigi packing and zipping his bag up before wearing his shoes. She stands quietly, waiting for him to make the next move. Luigi lets out a sigh after he's finishing organizing his items, looking back to see Arya.

"You're free to go. Thanks for today." Luigi walks over and smiles. Arya nods: "Of course. What time tomorrow?" She watches him think, but notices a small dip in shoulders, showing disappointment. She doesn't quite know where it's coming from, but she knew it was there. "How about we do it in the morning? That way I can get out of your way quicker." Luigi proposes this but Arya's eyebrows furrow. "You're not in my way Luigi. Same time tomorrow then." Arya makes the final decision before walking away with the water and sweatpants. She walks and exits the door before taking a few steps back. Luigi is still halfway across the room, making his way to the door before stopping to see what Arya has to say.

"Hey?" He asks confused. Arya smiles before twiddling her thumbs, hesitant but eventually telling him, "You should come over again."

She walks away, leaving Luigi both dumbfounded and ecstatic.

~

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this is a slowburn romance/adventure and eventual smut fic. stick around <3

@poohkie90 @madkohi

[thatsladyfaggottoyou]

Unfinished Snippet

Here's a bit of a piece that probably won't ever get finished since we've grown the characters so much since then, but I'd be sad if no-one ever got to read some of the really good bits.

Leaning into James's touch, Madeleine snorted. "I trust him like I trust the Moon," she said. "If it chooses to come crashing down, what possible defense do I have? I must simply trust its orbit and not concern myself with whether it can be swayed to come or go." Still, after a moment, she sighed and turned and buried her face in the curve of his neck. "Did you wish magic was real as a child? I... don't know that I did. I worried if it was that it would just be another thing we could hurt each other with. I didn't imagine the magic would have a say in how it was used." James wrapped his arms around her again, rubbing at her back as he held her close. "I remember entertaining ideas of magic when I was younger." That wasn't a lie, he did have a vivid imagination, even if it was stifled when he was still young. "And then the real word hit me a little too hard. Maybe that's why I'm still trying to fully wrap my head around what is happening right now. And maybe I will never truly get it." He paused and let his gaze fall over the baths for a moment, squinting through the steam as if he was searching for someone standing close by. "I just know that whatever this all is, wants us to be well. And for right now I'm going to take what I can get." "How strange is it, now, to think the real world has been this, too, all along?" Madeleine asked, and followed his gaze into the steam. It had taken a while for her to piece together when she'd first arrived. First, she'd thought perhaps magic cared more for intention than immediate action: if he wanted her to be comfortable, the place they were would make her comfortable. Slowly, though, that certainty eroded and realization dawned in its place. She dipped down into the water a moment, letting it cover her wholly to rid herself of the last of the soap before pulling herself up to sit on the edge of the pool, her legs still covered in the warm of the water. "You're wondering how he knows to move where things were left, to lift or drop the water, to warm the room, aren't you?" "It's a question that makes my mind go a bit muddy, honestly." James easily spoke the truth here, with her. He didn't even struggle to try to keep it in, it was just a second nature kind of thing. He turned his gaze to her and nodded, before slipping down into the water and do the same. When he put himself next to Madeleine again, he made sure to keep very close. There was only so much more time he had with her. "It has crossed my mind, maybe it's just a sense he has. Being Destiny and all. Like he has seen all of this happening, before." And even in the midst of the steam and soft lighting of the bath area, she would notice a touch of color on his cheeks.

The blush on his face brought a wide smile to her own, and Madeleine giggled as she kissed his cheek. "Has this only just occurred to you?" She teased, and when she reached to her side the bottles of juice and little snacks settled there were closer than they had been before they'd bathed. She popped open a jug of pomegranate juice and took a long sip before offering it to James. "What if it was stranger than that?" Madeleine asked, feet splashing a bit in the water. "What if he knew where we were because he was here, too? Not shaped as a man, but as a room. As a temple. As water and steam and air. Shaped as bottles and juice and... It is an impossibly strange sensation to think every stone of this place is not stone, but Destiny made to form. And then stranger, still, to think it changes to our comfort." James took the bottle from Madeleine and nearly choked on the sip he took as he listened to what she said. His gaze drifted to the bottle, and he stared at it with a baffled expression. For a moment a touch of the color that was in James' face faded to pale. They were in Destiny. "Well..." he started in a low almost whispered tone. "This brings a new meaning to the idea of strange doesn't it." "I feel like I'm right at the brink of understanding something," Madeleine admitted, and furrowed her brow in frustration. "He said--he said there was a library that his brother had, but it's not available because his brother is--and these are his own words--stuck in a trap of his own making. He said every book I could ever hope to find, every explanation I could ever need, would be there, but..." She sighed, at last drawing her feet from the water to rest her head atop her knees. "I am grateful that I can air this to you, at least. I do not think any of them can understand how impossible it all feels from the outside. Will you walk with me back to my rooms, and will you lie by me until you must go?" "In a trap of his own making? Goodness, that sounds dramatic." James laughed lightly, and turned to look at Madeleine, placing a hand gently on her back. "No I don't suppose they can really understand things from our side, can they?"

