#i played for like 10 minutes. lost. and then stopped for a few hours. came back. beat him. and stopped

[absolutelyzoned]

i cant wait to fight v2 again...,, hhrrmnnhghghghhjhh..

[ryiju-muunie]

Chocolate roses

18+ viewer discretion advised

fem!reader/toji fushiguro Warnings: aphrodisiac, divorced Toji, mama-guro POV, make-up sex, creampie, breeding kink, squirting, pussy eating, fingering, doggy style, nipple play, make out, fluff, a bit of angst, the reader is in her thirties and Toji is like forty :/ Word count: 4577 words DESC: Your ex-husband Toji shows up unannounced to surprise your kids after school! At 10 AM! And some things go down when he eats chocolate meant for a bachelorette party and not him.

PSA this is inspired by the lovely I Always Come Back by HXLTIC that I read at 3 AM. This is not proofread although my friend was reading along so we ball ^-^

When Toji Zenin showed up at your door, the first thing you wanted to do was slam it shut in his face. But… the father of your children? You couldn’t bear to do that to him. So instead you heard him out. 

“I wanted to surprise Tsumiki and Megumi when they came home from school,” was all your ex-husband said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. His shirt was black and too tight for his well-built body. That was one thing you missed, but it was too early to think about running your hands up his chest. 

Instead, you turned your head to the side to peer behind him on your porch. It was a sunny day and only 10:03 AM. School typically got out at 2:30 and knowing your kids they’d be doing all sorts of extracurriculars, pushing their arrival home back by another two hours. 

God! Why did he want to come so … early? It would be about four hours of pure torture with the man you once swore you’d devote your life to. But things were different. Your vows were broken on both ends and you weren’t proud to admit it but a lot of the fall of your marriage was your fault. You had decided to go back to work and force your husband to stay home and watch the kids. He didn’t mind he enjoyed spending his mornings watching little Gumi and Miki. 

But then you started coming home later and later, dodging his kisses and calls in favor of making money. You lost sight of your marriage and he left you for it. If you truly admitted to yourself, you missed him. You missed him so much. But how could you tell him that? It had been five years since your divorce and the last thing you could do was call him crying trying to mend it. 

Toji had his walls up and you didn’t blame him. If the roles were reversed you would’ve done the same thing. 

“I don’t know…” You trailed off, looking down at the oversized orange cardigan you had bought at a local shop a few years back, “They won’t be back until the mid-afternoon.” Your voice took an unsure tone and your hands took to mess with the ends of your knitted sweater.

Toji always liked that on you and you could tell he still did. While he had his walls up he didn’t exactly hide his gaze. It slowly trailed up your body but not in a sexual way this time. In more of a familiar way. You hadn’t stopped this long to talk to him in a few years. Every time you’d see each other you were too embarrassed to speak to him for more than a minute. I mean, your failed marriage was your fault, right?

“I think you’ve been avoiding me,” Toji rested one hand on the frame of the door and the other on the door itself, pushing it forward with one strong movement, “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It was almost six years ago, I’m over it.”

Your eyes narrowed. Was it that obvious on your face? Could he just read all the emotions coming off of you? All the shame and regret he didn’t get to see because you were too busy waving him off. 

Without saying anything else your ex-husband pushed past you and plopped himself down on your white couch, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it to the side. He stretched out his legs and arms without looking back at you. Instead, he was focused on the decorations. It had been so many years since he was invited inside. With every year more regret and shame built up in your mind, so you stopped inviting him inside. 

“Yeah just… make yourself at home,” you sighed, walking to pick up his jacket. But then you stopped yourself and let out a breath. If he said he was over it then the least you could do was make it less awkward. Offer him something to drink?

“Do you want something to drink? Tea or lemonade?” You raised an eyebrow, motioning to the open-concept kitchen you had opted for, which differed from the one you two used to share. 

The raven-haired male glanced over towards the kitchen and one-half of his mouth turned upwards in a lopsided smirk, “You have any beer?” 

You blinked a few times as the request registered in your mind, “Toji it’s almost 10:30.”

“Fine,” he waved a hand and stood up, walking straight past you as if he had owned and built the place himself. He strolled up to the fridge and opened it, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes at the limited options, “I’m kinda hungry too… you don’t mind do you?” 

With that, a smile appeared on your face. For once Toji wasn’t very tense and for once you weren’t either. Maybe he was really over it, or at least somewhat over it. Or… maybe he was trying to move past it and make amends. Maybe coming over today so early was his way of saying “It’s okay, let’s move on together.” It was mature of him, something you never thought you’d think about Toji. He was mature. 

He noticed your smile and nodded, taking that as a yes to the fact you didn’t mind. Maybe your relationship was going to change for the better. 

“I bought Megumi and Tsumiki some rollerskates,” you began turning and walking to sit back on the couch. You didn’t want to hover over your ex-husband and he could pick his food himself. Besides, it was nice to talk as if no time had passed. 

“Am I gonna have to teach them how to skate?” Toji asked, with his head stuck inside the fridge rummaging around. There had to be something in there that he would like. After you divorced you stopped buying the things he liked, so maybe he wouldn’t find anything after all. 

You thought for a moment before nodding, like he could see you, “I think it would be a good bonding activity.” As you spoke your ex-husband came and sat down a foot away from you on the opposite side of the couch. 

He was munching on something you hadn’t bothered to glance over to inspect. Well you didn’t mind, he was the father of your children so if he ate your snacks it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the entire world.

You two sat in silence for a moment. You grabbed the remote and opted to play an old show you were both familiar with but didn’t have the energy to fully commit to. The silence was nice. It was comforting to sit next to someone who you once loved. Well… you still did love him but he didn’t need to know that. It was nice to pretend that nothing had changed and you were back to normal. 

“These chocolates are weird…” Toji murmured, wiping his mouth with the back of his right hand. Then he got up to go to the sink and wash his hands. 

Chocolates? Well, there were only a few chocolates in the fridge. Some you got as a Valentine's Day gift from Megumi, then some you had bought for a bachelorette party. But those were hidden away in the butter container on a high shelf, so none of your kids found them.

The special chocolates had some aphrodisiacs in them and for some weird reason, the bride-to-be requested you brought them for her. Something about a last day of freedom. Whatever it was you shrugged and did so. The packaging said you were supposed to keep them refrigerated and then in twenty to thirty-five minutes they would work. 

“Were they good? Megumi picked them out for me,” you looked back at him as he washed his hands. There was a different aura about your ex-husband as he stood washing his hands. His body was stiff and his muscles looked a bit tense.

He glanced back at you with a faraway expression before nodding and swallowing visibly, “They tasted a little weird, but eh,” Toji shrugged and sat down on the couch again. This time, though, just a bit closer than before. He crossed one of his legs, in a manly way, resting his ankle on his knee and bouncing the resting leg.

“Weird? Were they expired?” You frowned and stared at the TV. You never understood the hype of 1990s sitcoms but it was something better than sitting in more silence. With good silence, you always needed something in the background.

Toji blinked a few times as his lips pressed into a firm line. He took a moment to respond with the muscles in his jaw tightening. His eyes darted back and forth between the girl and the man on TV before he replied, “...Yeah.”

You frowned but said nothing else. Hopefully, you didn’t food-poison him. The one time you had your ex-husband over and he got sick? How bad would that look? You shook your head and moved some hair back behind your ear to the best of your ability, trying not to stare. He looked… different. More focused on the TV like it was the most interesting thing in the world. 

Maybe ten minutes had passed before he broke the silence again, “Can we turn on a fan? I’m running hot,” was all he said, but it was different than before. His voice was low, husky, and rasped. When he turned to meet your worried gaze, you were met with a familiar stare. 

He was… horny. 

Your eyes widened at the sudden realization as to what chocolates he ate, and why they tasted so weird. You were married to him for almost a decade of course you knew the exact look and what it meant down to the way he looked at you through a thick row of eyelashes. You knew what that clenched jaw and tightened bicep meant. He was trying desperately not to make a move on someone he swore he was over. 

You turned away and nodded, standing up to turn on the fan from the knob on the wall. As you did so, you felt those eyes penetrating your back and burning holes deep into your skin. Five years of pent-up lust was coming out and being thrown your way. You swallowed and looked back at the wall. You had to say something. Toji probably already knew he had eaten something laced and he was probably mentally freaking out, as much as Toji Zenin could freak out. 

“Toji-” You couldn’t even get a word out before he hissed and threw his head back. 

“Don’t… speak, doll,” he spoke through gritted teeth, “I don’t think these were Gumi’s chocolates, huh?” Was the last thing he managed to say before he used his forearm to wipe off some sweat forming on his brow. 

Just from sitting there for almost twenty minutes, he had looked like he had run a marathon, drenched in sweat and now … panting like a damn dog. It was so attractive you didn’t know what to do. Of course, you still loved him, we’ve established that. You’d do anything to get back with him and get one more chance to prove you aren’t money-hungry. But you wanted to do it if he wanted it, and you wanted to do it if he asked. You couldn’t take advantage of him, even if seeing him this aroused made you wet.

“They’re laced from a bachelorette party,” you explained quietly, slowly inching your way back to the couch to sit as far away from him as possible.

“That why they were in the butter dish?” He asked, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes. 

“Yes- did you seriously look through my butter dish?” A frown appeared on your lips before you shook your head, “Anyways. I’m really sorry. If you want you can go to the bathroom and … relieve yourself. I won’t judge.”

A few silent seconds passed before Toji moved his head to stare at you. It was pure lust, sure, but mixed into the lust was admiration. It was as if he was staring at you for the first time in a hundred years and seeing you for your soul. No one had looked at you like that, especially not Toji fucking Zenin. 

He blinked a few times and looked away, “Yeah… I should,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. Sweat marks lined his black shirt and you swore that they hadn’t been there before. 

“But,” a curious and sly expression came back to face you, “I’ve been missing you.”

You let out a breath, “That’s just the aphrodisiac talking.” 

He raised an eyebrow and moved his leg that had been crossed down to man spread a bit more than he had before. He was hard! Wow almost like we expected that, right audience? You glanced down at his bulge and for a moment you could picture exactly how it looked in your hands. But he cleared his throat and your eyes snapped back to your ex-husbands.

“So the aphro… whatever-s been making me miss you even before today?” 

He… missed you? Toji Zenin, the heartless man you managed to hurt… missed you? The man who divorced you because you cared more about money than your own family… missed you? 

That was the thing that made you realize you had completely soaked your underwear as you felt it uncomfortably cling deep into your cunt. You shifted around and pressed your lips together tightly. 

Of course, you missed him. Of course, you wanted him! Of course, you wanted your family back! 

“You miss me? Even after the shitty things I’ve done?” Your voice was barely above a whisper but you weren’t even sure he heard it over the throbbing of your heart. 

Your ex-husband nodded and looked down at his lap, “I haven’t been with anyone else in almost six years because I thought there’d be a chance you’d come back.” 

The puzzle clicked into your head and in that moment you felt like the most stupid person in the world. It wasn’t you who was waiting for the first move, but it was him. Toji, the one who was forward -the one who started your relationship by approaching you in that bar- wanted you to make the first move. And you were completely blind to see it. 

“I… was too scared to come back after treating you like that. I always thought if you wanted me back, you’d come back,” with that you laughed hollowly, but the laugh was cut short when you felt the couch's weight shift around. 

Within a second Toji was facing you then on top of you. His body hovered over yours with his face just watching you. It was completely different than the sex-hungry Toji you had married. Yeah you loved each other and you had romantic sex, but it wasn’t to this extent. He looked at you with five years' worth of lust and love. He hadn’t been with anyone since you, he hadn’t touched anyone, he hadn’t tasted anyone. Because… he was waiting for you. 

“I’ve been craving you, princess,” he whispered, “I haven’t been able to touch myself without thinking of you…” One of his hands slowly moved to your right side, cupping your waist and sliding to the top of your hip, “I should have never let you go.” 

You nodded slowly, letting one hand snake up to the back of his neck, “I want another chance. I want to make it better.”

Toj breathed out and a laugh followed suit. You had never seen him this incredibly desperate before. You had never seen him stare at you as if you were the only woman in the world and you never wanted it to stop. 

“Make it better and kiss me, doll,” was all he said before you did as he asked. Your lips melded together in a way that they hadn’t in several years. It was instant muscle memory, with his taste and his soft lips making your core ache for penetration. 

But it was different. He didn’t deepen the kiss at first, instead, he took his time to suck on your bottom lip. Toji wanted to taste you and savor you until there was nothing left to taste and savor. He wanted you to intoxicate him until he passed out. Even if he had never taken that aphrodisiac, his feelings would have never changed. Sure, they wouldn’t have been as sexual but where's the fun in that?

You felt a guttural moan pass your lips when he tilted his head to the right to deepen the kiss, and you heard him snicker. God you missed how cocky he would get and it seemed as if nothing had changed. His hands hadn’t changed either. They dipped into the hem of your sweatpants and traced the soft skin of your stomach. 

Toji had always loved how your stomach hung out of your body. It was a sign you had birthed two beautiful joys. And it was a sign you were capable of creating more joy with him and only him. He loved to bite and kiss every stretch mark and mole, every fiber of fat, even if he’d never say it out loud. 

Now he was too busy taking your mouth against his to speak about how beautiful your body was. One of his hands pulled down your sweatpants and the other pulled down your underwear. Your head was swimming from arousal you hadn’t noticed his hands pushing your legs open. But you did notice when he pulled away from your kiss. A trail of slobber dripped from his chin and onto your aching cunt. 

He knew exactly what you liked. I mean, you were married for almost ten years. He knew how delicate you wanted him to start, even if he’d groan and complain while doing it. Toji was always gentle when he began to stimulate your vulva. 