Standing up slowly, James stepped out of the pool, offering a hand for Madeleine to help her up. There was a low, amused snort when he looked to see warm towels and robes waiting for them in a large basket near where he stood that had not, when they’d entered, been present. "I'd like to lie with you until I have to leave. I...I'm not sure when I will see you again." Madeleine let James help her up, and let him fuss over drying her off, and stole kisses where she could. "I promise to keep your heart safe until you come back for it, then," she said, and led him to the door which had, before, opened into the hallway. Now, though, she swung it open and on the other side was her own quarters. Destiny had put her somewhere beautiful. The back wall was all glass, overlooking the sprawl of the garden and laced by ivy whose leaves would move to keep the sunlight from overtiring her. There was a sliding glass door that led onto a small balcony where plants languished from the rails, floral and drunk on the delicate breeze he'd learned she liked. The bed was wide and soft, and the furniture in the room was all warm-colored wood and glass and settled with flowers, foxglove and iris and hollyhock, spider lily and Queen Anne's lace. There were tea things in a cabinet, and a kitchenette with a small stove and oven, and even there greenery stretched throughout with herbs spilling over planters along the shelves. She sighed, and looked amused, and turned to James. "I think I see what I like about him, now; he's as bad as you are. I told him not to move the baths for my convenience--I suppose he did not move the baths, then, and thinks himself clever for it."

And, as if in response, the sun's light began to fade in soft sunset to splay colors across the bedroom. James smiled brightly, pulling Madeleine into his arms. He held her with an awed gentleness, as if she was the most rare thing to ever exist. "I'm beginning to like him more as time goes on." It would be the kind of thing James knew he would do if he had such power. He reminded himself to try to talk to Destiny later, to thank him for taking such good care of his love. As the light began to fade, James lead Madeleine over to the bed. He slipped her out of her robe, and helped her lie down. Slipping out of his own, he climbed into the bed beside her, wasting no time in pulling her back into his arms, stealing a soft kiss. "I love you." And as saddened as she was to think that when morning came she would once more be without him, Madeleine moved easy with James, pressing herself into his arms to kiss back sleepily. "I love you, too," she mumbled, and though she fought her best to stay awake and enjoy the way he held her sleep soon stole Madeleine to a dreamless rest--as was all sleep in Destiny's realm. Dreamless, but peaceful.

[rimeiii]

Just watched the gameplay trailer and...

Well, it's a lot like Path to Nowhere. Can't say I'm surprised, considering the unit placement and map layouts from all the trailers we've seen.

(More under the cut because we all know I'm the bitch who's more interested in the gameplay compared to other things-)

Some corrections regarding the symbols:

Angel wings are enemies remaining, paw prints are movement opportunities remaining.

Whatever that last icon is, it's supposed to be is your HP.

Two tilesets is real, but it's only used to indicate pathing.

There doesn't seem to be a distinction between low ground and high ground tiles - it's just the lighter tiles are the enemy paths, and you place units on lighter tiles if you want to block enemies.

The limits of the battlefield are the black picket fences along the edges!

But holy shit some of these abilities sound so fucking broken on paper, but the applications...

Marbas's skill, if handled properly, can act like Bard Supporters in Arknights. However, the healing seems to be very limited, at 1 HP per tick? How would it scale based on skill level and stats? Is 1 HP a lot for friendlies? At least it seems to be an infinite duration skill, so...

Paimon's slow is manual targeting. Personally I'm not a fan, or maybe it's because I think in the realm of tower defense, Suzuran is a slower done right. Or Snow Peas. These sorts of units, in essence, slow enemies down so our units can burst them down easily. Which might be uh...let's just say, underutilized based on the DPS options we have down the line.

At this point, Paimon seems to play a lot like May, and even then May is more effective in slowing down enemies with her first skill.

Anyways, what in the fuck is going on here?

That 'Miss' in blue text. Is that a damage instance miss, an ailment miss, or something else? If it's a damage instance miss (which is what I think it is) then mygod I think I'm actually going to rage while playing this game. That is, unless it's due to a unit's passive - then for my own sanity I won't be using them, ever. Because hey, fellow Arknights players, remember these fuckers?

Yeah. Silence and freeze came in clutch, honestly. There's a reason why a lot of players would rather not deal with dodge enemies and just want to nuke them out of existence with true damage and status effects. Though to be fair it's the Nethersea Brand that makes Stultifera Navis a hard event/Intermezzi...

ANYWAYS! The next skill I'll be looking at is Eligos's skill.

That's a unique skill, honestly! Mechanically, it's most similar to Mlynar's second talent, which gives him innate Taunt (makes enemy ranged attacks target him when he's in their range) - except Mlynar is Broken Like That and has damage reflect while maintaining that the Talent is always active, all with respectable defenses and a sizable HP pool. Like Mlynar, depending on how much damage the enemy does on average and how strong Eligos's shield is, the skill can easily turn into a double-edged sword, however - in a much more dangerous way compared to Mlynar.

Think of it this way. It doesn't seem like WHB has a redeployment mechanic, as a similar "style" of tower defense with Path to Nowhere. Which means, if an ally is dead, then they stay dead for the entirety of the stage.

Compare that with Arknights, which allows retreating and redeployment.

Losing Texas the Omertosa on the battlefield wouldn't matter as much as losing Eligos, because I know I can still use Texas down the line. Plus, the Executor subclass is built around redeployment, making that mechanic necessary to use her properly. Same thing with me retreating Chen - her positioning wasn't the most optimal after clearing the treasure chest, and if the stage went on any longer I'd redeploy her in a more strategic position/direction. But I know this stage's mobs aren't particularly tanky, and Mountain with Sweeping Stance (S2) would be more than enough to hold that lane, with his 2-block + DPS + self-sustain.

These are the words of a chronic IS player.

Meanwhile, if I lost Eligos, then I'd lose a valuable blocker unit. He's a defender in WHB, and he definitely has more tanking capabilities. But that means you'll have to consider adding either a healer to keep him healed up or more DPS to kill off enemies before you lose said defender to continuous attacks.

The final three skills shown in the trailer all fall under the same category: burst damage over an area.

This is where I can say slowers might eventually be underutilized in WHB on launch. They work the best with consistent, large damage sources over a period of time. What do I mean by that? Well, let's take a look at Suzuran - specifically, her second passive.

Suzuran, in my opinion, reflects the most effective way a slower is used in tower defense. Not only does she slow enemies down, she inflicts them with a debuff that makes them take more damage (Fragile). This effect is doubled with her third skill Foxfire Haze, where she stops attacking - but her slow turns into an area of effect deal, heals allies, and has an increased range. She is oftentimes used in conjunction with damage dealers and an extra debuffer (optional, but typically Saria S3) with steady burst damage over a set period of time - SilverAsh, Surtr, Mlynar, Eyjafjalla, Mostima, and Exusiai, just to name a few.

Granted, she is a 6* unit (L rarity in WHB terms would likely be the closest approximation), but even then other Decel Binders (slowers like Suzuran) without the debuff application still has the 80% Slow on all enemies they attack, and has ways to increase their slowing and damage capabilities.

It's hard to see with how the battle is presented, but if Paimon's slow is only on skill proc, then him in conjunction with these DPS options would be the equivalent of using Decel Binders with Chiave/Pinecone - which isn't bad per se (unless you managed to stack charges - then it becomes good) but less effective compared to using, say, Pozëmka/Schwarz. And let's not forget that some of these characters have huge attack ranges (Satan and Gabriel specifically) - making the entire point of slowers more or less moot.

Also, it would seem that skills may inflict status ailments! Stun seems to work like in Arknights (enemy stops attacking and moving for a set period of time), but Bleed I will assume is a damage over time deal. Kinda like Blue Poison and Thorns's passives.

The final and arguably biggest gripe I have with what I see in the trailer, though?

Little to no potential for AFK gaming- //SHOT

[melancholycatastrophe]

Only Friends Ep. 5 Thoughts

spoilers

not even two minutes in and someone is trying to kill ray, its not looking good out here

nick interrupting the raysand handjob is so wild because sandnick knows that top cheated on mew and they know mew and ray are friends and theyre just not gonna say anything to ray, thats crazy

the raysand and topmew dates are so cute i just know this isn't gonna last

sidenote: that wasn't actually topmew being cute, it was forcebook. the only way i can keep myself sane is by pretending its just forcebook

sand dressed the way i want to dress im going insane he's my favorite kind of boy: guitar player, rock and indie fan, leather jackets, anger issues, homoerotic tension with men - if ray doesn't want him I'll keep him

NOOOO MEW NOT THE GLASSES

top fixing mew's glasses 😭 he's too fine to be such a scumbag

mew's prescription is -5.00, he's just like me fr

am i tripping or is mew now hyperaware of every time top talks to another man because he thinks that they're all ex-hookups or top might hook up with them after? like what was that look when the server gave top the bill?