Two fingers ran down your slit before pulling back your lips and letting him use his tongue. Fuck, how you loved it when he fucked you with his long tongue. You didn’t know where he got that magical talent from but you weren’t complaining. Toji’s tongue slid from your clit down into your center, focussing on sliding his tongue back and forth against you. Your breath hitched at the sudden sensation. 

It didn’t take him long before he was circling back and sucking on your swollen clit. His mouth was made from gods and he used it to please you. Your hands trailed up your own body to grab onto one of your breasts. If he wasn’t going to stimulate your nipples then you were going to yourself. One hand slid underneath your cardigan to pinch the pink nub and roll it under your fingers. 

“Toji…mm-fu..fuck,” you breathed out, rolling your hips against his face which was completely stuffed into your pussy. Toji would tell you straight up he enjoyed eating you out for his pleasure, not anything else. Sure, he wanted you to cum, but he wanted to be able to taste you cum even more. 

He wanted to feel you squirt in his face and drink it up. Even if you thought it tasted bad he relished in it. And god did he miss this. He missed playing with your cunt until you were sore. He could just cum from eating you out and Toji was getting close. Just sinking in the tip of his cock in your folds at this rate would completely milk him. 

Toji pulled his face back to wipe off his mouth with the back of his hand, “Do you want me to fuck you… or would you prefer I make you squirt?” His voice was even more perfect than you could’ve remembered, and hearing it through your ringing ears made it more heavenly. 

“...Both,” you whispered, looking down at him with one eye closed and a smile pressed against your lips. 

He blinked a few times then grinned, “That’s my girl,” and he went nose-first into your center. It took him a few seconds to pry one hand from your thighs to pump inside you. At this point, you were accustomed to two fingers being the minimum for Toji, and that’s what he promised. 

Two fingers gently pushed inside of you but didn’t stay gentle for long. The last knuckle on his index and middle finger curled, followed by the second to create a motion he knew would touch your g-spot. Toji slowly moved them in and out, and in and out, and in and out. With each thrust of his hand, it got faster and you could feel a sensation rising in your lower body. 

Toji knew the only way to truly get you close was multiple ways of stimulation. So he’d typically eat you out, finger you, and massage your nipples. Thankfully you were taking care of your breasts which left your pussy to him. He ate you out like a starving man on death row whose last meal was something he hadn’t eaten in ten years with an endless supply. 

The sensation rising in your core hasn’t been talked about enough, huh? You felt it build directly inside your walls, as your G-spot was stimulated. Then it moved further out to your clit, then down your thighs and legs. Before it rushed over your head and made you throw it back in a loud moan. You were getting close and you couldn’t even verbalize it. But Toji knew exactly what to look out for to know when you were close. And he could tell when you were about to squirt. 

And you were about to squirt. 

“T-T…hah fu-fuck Toji,” you groaned, letting go of one of your breasts to grab a fist full of his hair. He didn’t say anything so as not to disrupt the magic he was brewing in your nether regions (ba dum tss). 

He bobbed his head up and down a few times and tempted fate by adding in a third finger. It wasn’t so much that you couldn’t take it, but more so that he knew exactly what it was going to do. Within a few seconds, you gasped and let out a loud moan, with a shudder running through your body. Another shudder and you felt yourself release on him. It was one thing to squirt and not feel it, but it was another to feel the sensation of releasing your liquids. 

It jutted out of your pussy and onto your grinning ex-husband's face. He laughed a bit and wiped his mouth with his forearm, before going down and licking up your juices on your thighs and a bit on your clit. 

“H-hey,” you whimpered, nudging his forehead as he started to eat you out again, “You’re getting distracted…” 

Toji blinked a few times before sitting up and looking down at your shaking body, “Shame this couch is white…” He shrugged, reaching one of his hands out to grab your shoulder. Both hands grabbed your shoulders and gently turned you around so you were lying on your stomach, with a pillow added to your front to make sure you were comfortable. 

You heard a belt unbuckle then some shifting as he undid his pants and then underwear. Toji knew you enough to know you were on birth control, so condoms weren’t a concern of his. You both had a breeding kink, who doesn’t? He loved the feeling of filling you up with his cum until he was completely dry, and it wouldn’t take him very long to finish at this rate. 

“I’m gonna go in,” he whispered, patting your hip. 

Then before you could speak, but let’s be honest you were completely gone by this point, you felt a swollen tip press against your folds. You didn’t even get a moan in before you heard a faint… whimper from Toji. He cleared his throat and thrust in fully, gasping and leaning forward against your body involuntarily. 

“I… haven’t fucked anyone in six ye…years,” he gasped again. Any other movement and he’d cum instantly. So much for hot rough sex. But still, he was determined to fuck you until you came again. 

“Me… either…” You murmured into the couch, letting your eyes close against the wet cushion. A wet cushion you would be dealing with tomorrow. 

“God. I missed you. I missed you so much,” Toji repeated a few more times, straightening his posture and fastening both hands to your hips. He pulled back and slowly began to thrust. Not for your sake but for the fact he wanted to elongate this feeling as much as possible. 

His thrusts got a bit faster and his grip tighter, “...I’m… mm gonna fill y-you with my seed. I-I want anothe…mm fuc-fuck another b…hah…. Baby.” That was all you needed to hear. 

A family, you’d be starting another family together. Too bad you were on birth control. But for now, you could pretend this would be the start of your new family. It turned you on as much as it made you happy. The man you loved, loved, and wanted a family with you. God, that was nice. And what was even nicer was the fact he was beginning to rail you. 

Six years was six years too long. You ached for him to fill you up with fat, hot spurts of his white cum. You wanted him to stuff you to the point where you leaked and cried for it to end. You needed him to impregnate you so you both would be together for the rest of your lives. 

You needed Toji to be yours now. 

Toji was getting close, it was obvious by the way he thrust and the way he cursed. It was sloppier than his typical sloppy strokes and his voice got a bit higher than normal. That’s when you knew he was overstimulated and about to burst at any given moment. You wanted to speak and scream for him to fill you up, but the only thing you could do was mindlessly beg into the air. Neither of you seemed to hear or notice each other's words as he… came. 

You never heard Mr. Zenin full-on whimper until that day. It was clear it came out accidentally from how his hips jutted forward and he pulled you instantly to him. He whimpered out a loud “I love you” and whined as his cum shot out. It filled you up more than you remembered he used to. His whimpers weren’t very high-pitched but they were pathetic. It was the cries from a man who hadn’t fucked in almost six years, and the cries of a man who missed your pussy so much.

If you ever get the chance to make a buff, deep-voiced, grown man whimper, I highly encourage it. 

Toji slid out of your cunt and flopped back onto the couch, leaving you for a moment to lie with your ass in the air. You were so tired you didn’t even notice when he grabbed you from behind and pulled you to his chest. His warm arms wrapped protectively around you and for once you felt as though everything had gone back to normal. 

Toji Zenin would be Toji Fushiguro again. 

[ogviceversa]

Freaky Friday Block Part 2 Max & The Thomas Family

Max:

I’m sitting here trying to do some kind of research on this situation and I don’t even know what to freaking google. I mean I could just type in, “help, I woke in my friend’s dad’s body. Oh and by the way said friend is now his little brother.”

I don’t know, I’ve been listening to Jacob and Conner go back and forth for hours now. And Mr. Thomas is much help either.

I’m just glad my family was out of town so they didn’t have to deal with this whole body swap thing.

The craziest part is that we learned quickly that ‘we’ aren’t the only ones. I think half of the block is going crazy right now from waking up as someone else.

Hell, I saw that college guys a couple houses down walking one of their roommates. He literally swapped bodies with a dog! Nuts right?

I guess I can’t be too mad with Mr. Thomas’s body. Hell, I’m hoping once some of the chaos settles down I can actually enjoy all of this.

Wait a minute, where is Mr. Thomas? He left over an hour ago and said he’s just going to change and come back….

Mr. Thomas

Fuck I’ve been stroking this thing for hours now! I can’t stop!!

I know it’s awful of me especially this being the body of one of my son’s friends… but you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a whole house to myself? Hell, I haven’t been on a date in 10 years.

Ever since my kid’s mother left me after I came out to her I’ve had a hard time finding anyone to date.

But sitting here in this young handsome body… playing with this cock. Oh my god…

I keep trying to head back to my house but I’ve truly lost track of time. I’m just too horny right now.

I wonder… oh here it is! I knew Max was gay, he had Grindr already downloaded.

I take him off of discreet and update his bio: looking, ready to host.

Shit, his parents don’t come back for another week. I can at least enjoy myself at night.

Back at the Thomas’ Home:

Conner:

This is so freaking cool!! Not only did I wake up this morning inside my big brother’s body but now I have his room too!!!

I told him this morning since I have his body, that I get his room. He was so flipping mad about it but I can’t fit in my old bed anymore.

We screamed at each other for a long time. But I ended up picking him up and carrying him in my much smaller body back to my room.

He waited outside the door throwing a tantrum for a bit before giving up. So looks like I won!

Now I have an entire bathroom to myself and I even have my own cellphone (which I’m surprised he didn’t try to get from me.)

Now I think I’m going to take a shower because my new body is stinky!!!

I take off Jacob’s sweat pants he slept in and stopped at his undies.

I wonder what this looks like…

I yank them off and Jacob’s weiner comes floppin out. He has a big bush of hair right above it and weiner is way bigger than mine.

I start playing with it for a few until it gets hard.

I walk into the shower and start rubbing some all over my new muscles down to Jacob’s stinky feet.

Jacob’s feet are always stinky especially after practice. Sometimes they will stink up our entire house.

I weirdly like the smell…

I wash in between his toes and work back up his hairy legs.

I wrap his strong hand around his weiner and started tugging at it.

It felt so good that I couldn’t stop!

I tugged and tugged faster and faster…

I started to get really warm inside…

That’s when I started squirting all over the shower uncontrollably.

I was so out of breath that I laid on the shower floor for a few.

As soon as I could stand back up, I turned off the water and dried off.

I walked over to the mirror and stared at my big brother’s face that I now controlled.

I hope I keep his body forever!

*knock knock*

“Conner it’s me, you have my phone and I want it back,” I hear coming from the door.

I walk over to the door and open it up.

“I don’t think you’re getting this phone. Actually, it’s my phone now. I have this body which was your body. But now it’s mine. So my phone, my room, and now my body. Also, I think it’s best if you call me Jacob for now. Understood little bro?”

Jacob was so angry. He tried to yank the phone out of my hand but I just dangled it over him.

“So close on getting it!”

I jumps for it again and laugh at him.

“Well this has been fun but I’m going to lock my door now.”

I closed the door in his face and went back to his bed.

I pulled my towel off and grabbed one of his dirty socks off of the floor. I laid back on his bed or I should say my bed now— sniffing his dirty sock and gently playing with my new hairy balls.

Max:

So no one else seems to care right now about trying to figure out why we are all in each other’s bodies. So I decided to stop caring as well and just enjoy my new hot daddy body.

Starting with these sexy ass feet! God, I’m already getting hard!

My initial plan was to take a shower and I got as far as stripping down and grabbing a towel.

Unfortunately, I’m so distracted by these feet and Mr. Thomas’s big hairy ballsack.

I eventually get to the shower, still have not jerked off yet.

It’s fun seeing Mr. Thomas hard throbbing cock leaking so bad…

I’ll fondle it for a few and stare down at his feet again.

God I love them!! If we ever switch back I wish there was a way I could take his feet with me. Or at least get some visitation of his lower half.

Hell, this maybe my forever body. I may be Daniel Thomas forever.

I dry off and sit in the steamy bathroom… talking dirty to myself.

I work my way back to his bed jumping on it. I hold his feet up the air again.

I pull the towel off completely and rub his hands all over his hairy butt cheeks down to his hole.

I finally start jerking his dick that’s now throbbing so bad it immediately leaks.

“Mr. Thomas, you’re such a beautiful man. I love the way your cock feels, I love your hairy ass, your big feet, ohhhh… your dick is about to burst!”

“Oh god!!! This feels so goooooddd!!!”

I pull at his hair and start moaning incredibly loud.

“IM CUMMMMINNNNGGGGG FUUUUUUCCCC”

Cum sprays all over me and I’m covered in his cum. I take bit off of his chest and taste it.

“Yum!”

I lay back in his bed naked and grinning knowing that in a few hours I’m going to do it all over again.

[weaselandfriends]

The Making Of: Fargo

Today, May 4 2025, is the tenth anniversary of when I started Fargo! To celebrate, here is a behind-the-scenes/retrospective on the work. Enjoy!

I. This Is Your Brain On Anime

I started writing Fargo at the lowest point in my life. I'd been watching anime.

For years, I'd managed to not watch anime. Sure, there was Pokémon as a kid, and to a lesser extent Digimon and Yu-Gi-Oh. And as a preteen cinephile who followed the Oscars, Spirited Away's Best Animated win got me to pick it up on DVD. I'd later seen a handful of anime films that similarly carried cinephile credibility: other Miyazakis (Nausicaä, Princess Mononoke), Akira, Ghost in the Shell, Paprika. But I had always refused to watch anime anime. You know what I mean. The seasonal stuff.

In 2007, the final fringe of Wild West internet before Facebook changed everything, seasonal anime was exploding in popularity. A lot of this was due to sheer accessibility. No longer did you need to find a VHS release of some OVA or hope for a play on Adult Swim. Fan subbing and dubbing communities rendered more-or-less anything showing up in Japan available to worldwide audiences via a nifty new site called YouTube. This level of immediacy, combined with the niche tight-knit communities that governed the internet prior to social media, made following seasonal anime a social event. Week by week people posted reactions, reviews, theories, and memes, driving up engagement and rapidly expanding anime's reach as an entertainment medium.

The big breakthrough title in this regard is 2006's The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, a massively influential show that changed the look and feel of mainstream anime for years. But my first brush with the anime community came via the following year's Lucky Star, by the same studio and with the same moe stylings. As I prowled the boards of Nintendo's official forum, Nsider, and its successor Nsider 2 (after Nintendo, in characteristically Nintendo fashion, annihilated the site from existence without warning), I found myself constantly bumping into people posting pictures of these four hyper-cutesy anime girls with candy-colored hair. They were everywhere. Teenage me took one look and came to an unshakeable and incontrovertible conclusion:

Only girls would watch this!

Saccharine aesthetic? Lack of plot? And, god, all of the characters are girls? Girl show. No doubt in my mind. Nah, none of this "anime" crap for me. I'll stick with real media, like Leprechaun 4: In Space (which I eagerly stayed up until midnight to watch on the SciFi Channel) and Eli Roth's splatterhouse classic Cabin Fever.

Then some devious motherfucker, I don't even remember who they were, told me something truly insidious, something that would haunt me for years to come. "Hey," they said, "what if there was a show like Lucky Star except they all killed each other with knives? Wouldn't that be awesome?"

And they recommended me Higurashi no Naku Koro ni.

(They showed me an AMV with a similar feel to this one to entice me. Unfortunately that original AMV is lost to history.)

I wound up bingeing the entire 50-episode show, in 10-minute chunks on YouTube, across a single 24-hour period. I couldn't stop myself. It was the same obsessive consumption that would infest me when I discovered Homestuck five years later. Obsession so intense that after I finished it, I immediately went crawling in search of more anime and devoured Death Note in another 24-hour span.

Emerging, blinking, back into the sun, I looked around and realized I couldn't go on like this. I couldn't plunge headlong, headless, into anime. I could not become the dreaded "weeb."

So I cut off anime. No more. As quickly as my drop into the abyss began, I ended it. And a few years later, when I went to college, I cut off the internet as a social experience altogether. No more forums, no more chatrooms. I was an adult. Time to do adult stuff, like read classic literature, write novels, and play League of Legends for 10 hours every day.

Despite how it sounds, college was a great time in my life. I enjoyed learning, enjoyed going to classes, enjoyed reading textbooks, enjoyed writing essays. And I was good at it, very very good—even with the 10-hour League sessions. I felt no need to reconsider anime.

Then I graduated.

Graduating college was like slamming face-first into a brick wall. My entire life until then had seemed to be building toward something. Academia is a series of stepping stones to more prestigious levels of academia (middle school! high school! college!) with a golden gleaming Adulthood at the end of the line, omnipresent. And I did it! My success in college got me a job, eight hours in an office five days a week, much better than anyone else in my post-recession cohort. Adulthood accomplished.

It was miserable. That gleaming paradise Adulthood was a sham. I was doing less work and less difficult work than at college but they were demanding I spend way more time doing it. All sense of fulfilment vanished. There was no longer progress, no bigger and better things on the horizon. I had nothing to hope for. I'd achieved the thing people tend to hope for, and THIS WAS IT. The notion that consumed me was that my life had slipped into overtime, a dead zone past its expiration date, treading water in misery. I also had a 90-minute daily commute in SoCal traffic.

My free time was cut down to a fraction of what it was in college, so no more 10-hour League sessions. I tried to maintain my schedule of reading 50 pages and writing 2,000 words a day, but I no longer had the time or energy, and it didn't make sense why I didn't have the time or energy, because I was doing things that were so trivial and easy compared to my college courseload. Work was an arbitrary time-wasting machine with nothing ahead except 40 more years of work. I wanted to die.

Despairing, seeking nothing save relief, I turned back to anime.

In a Skype groupchat I wound up in, there were two teenagers with their fingers on the pulse of the latest anime buzz. They were my guides back into this wretched world. First, I was served up Fate/Zero, which I consumed quickly (though not with the same leisure time to afford a 24-hour binge) before asking for seconds. I was then recommended Angel Beats. Okay, I said, typing Angel Beats into YouTube, which seven years after Higurashi I still assumed was the main way to watch anime. The first result I got was called Bludgeoning Angel Dokuro-chan. Aha, I said. Angel Beats, Bludgeoning Angel, I know what this is. It's an alternate translation of the title.

It's the kind of comedy of errors that could only happen to someone who timewarped directly from 2007 to 2014 with complete ignorance of the intervening years. Angel Beats, of course, is a tearjerking Key show about students in the afterlife coming to grips with their tragic deaths. Bludgeoning Angel Dokuro-chan is about an angel repeatedly bludgeoning a boy because otherwise he will grow up and create a world where every woman stops aging at 10 years old—a so-called "Lolicon Paradise." (As someone who reads classic lit, seeing the bizarre cross-cultural route Nabokov's novel has taken always amuses me.)

When I started Bludgeoning Angel, I was a little uncertain whether I had the right show. Its tone didn't quite jive with Bingus and Bungus in the Skype chat. Hesitantly, I decided to react in chat to the first thing that happens in the show. "Haha," I said. "The angel really just killed that guy."

In a sadistic twist of fate, this is somehow exactly how Angel Beats begins, too. My friends responded as though everything was total normal, and I figured I must have the right show after all. Thus, I wound up watching the entirety of Bludgeoning Angel Dokuro-chan, which becomes increasingly surreal, violent, and depraved as it goes on, and only learned my mistake after the final episode. That show probably tainted me forever.

Afterward, I watched the real Angel Beats (in my depressive stupor, it made me cry), Mirai Nikki, and the "only for girls" Lucky Star (it also made me cry). I was getting hooked. It was only a matter of time before Bingus and Bungus recommended me a true landmine. They did. "I think you might like this," Bungus said, tepidly, not exactly sure.

"Hit me," I said.

II. Puella Magi Madoka Magica

The League of Legends-induced timewarp that imprisoned me in college had the side effect of allowing me, in early 2015, to watch Puella Magi Madoka Magica completely blind. I hadn't the faintest idea what it was about, or even a hint of its reputation. Bungus said, "Watch it," and I watched it.

Believe it or not, this blindness backfired. Despite the sanctity people place on spoilers, expectations are a crucial component of the narrative experience. Unaware of what I was watching, I was not nearly as impacted by what I saw. The much-famed Episode 3 twist was nothing to me. Why? I was certain, absolutely certain, the death wouldn't stick. I felt extremely confident either Madoka or Sayaka would make a wish to bring Mami back to life.

Nonetheless, the show grew on me. The cute exterior steadily transforming grimmer was a Ratatouille flashback to Higurashi; there's something so delicious about how jaggedly the hyper-poppy upbeat OP jumpscares in the middle of increasingly hopeless situations during the show's back half. After 12 episodes and a movie I needed more. Not more anime. More Madoka Magica.

I didn't get it from the spinoffs, of which there were several even then, most of which I knew nothing about. Instead I went looking for it on more familiar terrain, another relic of my 2007 timewarp: fanfiction-dot-net. This is where people go to engage with media fandom, right? I hit up the Madoka page, sorted content by number of reviews, and got this:

Well, sort of. Fargo wasn't there yet, obviously. The other five were, in this same order. I opened To the Stars, read a chapter or two, found it impossibly boring and nothing at all like the show, and discarded it. Resonance Days, A Happy Dream, and cat's cradle [sic] all looked like shipfics, which was not my speed. That left one fic, which I would read in one day home sick (legitimately) from work, one fic that would prove massively influential on the idea for Fargo I didn't yet have.

Puella Magi Homura Magica by Lestaki, despite its second-place position on this prestigious list (behind only a work once described by acclaimed guy-with-a-blog Eliezer Yudkowsky as the most prescient depiction of future warfare ever written), is a fanfic I have never heard anyone mention once in my now 10-year stint in the Madoka Magica trenches. Even in the subculture it is a blank of memory, which makes sense if you look at its publication and last updated dates. It came out May 24, 2011—barely a month after the show finished airing—and was unceremoniously abandoned, incomplete, little over a year later. It's easy to see the fic emerging in the frenzy of activity prompted by the show's immediate popularity, rising on the tide, and vanishing under the waves of works with more temporally dogged creators.

So what is it?

PMHM is a three-arc story set after the show (and ignoring, of course, Rebellion, which it predates). Its first arc focuses on the three-man band of Homura, Kyoko, and Mami as they prepare to fight against a "demon prince"—an exceptionally powerful, city-destroying wraith—that Kyubey predicts will be born in Mitakihara soon. The demon prince is so powerful that the trio cannot possibly defeat it on their own, causing them to soon be joined by a ragtag team of original characters, spinoff characters, and a contracting Hitomi. The squad butts heads, but ultimately manages to come together to destroy the demon prince when it appears.

The second arc revolves around an inter-city magical girl war. The Mitakihara girls, for reasons I don't fully remember, have to invade and defeat an OC magical girl warlord in charge of another city. Both sides amass allies until the final confrontation involves at least a hundred magical girls. At the end of the arc, the OC villain reveals she manufactured the war to put Homura in a situation where she would be forced to continually use her time-rewinding powers to save Kyoko and Mami (whom she has come to care for over the course of the story), which is part of the villain's plot to generate enough karmic potential that she can create a new Madoka-esque god. Homura is aware that every time she rewinds time, she is helping the villain usurp Madoka, so she's torn between saving her living friends and saving her conceptual girlfriend.

That's where the story abruptly ends, mired in a series of repetitive chapters where the villain keeps finding ways to kill Kyoko and/or Mami and forcing Homura to turn back time. (It seems the author trapped themselves in the concept of showing each timeline in detail and lost momentum fast.)

And that's where Fargo begins.

III. Williston

Fargo was not a conscious work. Unlike most of my fiction, it was not assiduously planned. It was not kicked around in my head for years before I started writing it. It was not drafted and redrafted. Fargo was a creature of instinct, and because of that even now I look at it with a certain sense of wonder. Both Chicago and Cleveland Quixotic originated with me examining Fargo, trying to see what made it so popular, and laboriously reengineering whatever I concluded was the cause (I was wrong both times).

It emerged in my head not as an idea, but a vibe. Frigid, frostbitten wasteland. A tough, take-no-bullshit magical girl, dead inside. She'd use a Gatling gun. Long brown coat.

I was 60,000 words into a draft of a story I'd been planning since I first read Homestuck in 2012, a story I was tentatively calling Soulstealer but would eventually call Modern Cannibals. But I didn't want to write it anymore. At work, I was still miserable. I wanted to write a work of misery. I wanted to write a miserable human being. I abandoned the Modern Cannibals draft despite how far along it was (I was at the scene where Z. rescues Kiki from Mitchum's party). I began, as if automatically, writing something else. It was the same surrender that had led me to anime in the first place. The path of emotional, intellectual least resistance.

It's probably because I was on this path that I wound up unconsciously borrowing so many structural and worldbuilding cues from Puella Magi Homura Magica, especially in the first arc, with the Williston archon substituted for the Mitakihara demon prince. It wasn't even a conscious decision to do what I had seen in PMHM; I didn't realize the overlap until later. I was putting onto page the last thing lodged in my brain, and that was it. At work, I'd recently learned about the homeless crisis in Williston due to the shale oil boom, and that wound up in the story too.

Basically every part of the first few chapters of Fargo manifested on the page without me having any idea what it would build to. When Kyubey told Sloan to go to Williston, I knew he was being deceptive, but I didn't know how, and certainly had not figured out his elaborate plot to defeat Homura yet. Ditto Omaha. Clair Ibsen as Sloan's detested rival was a name I flicked onto the page at random (combining Clair, the gym leader from Pokémon, with Henrik Ibsen, Norwegian playwright, because I figured a character from Minnesota should have a Scandinavian surname). The girl, unnamed, who scuffles with Sloan in Chapter 1 was not yet Anoka; I had no plans for her to reappear, nor plans to make her relevant to how the Williston archon was born. When writing Chapter 2, I had no conception of Delaney or Erika (another Pokémon gym leader) as characters until I started writing them, at which point their personalities emerged, fully-formed, all at once. I didn't know Delaney's backstory, only that she was suspicious.

What made Fargo work is that I very quickly figured this stuff out.

Throwing these ideas and characters onto the board was like putting myself in an escape room, and the challenge then became to figure out how everything slotted together. It was around Chapter 4—which I had written fully before I started posting the story, and which was about the time I realized I actually wanted to go through with what was starting to shape up as a long and ambitious work—that I started seeing the connective tissue. Kyubey's plot came into view, as well as Omaha's role in it. (Hence why Chapter 5 begins with a scene involving Homura.) I figured out Delaney's backstory, though I hadn't yet figured out how she was part of Kyubey's plot yet. The end of the first arc formed in my mind: Erika dead, Delaney alive, she and Sloan en route to Minneapolis to fight Clair. I had the beginnings of an idea how the second arc would go; there was the ghost of an idea for a third arc, but that made the story seem impossibly long, so I wrote with the belief everything would end with Clair. By the end of the arc, when I had started thinking about Clair's goons, I had the idea for Anoka, and incorporated her into the Williston archon's origin story.

I think there are still signs of lack of foresight. The actual plot of Fargo's first arc is like the plot of a Legend of Zelda game. Go to three different places, fight three bosses, then go to the final dungeon where the final boss awaits. What the characters actually do, narratively, is spin their wheels in endless action sequences; all sense of progression is driven by the slow unveiling of Delaney and Erika's backstories, which recontextualizes them as characters, as well as broadening hints toward Kyubey's plot. And Sloan's gradual recovery from the precipice of despair, of course.

That last one was a mirror of the author. Fargo was an immediate smash hit of the kind I had never seen before; I was getting two to three comments per chapter, and they were good comments, too. Before, I hadn't even been able to beg friends and family to read my novels. (I once described the plot of a pre-Bavitz novel to my grandmother; she said, "That doesn't sound any good at all.") I expected obscurity, an obscurity reflected by the aggressively anti-SEO title I decided on as a joke (Fargo being a movie I don't particularly like, and the only real overlap between that one and mine being neither is actually set in Fargo). Receiving any reception at all was a miracle.