IS THIS BITCH--? IS NICK CHANGING THE WAY HE DRESSES AND GOING TO THE GYM IN ORDER TO LOOK MORE LIKE TOP AND GET BOSTON'S ATTENTION????? BOY STAND UP PLEASE DONT BE LIKE TOP PLEASE

bostonnick in the pool just reminded me of that one kinnporsche pool scene im sorry i was hoping they would have sex in the pool

also -- diversity win! the lying backstabbing guy who is playing with your feelings and ruining his friendgroup believes in safe sex!

another thing that intrigues me: does boston even like his friends? cuz we've seen all four of them together and having fun, and they look to get along well if you ignore everything happening in the background, but individually? has boston hung out with or just simply had a normal convo with anyone? mew has with ray and cheum, and im starting to believe that boston hates mew for something that happened in the past or is really jealous, but does he hang out ray and cheum just one on one? because at this point it feels like the only person boston talks to is nick, which is.... idk I'm just so curious as to how the raymewbostoncheum friend group came to be

also the fact that he's not even interested in the hostel. the only people we've seen truly working on it are mew and cheum, mew possibly because if it fails he loses his place as top student, idk why but cheum is a business major so she probably has some vested interest in this project. i'm assuming ray is a buisness major because of his dad and even tho it's technically his project - as boston points out - i doubt he wants to work in that field

"I don't want to sleep around anymore. I want to have sex with someone I can talk to and be affectionate with" boston the word you are looking for is boyfriend. you want a boyfriend, and nick is right there (for some reason)

instead of being called only friends, this show should be called "getting cockblocked by all your friends" because this is getting ridiculous. first raysand, then raysand again, then bostonnick, and then raysand again

the way mew wants his friends to be in serious relationships is soo......cute, but also funny that he's over here rooting for his friends meanwhile he keeps top in a situationship like bestie look in the mirror

also i will chew on concrete if boston only dislikes mew because of top oh my god its never that serious over dick

ray please stop talking to that girl omg summer is too pretty to be involved in whatever the fuck you and your friends have going on, give her to me

that concert scene makes me miss brightwin idk

atp I'm gonna assume that every guy who looks at top has fucked him unless proven otherwise cuz this is getting ridiculous

ah fuck....mew has fallen for top..... but anyway this confirms mew is probs demiromantic and demisexual

not the debt collectors 😭 is it really a rich x poor storyline if there's no debt collectors?

sand's mom owns....the go go club....i'm.....oh my god thats why he was there in episode like 2

ray singing sand a love song for his birthday oh be still my beating heart

not mew calling boston to tell him that he's ready to have sex with top 😭 bestie i get that he's your friend with the most sexual experience and you dont want to tell ray cuz he had feelings for you but oh my god why did you tell ton??????

but also "I'm afraid if I don't have sex with Top he'll get bored of me" after seeing so many people check out Top that day.....Mew is finally at a point where he has romantic feelings for Top and its probably for the first time ever and he doesn't want to let him go so he'll have sex with him, he's so real honestly I relate to him a stupid amount

also...okay wait....so is the friendship between bostonmew one-sided or is top truly the reason why their friendship will crumble in the future? cuz mew calls boston about top for reassurance and boston reassures him for some reason....

out of context topmew is cute.....oh their break up is gonna be awful

their first time having sex was so sweet and tender but i know damn well this wont last

ray and his mommy issues back at it again

sand distracting ray from drinking more by sharing personal details about his life....oh......oh....

sand was named after the place his mom and dad had sex oh my god....

ray's mom 🤝 ray

suicidal and alcohol addicts

"Only Cockblocked By Your Friends" the series strikes again!!!

it just hit me that they're eating weed cookies.....

also... "sand, this isnt your usual stuff?" does this mean sand sold ton drugs before or....?

ray keeps saying he and sand aren't dating and its breaking both mine and sand's heart

bostonnick and raysand drinking and partying together doesnt sit right in my heart....somehow someone is gonna say something bad while high