At the same time, I moved closer to where I worked, killing my daily commute once and for all. Time, energy, and hope were surging back into me. The dream I had always harbored of being an internationally-renowned author seemed to be finally coming true. Everything was looking up. Riding this momentum, I no longer worried about the ambitious length of my story. It was worth it. I was in for the long haul.

IV. Minneapolis

Clair's personality emerged as the natural foil to Sloan, the brutish, instinct-driven meathead: elegant, careful, intelligent, poised. It was my get-out-of-the-escape-room problem solving that led me to realize this made her similar to Kyubey himself; that connection inspired the plot twist that she was, in fact, a homunculus created by him, which turned into Delaney being a homunculus too. (In early Williston chapters, I repeatedly focused on Delaney's dead eyes to foreshadow her sociopathic turn; this pedestrian bit of description became eerily serendipitous for explaining how she changed her eye color with magic to hide its natural red.)

As an author, I myself was transitioning from Sloan-esque instinct to more careful and intelligent planning. I'd already come up with Anoka, but the other Minneapolis girls emerged in ways I thought would play well off of Clair, emphasizing her uncanny and aristocratic coldness. I entered the second arc with more elaborate plotting, where I would set up characters like chess pieces and knock them over in spectacular and fulfilling ways. It all centered around the Yaldabaoth fight, which was the first part of the second arc I came up with, in a first arc sense of unconsciousness: A massive monster of light, crawling across a city, chasing magical girls as they sped around in a car.

There were some speed bumps. This arc featured the only time while writing Fargo that I scrapped a scene and rewrote it; this being the Terminatrix's introduction, which originally showed her receiving her commission from Kyubey. I felt it was plodding and tedious compared to her current introduction, which remains highly popular. (As a side note, Puella Magi Homura Magica also includes a character whom Kyubey pays to kill magical girls he doesn't like.)

Otherwise, though, I was locked in. Everything just worked. I came up with an idea for a character or a plot twist and it made perfect sense with what I had already established. It was like magic. It was effortless. I was reading literature again, too, after a year away from it; my prose improved as a result. There is unparalleled exhilaration in growth. It was like academia all over again, where I learned new things day after day and always seemed to be ascending to some better place. I started imagining future greatness. It wouldn't stop here. Fargo was just the start. My next work would be even better, would be read by more people. (Modern Cannibals remained bouncing in the back of my mind.) It wouldn't be long before I was breaking out of the internet and into the real world. They'd be talking about me...

V. Mitakihara

Why did Puella Magi Madoka Magica mean so much to me?

Because, as I mentioned, it didn't leave an immediate impact. A lot of what I look at now as masterstroke storytelling—Mami's death, or Rebellion in general—I first watched insensible, uncomprehending, somewhat blandly being washed over. Only a few months prior I had watched Lucky Star, a work that would heavily inspire one of my future stories (Cockatiel x Chameleon), and was profoundly and immediately emotionally affected by it in a way I almost never am. I cried at its conclusion. There was something unbearable and tragic in the ending of such a nice world, no matter how inoffensive that ending was; in the banal high school life it depicted, I saw reflected what I had lost forever, been sealed away from on this side of Adulthood.

(Which explains why my mindset on it changed so radically from when I was an actual high schooler, its ostensible target demographic.)

I didn't have a similar reaction to Madoka Magica. I liked it, for sure, but it was not an emotionally harrowing experience for me. Yet it grew in my mind, in ways I didn't consciously understand. It kept crawling, kept forcing me to think about it, until there was no option but for me to drop what I was doing and write over 300,000 words of fan fiction for it.

I never figured out the answer until a few years later, when I chanced upon a post someone made on Tumblr. "Okay," it said, in typical I-know-everything tone, "but can any of you tell me a single THEME in Madoka Magica?"

It made me think. What IS Madoka Magica about, beyond a plot-and-character level? The story, at least in the show, is so lean and tight that it lacks a lot of obvious signposting in this regard. It's easy to look at Madoka Magica and see a sharp story founded on a series of slick twists, with a banal hope versus despair angle for a bit of emotional punchiness. Regardless of whether you agree with that assessment or not, it certainly couldn't have been what I saw in it to make me so obsessed, right?

It's not even like Madoka Magica is a story that lends itself to fanfic, past the level of shipfic or slice of life AU. Its extreme economy of characters renders it vitriolic to expansion. Everything that matters in the world of Madoka Magica is happening in Mitakihara to five specific people. The system extends beyond them but in a useless way; magical girls in Osaka or Russia or Fargo exist, but they are doomed to irrelevance, doomed to die pointlessly. Every canonical Madoka spinoff falls into this same pratfall; the best involve the backstories of the main cast or past Homura timeloops, the rest fail to rise above sideshow.

I think what gnawed at me, what made me brute force a new narrative into this story that doesn't need one, was the reflection I saw in it. The Lucky Star kids with all their hopes and dreams and pleasant optimism tossed into the clanking reality of Adulthood, forced to work jobs with no point and no hope until they finally just died. The more I rewatch the show, the more I become consumed by a socioeconomic reading of it, the financial disparities between the characters (Hitomi, free from all of this, is rich; Madoka, the redemptive savior, is too—while Mami is faking it and Sayaka is shabbily middle class in a foreboding and monotone apartment complex, consumed by dreams of an upper-class recital she once saw), the conversations Madoka has with her parents (who tell her again and again what "being an adult is like," only to then give advice that is utterly unhelpful), the emotionless and mercenary way Kyubey dissolves all meaning in the universe to a system of pluses and minuses.

Unconsciously, the socioeconomic aspects of the original story emerged in Fargo with even more exaggeration: Sloan is introduced in terms of her outrageous poverty, everyone else is on the economic fringes (prostitutes, drug dealers), and only Clair lives in a state of financial stability. (There's a sideplot in the Minneapolis arc where she plans to gentrify the city by rooting out its Ramseys, all in service of creating a model community to show off online.) Sloan pursues monomaniacal revenge for a betrayal she suffered at Clair's hands, but the crux of the reader's disdain for Clair lies in the unctuousness of her wealth and the disposable way she treats her employees. Plus, there's the plaid-shirted workers who osmose around Williston, silent as they fall into pits and keel over dead on the streets, parts of an economy founded on resource extraction not all too dissimilar from Kyubey's own system (though he, ironically, wonders at one point why humans would get so up in arms over such a "primitive energy source").

Sloan is a have-not and Clair is a have, so there's an innate sympathy for her in favor of her archnemesis, on top of the innate sympathy readers have for protagonists over antagonists. This all sets the stage for what is in my opinion the best part of Fargo, its third arc, where the story's thematic elements come together in more interesting and subversive ways. It's all predicated on Sloan's quest for revenge having been faulty from the start, her motives much less ironclad than they first appear and her bullheadedness making her the perfect pawn in Kyubey's schemes.

The best aspect of the third arc is how Sloan is irrelevant. Seeing the outcome of her self-absorption cuts her off at the knees, and she has to grapple with the fact that the world is a lot bigger than her immediate purview. Ultimately, her role in the climax is tangential, a singular meaningful wrench tossed into a much larger machine that manages to prompt an unexpected positive outcome. She barely even factors into the penultimate chapter. (Fun fact: Chapter 41, Love, with its 10+ character POVs, was both directly inspired by Ulysses but also by a comment I got during the first arc hoping for more POVs with drastically different writing styles.) The emotional power of Sloan's arc stems from her coming to peace with her own inadequacies, both morally and in terms of greatness, and in that way she wound up being a mirror for me to the end, didn't she? In academia, I believed I was going to be someone important, and much of the existential dread of my workplace came from its boundless mediocrity. Fargo allowed me to come to terms with that mediocrity, both in the story and without; though much of that "coming to terms" was based on the new delusion that my popular fanfic would spur me on to mainstream literary success, a delusion I would not need to reckon with until after the minimal readership for my next work, Modern Cannibals.

This also explains my decision to frame Madoka's magical girl heaven as a giant office job. Though I would also defend that decision from a textual standpoint, given the esteem Madoka has for her company suit mother, and how she visualizes her mother as an example of "successful" adulthood in contrast to the cruel failure of the magical girl system.

Lastly, there's the instinctual level of things. All this socioeconomic stuff was not explicitly clear to me even as I was writing it; I didn't consciously think "Oh gotta make this about having a job." It just came out that way, an expelling of the self, the same way I unconsciously modeled some of Fargo's structure and worldbuilding on Homura Magica. The same way, I suppose, I modeled the emotional thrust of the story on Madoka Magica. A bleak downward spiral of misery and death culminating in a sudden and unexpected redemption. When, as a teen, I watched Higurashi, I remember being bowled over by its unexpectedly happy ending. I'd never seen anything like it, not in something otherwise so macabre and pessimistic. As a teen, I enjoyed that ending as a subversion of expectations, an original and novel idea. As an adult, watching Madoka Magica, it held a lot more emotional potency, and that potency was, like everything else, unconsciously replicated in Fargo.

When I wrote that final chapter, I remember being utterly drained. The finish line was in sight and I had been doing this for a year, for 300,000 words, far longer than any other story I'd ever written until then. I remember feeling like my prose was sloppy, like I was stumbling right at the end, like the chapter was no good. But the reviews were overwhelmingly positive, and now when I reread that chapter I see nothing wrong with its prose or technique. Even stripped bare, exhausted, that unconscious emotional core remained, and maybe that sense of being stripped down, so that nothing else is there but it, is what gives it so much power.

VI. Retrospective

There are flaws in Fargo. The prose is not always my best, and there are stretches that are clunky. In Chapter 3 I wrote a 5,000-word fight scene, and became possessed by the notion that all subsequent fights must be even longer, which led to some truly overlong combat sequences. There are a lot of continuity errors and mistakes, some small, some embarrassing (there's a scene where Clair tortures Delaney with boiling water and it's clear I had never boiled water before). And, significant to me, there is a lack of thematic complexity compared to my other works, with long parts of the story that aren't interested in meaning anything at all, at least overtly.

That last part might not really be a flaw, though. There is a singleminded focus on plot and character in Fargo, prompted perhaps by the unconscious way I wrote it, that was a major driver of its success. Nobody has ever complained about the continuity errors, either. At the end of the day, people might care a lot more about what comes from the heart, rather than what comes from the mind.

I'm glad, though, to be writing this retrospective on the heels of When I Win, an assiduously structured work with a lot of deliberate thematic potency that managed to achieve similar levels of success as Fargo. For a long time Fargo was a millstone around my neck. What I once looked at as the start of my literary rise started to seem like its peak. This work that I, its author, so poorly understood, could not replicate even when I tried, and yet was by far my most popular story... It was a terrifying prospect for a long time. Though a lot of detail in this regard should probably be saved for if I write a Making Of post for Chicago in the future. (Side note: Despite the prominent role Cicero and the Chicagoans play in the final arc of Fargo, with their own unresolved theater of worldbuilding, I had no intention of writing a Fargo sequel until after the "commercial failure" of Modern Cannibals.)

Even at the depths of my self-esteem, though, I never resented Fargo or its success. It's a story I like. It's a story with a lot to like about it. And, even if I don't fully understand it, it's a story that has a lot of myself in it.

Thank you, everyone, for reading.

The concept art throughout this post was created by Phetaritette, from whom a fan once commissioned art of the main characters. At the end of the Making Of posts for Cleveland Quixotic and When I Win, I talked about where I got the names of the characters from, but other than the two Pokémon gym leader names and Henrik Ibsen reference I mentioned before, most of the names in this story were dredged from people I once knew. The only other exceptions are Erika's surname, which comes from Frank "Doc" DuFresne from Red vs. Blue; Bloomington's surname, which comes from rapper Dennis "Ghostface Killah" Coles (who would be the primary template for the rapper Malkwon in Modern Cannibals); and Hennepin's surname, which comes from League of Legends pro player Johnny "Altec" Ru.

[badasoneandonly]

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 || 𝘏𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘐𝘯-𝘩𝘰 × 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Wc: 872

Summary:

Haunted by memories of a love that once felt unbreakable, Y/N retraces the steps of her past with Hwang In-Ho, only to face him unexpectedly. His eyes beg for a second chance, but she walks past him, her heart shattered yet resolute. As he watches her disappear, both are left drowning in the pain of what could have been, bound forever by the love they lost.

GENRE: POST BREAKUP, REMINISCING OLD TIMES, HEARTBREAK, SAD LOVE, REGRET, ANGST

A/n: Another heartbreaking one since i love sad fanfiction :))

The autumn chill clung to the air, scattering golden leaves across the streets of Seoul. Y/N tightened her scarf around her neck, her steps slow and deliberate as she wandered through the places they had once shared. It had been months since the breakup, but the memories still lingered, sharp and unforgiving.

Every corner of the city seemed to remind her of him—of Hwang In-Ho.

The coffee shop on the corner where she used to wait for him after his long shifts. She could still hear his tired laugh, see the way he brushed his hair back with that lopsided smile.

The park bench beneath the ginkgo tree where they had spent lazy afternoons, her head resting on his shoulder while he read aloud from books she’d picked out for him.

The quiet bookstore where they had spent hours flipping through novels, laughing over the absurdity of titles neither of them intended to buy.

Each step felt heavier than the last. She hadn’t come here to torment herself, or so she told herself. But these places were pieces of her, of them, and she wasn’t ready to let them go completely.

Finally, she stopped in front of a small alley lit by strings of fairy lights. The faint hum of music and laughter spilled out from the cozy bar at its end—their bar.

It was here he had laughed so freely, his deep chuckle warming her heart. It was here he had held her hand so tightly, as though she were the only thing grounding him. It was here he had kissed her for the first time, his hands trembling as they cupped her face, the world around them blurring into nothing but him.

"'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night..."

The lyrics played softly in her mind, the ache in her chest matching the sorrowful melody. She closed her eyes, letting the memory wash over her before taking a deep breath and turning to leave.