"even if you really like ray, i doubt it would work out between you two" whelp there it is

boston for the love of god shut the fuck up so we can have happy raysand and topmew please stop telling everyone and their mother that ray is in love with mew so that he can move on oh my god please its only episode 5 i need some happy moments between the two couples a little longer please

why is ton airing out all of ray's dirty laundry why is he doing the things that he does he's so messy i love it

well......ray and boston are probably not friends anymore

boston is too fine to be acting like this

now that I'm thinking about it....were boston and ray ever friends or were they just in the same friend group? cuz back in like episode one he was the one who was supposed to take care of ray when he was drunk and didn't so, like....

that last scene with sandray is sad and all but I'm too distracted over the fact that they're sleeping without blankets covering them

WAS THAT RAYMEW FIGHTING IN THE PREVIEW NO I CAN TAKE EVERYTHING BUT RAYMEW FIGHTING STOP DONT DO THIS TO ME

[uwucipher]

Corporate au shenanigans imma put a read more cause it's really loong. But it's basically another chat post this time between huitzilopochtli, horus, xolotl, and anubis! They're all friends sort of.

It's basically goes huitzilopochtli and horus are friends. Anubis and xolotl are friends. Anubis and horus are friends. Therefore, huitzilopochtli and xolotl are friends by association. Also, horus drunkenly came up with the group chat name, and no one has changed it.

Two 🐦 and Two 🐕 walk into a bar

Huitzilopochtli: WHAT DO YOU MEAN CAFÉ DE CIELO IS CLOSED.

Horus:Oh yeah. I saw on their insta that they're putting in new renovations.

Huitzilopochtli:AND YOU DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING?

Xolotl: damn I haven't seen you this distress since you had to work as a guard for Coyolxauhqui's event.

Huitzilopochtli: where else am I going to get atole or aguachiles.

Anubis:There's the place on sixth street.

Huitzilopochtli:they don't have atole de fresa, plus it's 30 minutes from work! I have to leave early, and that's owning Tezcatlipoca favors. 😒

Horus:😔😔😔 true where am I going to get my coffee fix you made me addicted. I use to be a sun God you know. I didn't need coffee. Now you need to fix this actually.

Xolotl: Your mom makes really good aguachiles.

Huitzilopochtli: WE ARE NOT EATING AT MY MOMS. I AM NOT HOSTING YOU GUYS.

Horus:I mean, I think it's only fair. I mean, you were the one raving about the spot. We all started getting our coffees and lunch there. Now where are we getting our food from?

Huitzilopochtli:ANUBIS DOESN'T EVEN EAT THERE

Anubis: But I could??

Xolotl: We've shared lunches before. Technically, he's eaten before.

Huitzilopochtli: ...ugh. WHATEVER. I got my lunch from the gas station. It really feels like when I first started out.

Horus: damn.

Anubis:you know what could fix that

Xolotl: and taste good

Huitzilopochtli: horus, I hope someone throws you out a window, and anubis and xolotl, I hope one of the people you're embalming wakes up.

Xolotl: jokes on you I'm not with anubis today I'm with Chang'e so ha!

Huitzilopochtli: Whatever, get poisoning from whatever you're making. I hope your eyes fall out.

Xolotl: :( You're so mean. I'm going to text your mom so she can make aguachiles for everyone but you.

Huitzilopochtli: I'm this close to snapping 👌

Anubis: What not having daily strawberry atole does to a man

Horus: 💀 I checked their insta, and they're going to be closed for like a month.

Huitzilopochtli: The universe is conspiring against me and my happiness.

Anubis: there is an easy solution for this.

Horus: you know what you could do.

Xolotl: all you have to do is ask her.

Huitzilopochtli: OH MY GOD FINE. I WILL ASK MY MOM TO MAKE SOME AUGACHILES.

Xolotl:I'll host since I'm the only one with a pool, and I'll think I'll die in this heat.

Huitzilopochtli:nepo baby

Xolotl:First of all, it's not my fault. I'm friends with one of the ceos, and I just get better jobs sometimes and two as if you could talk???

Huitzilopochtli: Whatever 🙄.

Anubis: I call shotgun on Macaroni Bechamel.

Horus: fuck. >:( Whatever! I already know whose recipe you're using. I'll bring Sobia.

Xolotl: 👀👀👀 I would marry you if hathor wouldn't slash my tires. Anubis, my love, you never fail to deliver. ❤️

Anubis: ❤️ Bastet is most likely bringing Om Ali.

Horus: Yeah, yeah. I'll make some for you tomorrow if you come in early.

Huitzilopochtli: I'll make aguachile for bastet tomorrow if she makes Om Ali for me tomorrow.

Anubis:HEY

Huitzilopochtli: WHAT LIKE YOU DON'T SHARE WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND

Anubis:I'M YOUR FRIEND

Huitzilopochtli:ARE YOU MAKING OM ALI?

[pokemedia-text-dump]

Zero Duel

[Video ID: Teraster standing before an Iron Valiant in the large cave of Area Zero. Florian and Cera are sitting between them in the distance, using a sleeping Koraidon as a bench.

"Well, this is a first, isn't it..." Florian muses.

"What is?" Cera asks.

"You know, seeing someone just battle for fun in Area Zero. Like, the one time I saw people fighting, it was because they were streaming an attempt on their lives and wanted to let people know what was happening to them..." he continues.

"Incorrect, Florian. This battle is merely to prove my strength to the Iron Valiant. If I succeed, I will hopefully be able to capture it." Teraster says.

"I mean, it clearly feels safe enough to expend a bunch of its energy on you and your team, right? It wants to fight someone strong, and in the wild, it would normally be painting a big target on its back by focusing on you. So I think it kind of is just because it can." Florian muses.

"He does have a point, for once...Granted, this thing's judgement has obviously been messed up by that battle or something, seeing as how it sees you as strong enough to bother picking a fight with." Cera adds.

"Anyway, your team's all ready, right? Everyone healed up?" Florian asks.

"That is correct. I have sufficiently prepared all of the teammates that I believe will serve me best against the Iron Valiant." Teraster says, nodding.

"Actually, wait a minute...I don't think there are really any wild Pokemon around that would get agitated or drawn in by noise, are there? We've all seen that a good soundtrack can do wonders for your team, so..." Florian says as he pulls out his Rotom Phone. "You want us to play anything?"

"Hah! Don't bother suffering through whatever his lack of taste would be attuned to. I got something better than anything you could pull up!" Cera says.

She pulls out her Rotom Phone and starts scrolling on it: when she releases it into the air, "Hammer of Justice - DELTASTREAM Chapters 3-4" begins playing from it.

"There! I would say that even you can't lose with a backing track like this, but I've been proven wrong on that front before..." she says assertively.

"Ah, that's right, Deltastream did release while we were down here!" Florian says.

"Thank you, Cera." Teraster says, bowing, before turning to the Iron Valiant. "Please prepare yourself. I intend to show you our full strength."

The Iron Valiant pulls out a canister of Booster Energy from inside its "cape", then inserts it into its cannon: the glowing parts of its body begin to pulse with energy, and it ejects the empty canister.

Teraster sends out a Glimmora wearing a Focus Sash on its cone from a Luxury Ball, and the Iron Valiant stares it down.

"Here we go...You got this, Teraster!" Florian says,

"Don't fall on your face too badly." Cera mutters.

"Ningguang, please use Acid Spray." Teraster says.

The Glimmora opens up the orifice on its back, then spews a burst of purple ooze towards the Iron Valiant: it uses its glaive like a pole and spins to dodge the spray with ease. The parts of the attack that missed the Iron Valiant eat into the ground, sizzling, and form small pools.

A leaf-shaped sheath of green energy begins to form around the Iron Valiant's glaive: it charges towards the Glimmora, using its glaive to vault over the acid pools, then strikes it with an overhead slash to slam it into the earth, scattering countless shards of purple crystal along the ground. The Glimmora's Focus Sash glows white and dissolves as it feebly floats back up.

"Please use Power Gem, Ningguang." Teraster says.

The Glimmora turns its back to the Iron Valiant again and opens the orifice there, producing four orbs of red energy. The orbs detonate into small beams, but the Iron Valiant knocks them away with its glaive one by one. It swats one of the beams back at the Glimmora, knocking it out of the air as it falls unconscious on the ground.

Teraster recalls the Glimmora and sends out a Reuniclus with a Life Orb tied around its cell membrane.

"Moss, please use Shadow Ball." Teraster says.

The Reuniclus holds its hands up, forming an orb of shadowy energy in between them. It grips the orb in one of its hands, then hurls it at the Iron Valiant. The Iron Valiant, however, slashes the orb with its glaive, sending it towards the Reuniclus again.

"Please counter with Psyshock, Moss." Teraster says.

The Reuniclus covers its hands with a blue energy, forming a pair of gauntlets, then uppercuts the orb of shadowy energy, sending it back at the Iron Valiant. The Iron Valiant slashes the orb with its glaive, swatting it back towards the Reuniclus. This continues several times until the Iron Valiant dodges with a spinning sidestep, causing the attack to burst into a shadowy explosion when it touches the ground behind it.