And then she saw him.

Hwang In-Ho.

He stood a few steps away, leaning against a streetlamp at the edge of the alley. His dark coat framed him like a shadow, his hands buried in his pockets. His eyes, however, burned with recognition and longing.

For a moment, the world stopped. Her heart seized in her chest, and the months of pain and separation collapsed into a single instant.

They had once been everything to each other. He had been her home, her anchor. She had been his light in the dark. But now, there was only silence, only distance.

He took a hesitant step forward as if to speak, his lips parting to say her name.

But she didn’t stop.

Without a word, she adjusted her scarf, straightened her shoulders, and walked past him as though he were a stranger.

Every step felt like a knife twisting in her chest, but she refused to look back. She had given him her everything—her love, her trust, her heart. He had left her in pieces, and now all she could do was protect what little remained.

---

In-Ho watched her walk away, his breath caught in his throat, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

She was as beautiful as he remembered, but there was a distance to her now—a wall he had built between them when he let her go.

He hadn’t come here by accident. Maybe some part of him had hoped to find her, to revisit the places where their love had once burned so brightly. But seeing her now, he was struck by the depth of his own regret.

Every memory came flooding back: her laugh, the way she teased him, the way she’d hold his hand as though she’d never let go. She had made him believe, if only for a moment, that he was worth saving. And yet, he had pushed her away.

He told himself it had been for her own good. His life had always been messy, dangerous—a darkness he didn’t want to pull her into. But now, as he watched her fade into the distance, he realized just how wrong he had been.

Her eyes had met his for only a moment, and he thought she might say something—his name, a goodbye, anything. But she hadn’t. She had walked past him, her gaze fixed forward as though he no longer existed.

He wanted to call out to her, to beg her to stop, to tell her he still loved her. But the words caught in his throat, weighted down by the guilt and sorrow of his choices.

As her figure disappeared into the night, In-Ho felt the hollow ache of his regret consume him. He had made his choice, and now she had made hers.

But even as the echoes of her footsteps faded, one thought remained:

He would remember her, and what they had, all too well.

A/n: so how was it, i hope it was to ur likinggg ^_^ and yes there will be more angsty romances (since its my fav)

Tags: @xcinnamonmalfoyx @warlabels

[susiekern]

10. the one with the talk

warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual activities

word count: 838 (it's short, sorry)

masterlist

previous | next

You’ve spent the last half an hour pacing around the hotel room, head filled with nervous thoughts. Terrified of the conversation that will probably happen in a few minutes and a little mad. But you’re not sure if the latter is directed at Megumi or yourself. This talk should’ve taken place a long time ago, and while you knew why you hadn’t started it, why didn’t he?

Did he have different reasons than your own? What if for him it was just a way to get something without any strings attached? But if that’s the case, would he act like he did this morning? Or talk to you in general? Usually, one-night stands or fuck buddies don’t cuddle after they’re done, don’t talk about their day, or spend time together outside of the bed in general, right? So many questions and not even one solid answer.

“Hey.” You are so lost in thoughts, you don’t even notice when Megumi enters the room and stands in the doorway. He looks tired, and his voice is a little raspy, but you blame it on the day with his family. He mentioned they were quite tiring before.

“Hey.” Your response is almost shy as you stop pacing and look at him.

“How was the event? And the concert?”

“Good. Yeah, it was good. I’ve met some followers at the expo, and The Fallen were amazing, like always.” You answer, watching as he slides his jacket off and hangs it over the chair that’s next to the big window. “We should talk.”

Megumi smirks hearing the sudden confidence behind these words and nods.

“Yeah, I think so.” There’s a tension in the room when you both sit at the edge of the bed, facing each other. “I’ll start. Just… let me finish before you say anything, okay?”

“Sure.” You nod and put your hands on your lap to stop yourself from fidgeting.

“I never wanted this to play out like that. When we met, I should’ve apologized for how my words came out; it wasn’t my intention to sound rude or hostile. Then it gave me some weird satisfaction, fighting with you, but I didn’t realize why until that night at Supernova. When you get excited or angry, your eyes glisten, and there are so many emotions on your face, it makes me feel alive in a way. Kind of like when I’m making music. It’s almost addicting. And after Supernova I’ve realized we don’t need to fight to get it, because every time I kiss you, it’s there too. Then we started meeting on the roof, and I don’t even know when you broke your way into my mind. I don’t know when I started caring and falling for you, y/n. You got me addicted, and I don’t want to let go; I don’t want it to end. And if you let me, I’ll try to show you what it means to me.”

For a second or two, all you can hear is your heartbeat. It’s racing, trying to escape your chest like it wants you to give it to Megumi. Funny, because it feels like you’ve already done it. His eyes didn’t leave yours for even a moment, and there’s sincerity and hope glistening in them.

Once before, you thought about how they remind you of a forest you could get lost in. You don’t know when, but you did. And there’s no escape route; you wouldn’t use it anyway.

“I’d let you do anything, Megumi, even break me. ‘Cause I have no idea when I started falling either. But suddenly you were on my mind almost constantly, and as much as it was infuriating, it felt right too. Fuck, even at the date with Yuta I couldn’t help but compare him to you, and it was just nice because his smile and touch didn’t make my body and mind stupid like yours do. I’ve never felt that way about someone, and I think I’d regret it if we didn’t at least try to figure it out.” Your voice and hands are trembling from emotions. Are you nervous? It doesn’t matter, because when Megumi takes your hand in his and smiles at you, it’s gone. The only thing left is the peace and overwhelming comfort you find in this small smile.

“So, should we try?” He asks, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, let’s try.”

For now, it’s enough. Trying is more than you could’ve asked for, and it seems you’re both content with that. You spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms, either talking or lying in comfortable silence, taking in the warmth and comfort of being with the other person. Once in a while, Megumi gives you a soft kiss on the lips or the top of your head, whispering gentle words. Barely awake at this point, you catch a few that make your heart clench.

“You’re like a rain that washes my heart of the dust and salt, dear.”

tag list (lmk if you wanna be added!): @nytylie @fresa-luna @syrooo @zaranobiyuyu @jvpit3rr @pandabiene5115 @good-mourning0 @pearlydays @irwinchester @pxppetmxster @ivydoesit23 @zayuriluvs

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my partner not to interrupt me while I'm streaming?

Asking on here because she has Reddit and I don't want to upset her further while I ask for an outside consensus.

I stream video game content as a profession. Playthroughs, mods, tutorials, reviews, ect. I found streaming to be more profitable than pre-filmed video content. I'd say on average I can "work" for 10 - 30 hours a week.

She works on an alternating schedule where she does a week of full time hours then a week of part time hours. All in all, we work pretty reasonable hours between us, I feel, and we are agreeably not lacking in spending time together.

We routinely go on dates, we more often than not have dinner together, and I typically don't stream for more than 2-4 hours consecutively, so its not as if I'm locked up in my office for the majority of the time.

However over the last few months my partner has developed the habit of simply walking in whenever I'm streaming and starting up random conversations with me, playing her own games loudly in the background, constantly interrupting me to read out chat comments or ask questions about the game, ect.

Sometimes it isn't so bad, but generally its pretty disruptive. I wouldn't mind if it was just occasionally or if she just popped in now and then, but its grown to the point where its almost every single stream and I've noticed I've lost a handful of frequent viewers over it.

It came to an unpleasant confrontation over the weekend, when I was streaming a highly requested tutorial walkthrough for a recently released game and she decided to come in, try to sit on my lap and start a conversation about a client's dogs she met today.

I was trying to figure out a polite way to ask her to give me another 40 minutes so I could finish the quest line and shut it down for the day when two people in the chat began to make jokes about how she never leaves me alone and said it 'gave cam check vibes.'

I pretended not to notice, but she did, and clearly it hurt her feelings and she mumbled about having some things to do and left. I felt awful that her feelings were hurt so I closed the stream early and went to find her.

She was pretty upset about the comments and tried to get me to validate that she wasn't disruptive or unwelcome. I assured her that I don't mind the occasional visit or if she wants to play her own games in the background on mute/low volume/with earphones in, but that I have actually been meaning to ask her to give me a little more curtesy when I'm streaming because its hard to have dynamic engagement when I can't actually talk to anyone because she's talking non-stop or her own game volume is distorting the sound.

I tried to say it as gently as possible but it was clear that the more we discussed it, the more upsetting it was for her. She called time on the conversation by abruptly saying she'll just 'never so much as walk past the door' when I'm streaming, and that she didn't want to talk about it anymore.

She was only working a half-day today and I was streaming between mid-day and the early afternoon. When I said goodbye to her this morning she made sure to somewhat sarcastically assure me that she wouldn't dare interrupt my stream today, and she hoped it went well.

She refused to discuss it further when she came home, or over dinner, and since dinner she's shut herself in the conservatory and has been on the phone to a friend.

I'd like to discuss it further because I'm discontent with her being upset about it, but I'm also not particularly agreeable with me being in the wrong here. Streaming is my job. We pay equal expenses, so its not as if this is just a silly little fake job or hobby for me while she foots the bills. I rely on viewers to get paid, and when quite a few of them leave because I've had to stop playing for 20 minutes to listen to her chat, it could negatively impact my ability to bring home a reasonable contribution.

Ordinarily we can resolve any conflicts or disagreements quickly and fairly. We've never been the sort of couple to spend days being passive aggressive or refusing to talk.

With her being so resolute in being upset and not communicating, I'm at a loss for if I'm actually in the wrong or not for asking her to be more mindful of interrupting me and causing disruptions while I'm working.

What are these acronyms?

[sleepingnova]

AJJJJJJJH

Hai :)

Me is excited for event

Ducky would like to request Oikawa x reader escaping the heat by snuggling up inside with a cold treat!

I shall leave song up to your choosing. Put me on peak please, Maestro.

FANK YEW :3333

Hey, Lover.

Now Playing: Headsprung (LL COOL J)

“What about this one, babe? I’m trying to look somewhat decent for the pool.” You stood from the entrance to the living room in yet another bathing suit. It had been about an hour and you had tried on at least 10 he thinks. He lost count after the olive green one with the black flowers on it; that one made him stop and stare for a second because holy shit, you were breath-taking.

“I think it looks great, honey.”

“You’re not even looking. Okay, so you think I look like a hippo and I should die. Got it.”

“That’s not what I said, don’t piss me off.” Sometimes his sarcasm and monotone voice makes you stop because it sounds real, then almost as if he was reading your mind, he softens subtly.

“Basically what you said. You called me an inverted ass bitch and told me to shut my big fat lipped having ass mouth.”

“Okay, first off, I have half a mind to rip it off you. Don’t get it twisted; keep talking and we’ll see where you end up in like,” He paused to check his watch. “Five minutes.” He replied nonchalantly, finally pausing to look up at you from his phone. It’s not that he was being an ass, he would never. Not to you, at least, but he wasn’t focused on you at that moment. He had recently gotten his tongue pierced, and now its healing stage has passed, so he gets to have fun with it.

“Okay, well, just pick one for me to wear to the pool.”

“Wear whatever you want, sweetheart. I’ll be the center of attention anyway because I’m that much of a showstopper.” That made you roll your eyes. Well, he was right. He was really fucking attractive. You must’ve had some sort of look on your face because he was staring you down, going over every single micro expression on you before curling his fingers at you.

“Come here.”

“Now I’m scared you’re going to do something.” You looked him up and down, carefully stepping towards him. You melted into his touch as soon as his hands wrapped around your wrists. His hands were already freezing, but the rings on his fingers were a different type of cold. It was a soft gesture as he pulled you in.

“Only if I have permission,” He chuckled, trying to ease your worries, wrapping his arm around your hip. “Speaking of, I have a crazy idea: how about let’s 86 the pool all together and just eat ice cream?” Truth be told, he didn’t care enough for the pool, he just didn’t want to be around the people at the pool. They were always causing problems and made the experience hell. Also, he was possessive as fuck, but he would never admit that out loud. He liked the idea of constantly having his hands on you. Not like that, but also, kinda like that.

“What?”

“Or we can go get lunch, go somewhere with a decent a/c, just something besides the pool. Hell, if you want to, I’ll get my camera and take photos of you trying on all those bathing suits.”

“You weren’t even looking the first time, dickhead.”

“Yes, I was.”

“How many have I tried on, including the one I have on now?”

“At least ten.” His answer was so confident, so sassy that it made you laugh, burying your face into him.

“Eight. Nice try, though.” He rolled his eyes, groaning into his hands before wrapping you into a hug, pulling you into his lap.

“Come on, babe, seriously, what do you want to do?”

“Whatever you want to do.” He kissed your forehead, burying his face into your neck. The next few minutes were met with a peaceful silence as he breathed you in. Then, you got up, which made him whine.

“Did you want that ice cream?”

“If you don’t mind?”

“There’s a tub in the freezer, grab it and some spoons while I change out of this.” He hummed, leaving you to go change. He was eating when you came back, letting his piercing glide lines into the ice cream on the spoon.

“I love the piercing on you. It suits you.”

“You think? Hajime was dogging on it and I asked him if he was jealous because I can’t pour honey on him and lick him all over. He called me a lot of things before he hung up. That was two weeks ago and he still isn’t speaking to me.” His casual tone made you stop. Once he finished, you burst into a fit of laughter, leaning against the wall as you clutched your stomach. He quirked an eyebrow at you, asking if you were done, before continuing to eat.

“Extend the olive branch,” You got out in between your laughs. “Hit him up and ask if he wants to come chill over here.”

“He might say yes because you’re asking.”

“He likes me more.” Your laughs always made him feel something warm and fuzzy in his chest; it was contagious. When his cold hands wrapped around your hot skin, finding purchase around your waist to make you squirm. He laughed against you, pulling you into a loving kiss, his hip pinning you against the counter.