The Iron Valiant vaults into the air with its glaive, then crashes down onto the Reuniclus, assaulting it with a flurry of slashes from every direction. The Reuniclus goes flying, bouncing once on the ground before slowly levitating back up.

"What the...It never pulled any stunts like this when it fought us! It really is going all out..." Cera says, surprised.

"He hasn't even landed a single hit on it...Is it trying to get him to hit it, period?" Florian asks.

Before it can jump back, Teraster throws an Ultra Ball at the Iron Valiant, capturing it: it hardly even shakes before the Iron Valiant breaks out, crushing the ball's halves under its feet triumphantly while making a "come here" gesture with its hand.

"...well, I guess that answers that question." Florian mutters.

"Please use Psyshock this time, Moss." Teraster says after some thought.

The Reuniclus raises its hands up, creating several particles of blue energy, which coagulate into fist-like shapes around its hands. It stretches its arms out, then slams them onto the ground, creating a blue shockwave.

The Iron Valiant backsteps in a flash, but is slightly staggered by the shockwave. After regaining its footing, it jumps up, a leaf-shaped outline of green energy forming along its glaive, then comes back down onto the Reuniclus' outstretched arm. It dashes and drags the glaive along the arm, slicing it as it runs, before reaching the Reuniclus itself. It cleaves the Reuniclus with two slashes in a cross shape, and it collapses into a crumpled blob on the ground, unconscious.

Teraster recalls the Reuniclus into a Luxury Ball and sends out a Greninja from another Luxury Ball.

"Please use Water Shuriken, Kappei." Teraster says.

The Greninja's tongue begins glowing a dark blue as it scoops up a shuriken made out of water from the patterns on its thighs: in one swift motion, it fans the "single" shuriken out into four, then tosses them towards the Iron Valiant. The shuriken arc out, then curve towards the Iron Valiant, but it swats them back all at once with its glaive. The Greninja slaps the shuriken away with its tongue, sending them flying back towards the Iron Valiant. This continues for a few rounds until the Iron Valiant digs its glaive into the ground, using it like a pole to swing out of the attack's path.

The Iron Valiant's glaive generates a leaf-shaped outline of green energy, and it dashes towards the Greninja. It sidesteps left and right around the acidic puddles on the ground, then sends the Greninja skyward with an uppercut from its glaive. It jumps up to follow the Greninja, then catches it on one of the glaive's blades before slamming it onto the ground. The Greninja struggles to get up, but ultimately falls unconscious.

Teraster recalls the Greninja into a Luxury Ball, then releases a Weavile from another Luxury Ball.

"Hookula, please use Triple Axel." Teraster says.

The Weavile jumps up and lunges towards the Iron Valiant, its claws and feet glowing white, as the Iron Valiant disassembles its glaive in anticipation. The Weavile attempts to slash the Iron Valiant with its claws, but it instantaneously sidesteps at the last second, leaving the Weavile to skid against the ground.

Before the Weavile can even stand back up, the Iron Valiant sends it flying into the air with an uppercut from the back. It jumps up to follow the airborne Weavile, then spikes it back into the ground with its armblades. Upon landing, it punches and slashes the Weavile from every angle, zipping around it at an almost imperceptible speed. It finally smashes the Weavile with a devastating haymaker, sending it crashing into one of the cave walls.

As soon as the Iron Valiant turns around to punch the Weavile, Teraster throws a Timer Ball at its back, capturing it: it shakes once before the Iron Valiant breaks loose. It crushes the ball's shards under its foot, sweeping them aside with its glaive, then plants the glaive on the ground in defiance.

"Ouch...I don't even know how you're supposed to fight against something like that." Florian says, wincing. "...I still got faith in Teraster, though!"

"Good for you. But he's still getting mopped up by this thing...You can feel free to admit I was right any time now, by the way. Cera says.

Teraster recalls the Weavile into a Luxury Ball, then sends out a shiny Metagross from another Luxury Ball.

"Axis, please use Psychic Fangs." Teraster says.

The Metagross slowly levitates up, the underside of its body glowing a dark pink, then angles itself and hurtles towards the Iron Valiant. The Iron Valiant touches its glaive to its cannon, coating it in a pink energy, then slashes the Metagross right before impact. The Metagross is knocked into the air by a sparkling pink explosion from the glaive, but tries to come down on the Iron Valiant once again. This continues several times until the Metagross is knocked away a considerable distance, landing on its feet.

"Please use Earthquake, Axis." Teraster says.