Moments like these were the best. Between traveling and touring South America, it was nice to be reminded that even though he was a volleyball star, he still kept you at the center. His everything, his why he woke up and kept pushing every morning.

“To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides.”

[changingplumbob]

Honey, I'm home!

TLDR: I'm back. Incoming reblogs. Normal posting resumes 21st at 9am NZDT (GMT+13).

My cat summary, tales of travel woe and random trip tidbits below.

Cat! The cat survived the cattery. Apparently she wasn't eating too much and just stayed in her cage area (I say cage but it was a neat two level set up, she had an individual food bowl, litter tray and cat bed). She's lost a bit of weight so she'll be getting bigger feeds the next few days. She's periodically patrolling the house and hiding in my bed which is fair.

Travel! So our first bus was running late. Trying to make up for it the bus sped over the hill. Imagine sitting sideways on a bus with a large suitcase as the bus quickly drives a winding downhill road. So fun right (sarcasm is heavy here). We made the train but halfway through the trip it stopped and sat for 10 minutes because of an "incident" (yeah I'm curious to). Bus from train station to airport was fine but the baggage check in went down just as we reached it. Then the plane was delayed by about half and hour. Fast forward to this morning. Checking in at the airport early to discover our 8:15am flight was cancelled because the aircraft was damaged overnight. They put us in a van for a nice hour and a half trip along a sometimes empty, sometimes standstill motorway. At the new airport we checked in fine, but what do you know the plane home was delayed. Hour delay this time. Eventually back home, took the airport bus to the train station no problem. What do you know, the train line was having errors and replacement buses were running instead. At the home train station we just gave up and got a taxi to the vets, and then home.

Wedding! It was nice, my cousin and his bride were so damn happy. It was in a place called the Tree Church where the structure is actually made out of shrubs so it's like getting married in a church made out of nature. The sun was shining and she walked down the isle to an instrumental of Taylor Swift - Wildest Dreams. Her dress was gorgeous, their vows were sweet and I was sitting in an aisle seat so got to throw flower petals over them as they walked up the aisle together. Then (remember I'm in summer people) they had an ice cream truck after a champagne toast and they had vegan ice cream!!!

Reception! It was at a vineyard and half the area had trellises with grapes growing above you. There was so much food, and some vegan stuff! Because my cousin has a large family (lots of aunts and uncles) I was the only cousin from our branch. But you know when the band started playing ABBA I had to get up and dance with my aunts because how can you not dance to Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (Man After Midnight)? I sang along, loudest to Love Story obviously.

Tea Ceremony! So my cousin's wife (is she my cousin in law now? IDK), her parents are Chinese and came to NZ before she was born. She had lots of family fly over from China and Canada and they brought her and my cousin these beautiful red robes for a tea ceremony. Basically it allows the married couple to honour their elders by serving them tea. The couple also get money and jewellery from elders. Apparently all the Cantonese speaking relatives told them they hoped to see a grandchild next year, no pressure cousin.

Internet! As some of you probably realised the air bnb had wifi so I was able to keep up on some people's posts. But because I'm an overthinker I wanted to keep my post about going away near the top of my blog. I'm now going to blog some things I wanted to reblog during the 5 days which you may well have already seen but I want to reblog anyway to show support.

Me! This whole thing has been about me but anyway, I am very sleep deprived. I was not sleeping well before we left. The house we were staying was so creeky I barely slept while we were there. So I'm going to do extra rambles because that's what happens when I'm tired. Thank you for a couple of sunflowers today, with my travel chaos I needed them. I keep them in my inbox for low days but appreciate it beyond measure. I'm going to try get to my asks today but sleep may claim me first. The favourite facts are coming I promise! Lastly check out this puzzle that I was fiddling with intermittently for 3 days. I can't believe I eventually solved it!

[grimecrow]

What's Messier? Scream VI Or My Relationship With It? And Why My Love For It Is A Good Thing.

Just to let both fans and detractors know that I will be talking about the bad of this movie, then give it my rating, then talk about the good.

So there are some things that stood out to me as problems with the movie: - the pacing feels off from the moment the movie starts till it ends. It felt like listening to a standard 4/4 pop song being played at 3/4. - it felt like the people who made the movie took the second best take for every scene to use - there are numerous small things that don't make sense, a spoiler free example being Gale having a security swipe card she can't possibly have nor get. - the end reveal may be one of the most convoluted and honestly silly things I have encountered in movies. Yes including movies that people shot in a day on their phones and passed off as found footage films. I think we can all agree that piled all of this piled together should make for one terrible film right? So what rating did I give the movie when it was over? (Please note I say this as someone who never watched Scream 4 or 5, doesn't like Scream 1 due to over exposure, nor 2 or 3 and only really enjoyed season one of the TV series but not season two.) 10/10. A movie that has found itself in my top 20 favorite movies list and may end up in my top 10. Why? How can that be? First I want to say that this is a visually spectacular movie.

Who ever designed the visuals of this thing was a genius. Not only the big visual eye candy moments like above but for the entirety of the film. I'm gonna use this word a lot but a great way to describe the look of this film is consistent. Regardless of where the scene is, time of day, what's happening, it all feels like the same time and world as every other scene if that makes sense? But what about it's flaw? The ones I mentioned above? The pacing is consistent from the opening few seconds to the finale few seconds and while it was jarring at first you just get used to it after a bit. It's a fast pace movie; even it's quiet moments are short but effective without breaking the tempo. I don't know what the reason was with the decisions made that lead me to say they all had that 'second best take' quality but the roughness that actors have make the characters feel much more real and give a validity to the situations they find themselves in. Everything is manic and messy because what's happening is manic and messy. All those little plot holes and the convoluted ending? Because they happened with such consistency they stopped standing out as much. Also, when they happened they were always feeding what was coming next which usually ended up being a major visual feast. In the example Gale having the keycard to get into the place she did the next lead to an amazing reveal. This movie has a run time of two hours and five minutes and I was not bored for a single, solitary second. When it came to scenes I thought my friends should see there are so many they may as well watch the movie and I have told them as such. I know that this is a movie I will be able to put on at any time whether to sit down and watch it, or as something to have on in the background and still not be bored for a single second. Despite knowing the mystery already, and the movies flaws. I honestly would say it's the Jason X of the Scream franchise.

So why is my insane and messy love of this insane and messy movie a good thing? Cause the world is dark and full of terrors. There are horrors happening now, and more imminently on the horizon from my time of writing this in November of 2024. There is going to be a lot of bad, and a lot of fighting that will have to be done before things get good again. So this movie showing me that I haven't lost the ability yet to look at the positives of things of something, to find joy despite all the real world darkness threatening to smother me every second of every day no matter where I go or what I do is in fact a sign of hope. Scream VI gives me hope, a reminder that joy can be found and experienced. It's existence keeps apathy at bay. Which, once the ending credits start to roll, keeps me willing to get up and fight the real monsters in our lives. Make sure as things get darker, you allow yourself to experience joy, to enjoy yourself, and to remember to love the things you love. Apathy is the weapon they will use to crush us, so don't let it crush you.

[alolanroy]

2024 Watch Thread-Part 3

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/alolanroy/743462089395470336/2024-watch-thread-part-2?source=share

Lensman (anime): Sometimes lost media is bad. I'm glad it was found, but it still wasn't good 3/10

Attack of the Killer Tomatoes: It got a few sensible chuckles out of us, but I'm glad they figured out how to make comedies funny after this. 5/10

Zombie vs Ninja (aka The Undertaker of Sohwa Provence). A South Korean parody of Chinese Kung-fu movies billed as ninjas for the US market. Imagine a turducken if every layer was racism. -5/10

Star Wars Jedi: Survivor: While my PC and Unreal were fighting for their lives, this janky game blew me away. Rarely do we get sequels that truly feel iterative, let alone head and shoulders better than their predecessors. It continually fed me new toys and mechanical twists. I think I'll remember this as both a fun action game and as an outstanding metroidvania. It made me remember that I liked Star Wars, and for that I am thankful. 9/10

Protodoid Delta: I see what they are trying to do here, but it just wasn't fun. just a lot of generic platforming and combat that didn't feel right. Weak buster shots and a three-hit melee I didn't find reliable do not a combat system make. 3/10

Blades: Not quite funny enough for the comedic premise, but for my friends who hadn't seen jaws, it still was enough of a thriller to hold their interests -5/10

Monster Squad: I feel like if this came out when I was a kid, this would have been my favorite movie of all time. The fun monster madness and tone was almost enough to distract me from how the horrible pan'n'scan always found a way to crop out the black buddy-cop, even when he was the one speaking. 7/10

Star Wars The Bad Batch: In all fairness, I stopped only a few episodes in, but this just felt like Dave Filloni playing with his action figures. No real tension, just a parade of his OCs talking to each other, mostly with the same voice. I don't really care to find out if it gets better, because all I've seen is people get excited that more characters from Clone Wars show up. I want a good show, not reminders of a good show. 4/10

Goldeneye: I'm glad Bond isn't quite as brutish with women as the franchise was historically, but while watching it with someone who had never seen a Bond movie before, it occurred to me how strange this movie is without the context it is trying to respond to. 6/10

Battle Star Wars: There wasn't much battle or wars in this one. The stars were allright, but I would've preferred maybe some different hallways or a second hill in the California desert. Hell, I think a second jpeg of the Earth might've gone along way. Besides one of the most funny-bad costumes I've ever seen, this was utterly forgettable. -2/10

Gundam Seed Freedom: This might actually be the most frustrating movie I have ever seen. It made me so mad that I, no joke, walked out to the lobby and stared at an arcade machine to cool off. The writing on display is insanely bad. The first half hour is a sequence of scenes where characters state their thoughts and exposit about a fanfiction-tier plot that barely makes sense. If you liked the cuck arc from Seed Destiny, you will love this movie. It doubles down on the concentric melodrama to a point where everyone has to just be cartoonishly mean-spirited and has the same ending as Destiny, down to the macguffin. 0/10

The Intruder (1962): The day of Roger Corman's passing, this film came up a few times. I took a chance and within a minute and a half I knew this would be a winner. I've never seen a film more quickly and elegantly set up that a character might as well be the devil. Shatner is absolutely fucking evil in this role and it is GREAT. The more I read about this film the more ballsy I realize it was. allegedly this was filmed using mostly actual locals given a watered-down script. All those teens actually went through integration the year before. absolutely wild. 10/10

The Last Man on Earth (1964): Wow, I can't belive that Will Smith Movie 'I am Legend' ripped this off. *Checks Wikipedia* Oh. 7/10

Vikingdom: When people say that a movie feels like a videogame, Ithink this is what they should mean. I would describe it as Jason and the Argonauts by way of a ps3 action game. Cheap as hell, but willing to go hard at random intervals. Shoutout to the sequence in the land of the dead. 6/10

The Cat Who Wore Sunglasses: I'm no expert on Czec new wave cinema, but I think that this was pretty neat. However, I'm not sure that it really fit the mood of a Costco Pizza movie night. 7/10

Dragonball: The Magic Begins: This movie is a laugh-riot mix of good wuxia action and bursts of some laughable CG...until it slows to a crawl at Kame House for like and hour and kills all its energy. The remaster they had on Amazon was gorgeous, but uncanny since these movies aren't usually accessible in any quality. The funniest takeaway was that the production interpreted anime hair as an 80s hong kong action lady perm, so Goku ended up looking a little they/them. -7/10

Blood of Zeus Season 2: I feel as though I can't speak for it much since this is clearly part 1 of a two part story, but it certainly is cut from the Castlevania mold. It does have better forward momentum than its predecessors, but the main party feels almost auxiliary to the other plotlines. I kinda forgot what they were supposed to be doing. 6/10

Everyone is in LA: I don't think the first batch of guests really grabbed me. If this ever got the chance to 'get good' they might be on to something. 4/10

Teldryn Serious: I get what they were going for, but it didn't really work for me. On the literal side, the quest objectives for the last third broke for me. Otherwise, I felt kind of confused because I guessed what was going on before I was supposed to, so I wasn't sure why the story hadn't caught up. 4/10

The Fall of the House of Usher: I think a lot of Japanese RPGMaker and VNs owe Poe and Corman money. Entertaining, but not mind-blowing 7/10

A.D. Police: It had some real cool energy and episodes, but its sure...uh... ended. 7/10

Gundam Twilight Axis: This is a prime example of the cutoff point between a series of scenes and a story 3/10

Skyrim-Mirai: I won't judge this too harshly since I really do feel teenage wish-fulfilment radiating off of this mod. When it clicked for me that Mirai has essentially the same narrative as Serana, and the romance post-game is longer than her main quest...I knew I had to meet it it's level. Not sure I like her ambiguous age, but I chalk it up to harmless fanfiction cringe. 6/10

Jiu Jitsu: With a little editing, this could have been an all-timer martial arts vs. predator mashup movie with a cool alien costume. Nick Cage is in it for a surprising amount and the martial arts is shot pretty fun. Sadly the movie as it exists starts off poorly and gives the impression that the movie is less ambitious than it might actually be. As a result I tuned out for the first half. 4/10

Dick Tracey: The funny makeup and production design does its best, but the awful pacing kneecaps the flow it has at the start. 4/10

Year One: uuugh -3/10

Wizards of the Lost Kingdom: We really had to make our own fun on this one. Except that gnomes, those were great -4/10

Jack-Of-All-Trades!? A Day in the Life of Master Micchi: The geats cast really is at its best once the series is over. These characters are just funny to follow around without the end of the world looming. 5/10

Kamen Rider Geats: 4 Aces and the Black Fox: This would have scored a full point higher if the main villains weren't a greasy discord mod/discord kitten pair that just did not fit the sick recolor of Geats 9. The brief pre-production view of Gotchard made me sad about what we ended up getting. 5.5/10

Kamen Rider The Winter Movie: Gotchard & Geats Strongest Chemy★Great Gotcha Operation: I know getting turned into a marketable plushie is a meme and all, but this was hilarious. Until it turns into a generic Rider movie in the last third, the puppets are funny as hell and the Geats cast shines so well against the mildness of the chemies. 6/10

[rawrki]

attention, please!

pairing boyfriend!riki x gn!reader genre fluff! teeny tiny bit of angst! reader had a tough day :( riki was being mean but redeemed himself afterwards (self aware king!)

wc 760+

a/n when will i write something that isn't about riki? probably never... he's on my mind 24/7

"riki"

no response.

"rikii" you tried again, looking up at him and poking his arm.

he makes a noncommittal noise and refuses to stop his game.

"nishimura riki if you don't reply me i'm breaking up with you"

"as if" you see him roll his eyes as he responds smugly.

he had texted you to come over to his place to cuddle but when you arrived half an hour ago he was lying on his bed playing call of duty mobile and hadn't given you any attention since. he kept saying "last round" but he had played 2 "last" rounds since then.

you were upset as you just wanted his attention and for him to cuddle like he said you would!

sighing in resignation, you roll over to face the opposite direction and shove your head into the pillow. after a few moments of silence, riki finally speaks to you properly.

"y/n," riki calls your name.

still feeling upset from what he had been doing (or rather not doing) you decided to ignore him.

"y/nnn baby"

the pout on his face is evident through his voice but you refuse to give in. he had ignored you for 30 minutes! and you were genuinely upset. why would he focus on his stupid game when you were right there and he was the one who called you over in the first place!

"love, you aren't actually upset right?"

stupid men, you thought. of course you were upset! you made the entire trip to his house (it was only a 10 minute walk but still!) and he didn't want to give you the cuddles he had promised. not to mention you had a long day but you still obliged his request to come over.

unbeknownst to you, slow tears trickled down you face as you were lost in thought. riki leaned over to look at your face and made an alarmed noise.

"y/n are you okay?? i'm so sorry! i switched off my phone i promose. i didn't mean to ignore you, i should've paid attention to you. please forgive me? y/n?" he panicked and apologised profusely and turned you over to engulf you in a hug and look down at your face.

"huh?" you were confused by his sudden change in demeanour until he started wiping the tears on your cheeks away with his palms. his hands covered both sides of your face as he continued to wipe away the tears.

"i'm sorry y/n i didn't mean it. i got carried away! the new skin just came out and i really wanted to grind for it... please forgive me?" he tried again, looking at you with his puppy eyes. how could you not forgive him when he was so cute?

you huffed for the nth time that night and just shoved your face into his chest while hugging him tighter. after a moment, you felt his hands rub up and down your back soothingly.

"are you okay baby? i'm sorry for making you cry," he said gently. you shook your head against his chest.

"s'not your fault. rough day," you mumbled out, sighing and relaxing into his embrace.

"i'm sorry, it's still my fault. i wasn't paying attention to you," he murmured into your hair before planting a kiss on your forehead.

"apology accepted only if you give me a kiss," you tilt your head upwards in anticipation, eyes still shut.

"of course love, you didn't have to ask," he replies with a small giggle, giving you a peck on the lips. before you can ask for another one, riki began to plant kisses on your nose, cheeks, eyelids, and all over your face. the two of you ended up giggling and you open one eye to look at him. you startled slightly at his proximity before smiling and pecking him on the lips.

"okay, you're forgiven i guess," you tell him with feigned reluctance.

"you guess??" riki says incredulously, his eyes widening.

"what do you mean you guess."

"don't do it again. next time, the consequences will be dire," you joke.

"yes ma'am," he salutes and you slap his arm weakly at his antics.

riki pulls you in for another right hug and both of you spend the rest of the night talking about each other's days.

there was no place more comfortable to lie in than in his arms.

[x-candy-guts-x]

The way my puppy and cat play together makes me think of like the yautja children with the reader lol.

Previous

•After a few hours of playing and story telling what your most recent carvings were crock came over and ruffled your hair to grab your attention. Looking up at him he gestured for you to follow. It took a little while but with a small hovering vehicle of some sort the two of you reached the city. He decided today he would bring you there for a day out and maybe get you a few things to help you feel comfortable in your new home.

•many yautja lined the streets and even a few different alien races. One shop was selling meat that had been precut and even some dried.

•he got you what looked like a kabob of sorts

• “why is it SPICY”

•for a moment you lost your yautja. You were left in the middle of a busy street with aliens all around and you felt like a kid who lost their parent.

•meanwhile the yautja you had come to know and call crock was at a booth looking at some knives. He found a few and bought them. When he’d turned around you were gone. Panic set in as he whipped around looking for you. He put his mask on and began trying to get to higher ground. Up on a building he could see you much easier with his mask but getting you to stay in one place long enough for him to get back down and make his way to you was a problem withen itself.

•somehow you had managed to wind up a whole mile away from where he was. It took him about 10 minutes but he did find you. And oh boy..

•a big yautja had bumped into you and was now making a scene about this “stray” who shouldn’t be here. He picked you up by your throat and hoisted you up. His grip got tighter and tighter until you started to see black dots in your vision. Then you got an idea. He wasn’t wearing a mask luckily so you swung your legs up and slammed them down into the crook of his elbow. This made his arm bend and you headbutt him with the force of a pachycephalosaurs. A more recent carving of yours-.

•this made him let go of you as he stumbled back. He had what would be the equivalent of a bloody nose on a human, only he didn���t really have a nose so it was just broken skin. You gasped for air and went to stand up but as you did you felt a tremendous force knock the wind out of you. A big clawed foot kicked you square in the chest and sent you back a few feet. By now a crowd had formed.

•crock ran down the street trying to get to where you were hoping he’d get there before any serious damage was caused. Unfortunately the crowd blocked his path to you so he had to try and find a way around.

•coughing you stood up again. The yautja responsible for the assault let out what you could only assume was a laugh. It was more of a rapid clicking. You wanted to get out of there but there was no way out. The eight foot crab face retracted out his wrist blade and got ready to attack but was stopped. Another yautja, a bigger one with a lot more spikes and wrinkles grabbed his arm and ripped it back. “Do you not see she is unarmed?”

•the younger slightly smaller one looked to the ground and pulled his blade back up his arm. “You.” The older one pointed. “Who is responsible for you?”

•you weren’t sure how to answer. You had a hard enough time pronouncing their language and you didn’t really know his real name. Luckily an arm shot up in the crowd. It parted for crock to walk up. “I am.”

• “see to it she doesn’t disrupt things again.” Crock nodded and gently grabbed you by the upper arm and pulled you away. “What happened?! Why did you run off? Do I need to put the collar back on you? You said you’d behave!” His voice was so loud to your small ears, You broke down in tears. He leaned back up. He was hunched over and in your face and didn’t even realize it. “I.. I’m sorry. I know your frightened right now.-“

• “I didn’t run off!” You screamed interrupting him. “I got lost! The crowd here is so busy! And you disappeared! I tried to find you but I couldn’t!”

•the two of you remained still for a moment. He could tell you were being genuine. So instead of speaking he took the hair in your face and pushed it back. There was a cut on your forehead that was bleeding and a few around your neck from where the other yautjas claws had dug in. The bruising that was yellowed and nearly completely healed was now a terrible purplish and much worse than before. He used his mask to make sure nothing was broken and then he gently took your hand and guided you out of the city in a less busy rout.

•it was a mistake bringing you to a busy city for your first outing. He realized that now. He should have tried a small town first or maybe even just around his village and the surrounding area. When things were nearly dead he sat you down outside of a shop and told you to STAY PUT. You did and when he came out he held a furry little creature. Handing it to you he grabbed your free hand and the two of you walked back to the alien vehicle.

•once seating you saw how familiar the creature was. It didn’t have any tusks but it was fuzzy, black and definitely vaguely pig shaped.

•once you guys were back and inside the home you let the pig down and the little yautja-who you started calling Tim, ran up and hugged the little piglet. He was so excited he started bouncing up and down and running all about. Over near a table crock opened up a bag and pulled out a few things. Some soft fabric. Some carving and cutting tools and a bunch of what looked like string. He handed you the tools. They were for carving! And there was one blade that wasn’t. It had detailed engravings on its blade and handle and was the perfect size for you. “To defend yourself.” He gestures to you.

• “thank you.” You put the blade through your belt and sat down at the table to examine all the little carving tools. There was even paint to go with it.

•while you busied yourself he brought the fabric and such to his room and began to work. It was night before you saw him again. He made some dinner and you showed off your latest carving which now had moving parts and paint. This one was a velociraptor. The feathered kind and it’s legs and arms could move. It’s tail was carved similar to the wooden snake toys pretty much all kids on earth had at some point that would move side to side and pinch the fuck out of your fingers if you weren’t careful. You chuckled at the memory and handed the colorful dino to Tim.

•he was most definitely spoilt now that he had you and his dad wrapped around his grubby little fingers. It’s ok though he was a super sweet kid.

•when you went to the room for bed you noticed your pile of pelts weren’t where you left them. Instead they were folded up and on the bed was a few articles of clothing. One looked like a gown of sorts for bed. It was light and similar to a tank top, just a bit longer to cover your butt. The others were,, how would you put it. Skimpy? But sturdy. One was a loincloth with a matching cropped tube top and the other was a cropped dark brown soft leather jacket. The colors were all various shades of brown and tan. You felt them and they were so soft. You decided to put on the gown and go to a mirror to see how it looked. When you did crock walked in.

•he approached but didn’t touch. “Fits well. Hopefully keep you cool on this hot planet.” He wasn’t going to admit it but he also liked how it showed your figure. He thought to himself over the course of the now roughly couple months you’ve been on the planet about you. Things about you. Your hair. Your skin. Your stature. Everything about you was.. for a lack of better words, cute. You reminded him of the baby pig. Not in a bad way. But you were soft, lovable, gentle, sweet, caring. But you could also be dangerous. He thought about the way that despite your fading consciousness you put up a fight against a being several times your strength and size. You made it bleed without a weapon.

• “you can sleep in my bed if you would like. It is more comfortable than the floor.” He climbed in and settled down. After a moment you joined. He was right. It was so much softer. A little weight could be felt at the foot of the bed. Tim and the baby pig curled up at your feet. Sighing you closed your eyes. ‘I could get used to this.’

[lovesbiggerthanpride]

more than words (Javier x F!Reader)

notes / warnings: married life, fluff, flirting, implied smut, pillow talk 

masterlist

You never were great at expressing yourself; there was irony in this statement. When it came to your demanding career, as a publicist, crafting sentences and phrases to get the job done weren't a problem. But with personal relationships, words had a way of failing you.

But when he came along, things began to change. You wanted to do better. To find those words that would solidify how much you care for him.

March 26th had become an important day on the calendar. The day you knew he was someone you wanted, no, needed in your life. The day you fell in love. Also the day he declared how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. It was routine to take the day off. He always lavished gifts on you, being the best boyfriend, fiancé, and now husband. But you knew you had to work harder, wanting to impress him, tell him, show him. Making sure he was aware of your gratitude.

As you were pressed against his warm and broad back, lightly running your fingernails on his arm, relishing that you both stayed in bed after 10, you offered a question that could lead anywhere. Open-ended, possibly frustrating.

"Do you know?"

"What?"

"Do you know?"

"Do I know what, honey?"

When you felt confident that the suspense of your teasing riddle had reached its zenith, you placed your chin on his shoulder. With a smirk, you whispered, "Do you know that I love you?"

Javier rolled onto his back, causing you to follow suit. When you returned to lay on your side, the brown eyes you adored were glued on you.

"Yes."

"Good.”

“Where is this coming from,” he asked, voice still rough after many hours of sleep. 

“I wanted to remind you. I love you."

"Thank you for telling me," he mirrored your position — head resting on the palm of your hand — "I love you too."

You didn't want to miss a second of being close to him. Touching his cheek, you guided his face towards your own, so tender kisses could be given. Starting slow, enjoying how your lips felt on his, and soon after, tongues beginning to play. Didn't matter if you kissed the night before or a few minutes earlier, each one was precious and felt like the first time.

That part was easy — exchanging words for action, and allowing natural instincts and attraction to take over. As much as he adored physical touch, you realized that wasn't his only preferred love language. Hearing that he was appreciated, being told how proud you were of him — that made a difference. You noticed the shift in mannerisms. He stood taller, smiled brighter. Nothing was fake. No fronts. All him, the real Javier.

"Hi."

"Hi," his low voice repeated warmly, reluctantly having to stop these kisses and warm caresses. Hands finding purchase on your sides, nose nuzzling your cheek and neck.

You sighed, loving this quiet time together. 

"Remember that house we rented? Hidden away from everything and everyone?”

"How could I forget? Best weekend ever. We must have fucked ten times.”

“Seven.”

Sitting up, he countered with a scoff, “I made you cum ten times.”

You could hear in his voice how proud he was to correct you. That man never forgot. While attempting to find a sassy comeback, heat was making its way up your body as those vivid memories flooded your senses.

“You just remembered those three, didn’t you?”

Javi winked and you were gone, lost in his smile again.

“Ok, back to what I was saying.” You lifted your hand to gently brush away the rogue brown lock that was sticking to his forehead.

He chuckled, seeing how distracted you were. “Mmhmm. What made you think of that?”

“You have one hour to pack. We're going back."

"What?"

Amused by his raised eyebrows and dropped jaw, you confirmed, "Yes."

"No work?"

"None," you squeezed his arm, before rising from bed.

It was difficult to get away from the office, and it was easy to catch up on projects when you were off the clock. But you chose to not bring any work because quality time was needed. Just the two of you.

Surprising Javi was a miracle. He noticed everything. But you had learned to make moves secretly, without leaving any trails. It was a given that you would receive something big every year. When you went downstairs to make your coffee, greeting you in the kitchen were three dozen roses — marking the years of your marriage — a new diamond bracelet, and a reservation for a night out, so you wouldn't have to cook, your least favorite household "chore".