The Metagross rears up on its hind legs and slams the ground, generating several shockwaves: the Iron Valiant uses its glaive almost like a pogo stick, pushing it into the ground and jumping over each one. As soon as it lands, it puts one end of its glaive in its cannon, coating it with a pink energy, then slashes in an upward arc, producing a crescent-shaped energy wave that detonates on contact with the Metagross. The force of the explosion flips it onto its back, and the Iron Valiant lunges, assailing the Metagross with a flurry of slashes from countless angles. The Metagross spins on its back from the force of the attacks, its legs going limp as it falls unconscious.

Teraster recalls the Metagross into a Luxury Ball, then sends out a Porygon-Z with an Expert Belt tied around its horn.

He pulls out a Tera Orb, then holds it up, his body spasming as energy surges into it. A sheath of Tera Crystals grows over his arm, and he throws the Tera Orb over the Porygon-Z, Terastalizing it into a Normal-type.

"Junkil, pl3ase u5e Thunderb0lt." Teraster says.

An orb of electricity begins building up on the Porygon-Z's horn, before firing as an arc of crackling lightning. The Iron Valiant tosses its glaive into the bolt of electricity, causing it to latch onto the glaive, and the force of the attack breaks it back into two individual blades.

The Iron Valiant catches the components of its glaive, attaching them to its hands as blades while they fall. As soon as its armblades are reassembled, it jumps above the Porygon-Z. It slams its hands down blade-first, bashing it into the ground and causing it to bounce. On the rebound, it uppercuts the Porygon-Z into the air, then jumps up to follow it. The Porygon-Z is bombarded with a flurry of punches and slashes from all over.

As the Porygon-Z crashes to the ground, the Iron Valiant raises up its fist as its armblades glow white, preparing to land one final blow, but jumps back to its side of the battlefield in an instant, bowing to Teraster. The Porygon-Z shudders as it unsteadily begins to float back up.

"Okay, it has to be intentionally messing with him at this point. If you're going to wipe the floor with him, can you at least stop dragging it when we know you've already won?!" Cera complains.

Teraster looks down for a moment, thinking.

"I kn0w...wh4t we mu5t do. Junk1l..." Teraster says, as he and the Porygon-Z look at each other.

"...pl3ase us3 1ce Beam."

The Porygon-Z charges up an orb of icy energy from its tail. It erupts into a beam of light blue energy, which grazes the top of the Iron Valiant's head as it goes past it: the Iron Valiant turns around to look at the missed attack.

As soon as the Iron Valiant turns away, the Porygon-Z folds its tail and limbs in front of its body, charging up a large orb of orange energy. The orb explodes into a brilliant orange beam hurtling directly towards the Iron Valiant. The Iron Valiant turns back around: its pupils shrink in surprise before getting blasted by the beam. The Porygon-Z collapses as soon as it finishes firing: when the beam dissipates, the Iron Valiant is sprawled out on the ground. It slowly begins propping itself up with its glaive.

As soon as Teraster spots the Iron Valiant, he throws a Luxury Ball at it. The Luxury Ball nails the Iron Valiant squarely on the head, capturing it before dropping down to the ground. Everyone crowds around as it rocks back and forth: once...twice...thrice...

After a short delay, the Luxury Ball clicks to indicate a successful capture. Teraster puts the Tera Orb back in his Bag, and the Tera Crystals on both his arm and the Porygon-Z dissipate.

"There you GO! Never had a doubt. That thing you did to trick it with Ice Beam was really impressive, man...High five!" Florian cheers, high fiving Teraster.

"...Huh. You actually managed to beat it, even with all of the insanity it was pulling on you...You might have gotten wiped pretty hard, but I guess you didn't do horribly." Cera concedes.

"Thank you, Cera. I am grateful that Junkil was able to understand how to outwit the Iron Valiant. It seemed to be focused more on dodging and countering than fighting. ...Perhaps...it allowed itself to be caught after we were able to land a single powerful hit on it." Teraster muses.

"...Of course, it was nothing my superior team couldn't have handled far easier, but I'm merciful enough to let you have this one." she continues.

"Hm...Do you wish to test your skills against it as well? I must let it recover and possibly train it to better fit the rest of my team, so this may take some time." Teraster asks.

"That was implicit, idiot. Do you really think I'd deny myself a good battle by just jumping you and this thing immediately after it trashed you? I can't just flatten you in one go: how else are you going to see how much better I am than you?" Cera says.

"Eh...I still think we should go back to the surface before we do anything. We do still need to report what we did down here..." Florian says.

"I agree. Additionally, I wish to further inspect the Iron Valiant at a Pokemon Center after healing it." Teraster adds.

Teraster walks towards Florian and Cera, the camera following him, and climbs onto the Koraidon. He grabs the camera and the video cuts out.]