It was your turn to lovingly "one-up" him.

"You sure are doing a lot."

Javi had followed your lead, stuffing items from the dresser, into his suitcase.

"It's because I want to. That's why," you reminded him.

Sharing a look, you already knew how the next two and a half days would be spent in the small idyllic town. Trying out and fixing meals in the spacious kitchen, shooting the breeze and also talking about the future while exploring the property, binge watching a favorite comedy series, and then making love until the sun came up. The order in which those activities would occur didn't matter, but there would be lots of fun, and plenty of opportunities to reconnect.

After styling your hair and protecting it with a shower cap, you informed Javi, "The Uber is coming in thirty minutes. Quick shower?"

The scene you watched made you burst into a hearty laugh. Javi nearly tripped over himself, pulling off his clothes as soon as the words fell off your tongue. Never failed, the bell for playtime.

As much as you prided yourselves on time management skills, the shower was not quick. Heavy petting and making out. Then a furiously paced fuck once you stepped out of the tub. Forty-five minutes later, you and Javi rushed out of the house, sunglasses on, luggage in hand, looking like guilty teenagers. Receiving a steady side eye from the long-suffering driver, you apologized profusely again now in person, after a long text exchange, but still couldn't contain your giggles and snorts.

"You're such a troublemaker," Javi leaned over, doing a miserable job at reprimanding. His lips and mustache touching that sensitive spot of your neck.

You looked straight ahead, with lips pursed. "Not my fault you couldn't resist."

"Baby, that move you did on the counter, how the hell was I was supposed to not—“

"Mister, shhh. We don't need anyone knowing about what we do in private," you stared at him, playfully slapping his thigh.

You had a way of flirting that included banter. It was a turn on, being kept on your toes.

Not wanting to irritate the driver any further, you rested your head on Javi’s shoulder, willing to stay quiet for the remainder of your ride to the airport.

Locking fingers, you pecked his cheek. Brushing your nose on his jaw. You murmured to your handsome soulmate.

"I love you."

Like clockwork, Javi’s cheeks rose and the shade of his ears began to darken into a flushed pink. The look of satisfaction. Total bliss. Those three words worked magic every time.

-----

thanks for reading. just tagging a few people: @moralesfish, @queridopascal, @dinsplaything, @littlemisspascal, @heythere-mel​

L

[footygirl114]

Compañeras de equipo (Mapi Leon x Reader)

“Were a team” prompt is from @grapefruit-personified Hopefully this doesn't distract you from the important needle work you are doing

Working in an ER was very hard but very rewarding. Doing 24 hour shifts that turned into 30 hours was very hard on you. You loved being able to help people and ensure that anyone who came into your ER felt safe and you knew you could offer them that. It was hard but rewarding work. The worst part was how you missed many games that your love played in. 

You had met Mapi Leon when you were just finishing up med school. She has been with you through the worst. She knew what she was getting into when you started dating but you cant help but feel like you hold her back. 

She never made you feel bad for missing games or events, but you always felt like she could do better than someone who couldn’t put her first. Thats why when ever you have the chance you are at every one of her games. It helped that you loved football so having to watch her games was never an issue for you. You knew all her teammates well and loved to watch them succeed. 

Knowing you couldn’t get out of the double shift for the UWCL final was heartbreaking. Luckily your ER had a tv you could at least have it on to keep up with the score and the game. It started well you watched the first 10 minutes, then a trauma came in and the ER was a mess for the next several hours. You barley had a second to breath before you were pulled in another direction.

You found out they lost, but didn’t have a chance to get to your phone until a few hours after the game ended. You saw the texts from friends and family in regards to the game, but you only had eyes for the messages from you love. She had told you that the team was having a low key night in to wallow and to call if you had a second. 

You immediately stepped into the staff room and face timed your love. She picked up and you could see her on a bed with Leila on one shoulder and Alexia leaning on the other shoulder. “Hi baby” you say quietly when you notice Alexia’s eyes were closed. 

“Hola mi amor, you look tired” she says immediately, you laugh at her worrying about you when she’s the one who needed to be looked after right now. 

Leila looks over at her screen and sees you and chimes in “Hola Y/N, we missed you today” 

You had become like a sister to almost everyone of Mapi’s teammates and you were generally the one who was able to keep them calm under stress. Working in an environment like the ER meant you were a calm person and some of the girls seeked that before big games. Leila being one of the players who was like a little sister to you. “Im sorry chica, I couldn’t get out of this double” you respond with a sad smile. 

“Y/N you never have to apologise for saving lives, please don’t feel guilty” Alexia adds in, she was probably who you would consider your best friend on the team (other than Mapi) and knew that you struggled with not being enough for people. 

“Hermosa, You didn’t need to see the disaster of the day today was, I’m glad you were doing something meaningful” Mapi chimes in with a small smile. 

You shake your head knowing there’s no use in arguing “Well are you all doing okay then? I wish I could give you all a hug” you tell them. 

Mapi looks around the room off camera and says to you “We have each other, were a team and we win as a team and lose as a team. We will come back stronger” 

Your heart swells for your girl and how much she cares for her team, then your pager goes off on your hip and you know you have to go. “Im sorry, I have to cut this short. Get home safe you guys, I love you all” as you blow them a kiss and sign off. 

Over the next few days you are barley home, the ER is overrun and short staffed. Mapi has stopped by a few times to drop you off clean clothes, food and coffee. Your heart swells every time she shows up for you. You hated that you missed the Cup semis for them after the loss but you couldn’t get away. 

When you finally get a chance to leave and get a few days off you are mentally fried. You make it home, and barley have the energy to shower before you pass out. You know Mapi was at training and wouldn’t be home for a few hours. 

When you wake up a few hours later you are confused but remember you made it home and were not in an on call room. You can hear Mapi moving around and smell some amazing food being cooked. You get up and go to grab a sweater and notice that all your laundry was clean, folded and put away. Mapi must have done it for you, you grab one of her sweaters and head down stairs. 

In the kitchen she’s prepping your favourite dinner and you burst into tears. She turns immediately  and wraps you in her arms, she tucks you under her chin and rubs your back as you cry it out. 

When you calm down and pull back from her she reaches up and places her thumbs under your eyes to wipe your tears as says “you’re okay babe I got you” 

You shake your head and say “You’ve done way too much for me, I couldn’t even be at the biggest game of your career for you” you try to pull away but she doesn’t let you go far. 

“Hermosa, look at me” she says softly, you look up at her as she grabs your hands “I love you, we are a team you and I, when you need me I am always going to be there for you. Just like when I need you, you will be there for me. That game sucked but I had my other team there for me, the team that I needed to experience that with. You needed to be here, and you needed me here to support you” 

You shake your head and say to her “You deserve someone who can be there for you all the time, not just when they’re free”

“babe, listen to me. I do not want someone else, I fell in love with you for you. I love the fact that you are saving lives, and that you are so passionate about what you do. The other day when I was there I saw the way you take care of every single patient, I’m in awe of you and how you have such a big heart. You know how I feel about my team, but this team” she points at you then back to her “is the most important team I am on, I love you and I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else”

You surge forward and press your lips to hers hard, she responds eagerly and deepens the kiss, you both break apart when the oven timer goes off. Before you let her attend to the food you pull her towards you and say “You are my favourite teammate too, I love you so much”

[currentlyfckingurmom]

Beneath the Wreckage part 10

series masterlist

Arina awoke the next morning to the calming sound of birds chirping outside the window. Other than that, the only sound filling the cozy St. Petersburg bedroom was soft, slow breaths.

Still sore from being shot, Arina stretched her body slightly and groaned, but paused when she felt a weight resting on her chest. Looking down at an awkward angle, she saw Natasha’s red hair splayed across her torso. With a small smile, she laid her head back down on the pillow and played with the red locks of hair.

For the next two hours, she didn’t move a muscle.

When Natasha eventually began to stir atop Arina’s chest, Arina was both thankful and upset. Natasha realized that she was cuddling Arina, and immediately sat upright on the bed.

“Morning, Talia. Sleep well?” Arina teased with a smirk.

“I slept fine. Breakfast?” Natasha suggested nervously.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Arina agreed as she began to get out of bed.

“No, no, no,” Natasha stopped her, pushing her back down onto the bed. “You need rest. I’ll make it and bring it to you.”

“Natasha-”

“Don’t even try to argue with me. I’ll be back soon.”

With that, Natasha left the bedroom. Knowing how stubborn Nat was, Arina didn’t try to argue, and instead sat on the bed, thinking over the past few weeks. When a few minutes later she began to smell smoke, she yelled out, “Everything okay out there?”

“Everything’s fine! Don’t worry about it!” Natasha yelled back, followed by a panicked, “Mom! Come here please!”

Arina listened intently for the next ten minutes, but it sounded like everything had gotten under control.

Natasha eventually came back through the bedroom door, a determined scowl on her face and a tray of steaming food in her hands. “It’s not much,” she said as she set the breakfast tray on Arina’s lap, “but I did the best I could.”

“It’s more than enough, Talia,” Arina assured her. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.” Natasha only shrugged in response.

Arina patted the spot next to her, and Natasha sat down. They shared the tray of food in comfortable silence.

Arina couldn’t help but think about how nice it felt to wake up next to Natasha, without anything threatening the passion the two of them shared. Natasha couldn’t help but think about the possibility of losing Arina; she almost had lost her, and the thought of it tore her apart.

Sensing Talia’s distress, Arina gently traced soft shapes on Natasha’s hand, without looking away from her pancakes. Natasha looked up, examining Arina’s side profile.

“I want to marry you,” she blurted out suddenly. Arina nearly choked on her food, looking at Natasha with wide eyes. “I know you’re not ready, and I don’t care if you never are. As long as I have you by my side, I don’t care about anything else. I’m so unbelievably in love with you, so enthralled that I don’t even know how to express it. But I just need you to know that I love you,” Natasha finished.

There was a tense minute of silence as they stared into each other’s eyes. Arina finally swallowed the remaining pancake in her mouth. Her eyes jumped between both of Natasha’s, and then she quickly leaned in and pressed a short, gentle peck to Natasha’s lips.

This time, Natasha was the one left wide-eyed.

Arina shot her a brief, small but sincere smile, then went back to focusing on her pancakes.

Natasha watched her chew for several seconds, then asked, “What was that for?” Arina looked at her, still chewing, and just shrugged. “Well…I-” Natasha stuttered, sighing with defeat. “That’s not fair,” she whined.

Arina only shrugged again. 

They once again sat in silence until Arina finished eating. She placed the tray on the bedside table, then adjusted her body so she was facing Natasha.

“I need you by my side, too,” she finally said. I love you too.

“Okay. Good.” Natasha briefly glanced down to Arina’s lips, but was unsure. Arina noticed, and leaned forward to meet Natasha in a slow kiss that said more than she could even understand. Natasha tangled her hands in Arina’s brown hair, trying her hardest to pull the other woman as close as possible. Arina slipped her tongue into Natasha’s mouth, gripping her waist tight.

“Oh, ew,” Yelena exclaimed after opening the bedroom door. “Next time put a sock on the door or something.”

Arina broke away from Natasha, refraining from laughing at the younger Russian’s disgust.

“Really, Yelena? You couldn’t have knocked? What do you want?” Natasha asked her sister.

“Well, I wanted to talk to Arina, but I can see that she’s a very busy woman.”

“What’s up, Lena?” Arina asked, still trying not to laugh at Yelena’s scowl.

“I need to talk to you. Alone, preferably.” She looked pointedly at her sister, who then stood up with a sigh.

“I’ll be in the living room,” Natasha told you, closing the bedroom door after she left.

“Lena, is everything okay?”

Yelena leaned against the door, looking up at the ceiling as she thought over how she wanted to say this. “What do we do now?” the blonde finally asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The Red Room is gone. The Widows are free. Dreykov and Madame B are dead. So what now? Who are we supposed to be? Where are we supposed to go?”

Arina stood up and crossed the room, leaning against the wall next to Yelena. “You do whatever you want, and you go wherever you want.”

“I don’t even know what I want.”

“Yeah, I get that. Trust me.”

“So what did you do?”

“I hid. In a bunker. Alone. For years. But I wouldn’t recommend that. You have us, Lena. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“So, you and Natasha, huh? That’s a thing now?”

“Shut up. Don’t change the subject.”

“No, no, it’s a good thing. I’ve been rooting for the two of you since I was six.”

“Well…thanks, I guess.”

“I hope it works out. Really, I do. But if you hurt her in any way, I will show you new kinds of pain that you couldn’t conjure up in your worst nightmares.”

“Noted. But I don’t plan on ever hurting her. I need her by my side.”

“Okay, well, I don’t need to hear the sappy shit. Come on, I’m sure Natasha is just bouncing in her seat waiting to see you again,” Yelena concluded dryly. She opened the door and exited the bedroom.

Arina followed her into the living room, biting back a smile when she made eye contact with Natasha. She sat down next to the redhead and watched as Yelena bickered with Melina and Alexei over something completely pointless and random.

“What did she want to talk about?” Natasha asked quietly.

“Just asked what we’re gonna do now that our pasts are out of the way.”

“And? What did you tell her?”

“She can do whatever she wants. And that I’m not going anywhere.”

Natasha nodded gratefully at that. “I’m glad to hear it.” They both smiled shyly, getting lost in each other’s eyes once again.

“I swear to god, if you two start making out I’m kicking both of you out of this house,” Yelena warned sharply.

Natasha grabbed a notebook off the floor and hucked it at Yelena’s head. Yelena started spitting profanities at Natasha in Russian, and Melina cut in, telling them to get along.

It would be a long road, but yeah, Arina could get used to this. She could learn to love again. Because if she fell in love with Natalia Alianova Romanova when they were only eleven years old, she could sure as hell stay by Natasha’s side for the rest of their lives.