#i would've put in an invite link

[wysteria-bloom]

Hazbin Hotel but the reader is an overlord that's like Miss Argentina

Genre : Songfic

Warnings : Val. Allusions to suicide. Self harm.

A/n : yeah bro idek I thought this was a cool idea if this post flops I don't give a shit I love miss argentina and her song is the best out of the whole Beetlejuice soundtrack and I will fucking die on that hill. This is Alastor x reader focused btw.

"I was hot!" The woman exclaimed, leaning against the bar stool seductively, grinning toothily at Charlie," Went to parties a lot, yknow?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively, mimicking snorting cocaine across her forearm.

Charlie smiled nervously at the woman as she watched her spin away from the bar towards Husker gracefully," I was driving lamborghinis sippin' super dry martinis in the tiniest bikinis on a yacht," Her smile dropped and she pretended to be a damsel in distress, leaning backwards as Husk caught her in his arms with a bored expression," but I was depressed~..."

She pet Husk on the cheek good-naturedly and spun out of his arms," Oh so completely obsessed... an unhappy beauty queen who dreamed to be Miss Argentina," She gave Charlie a wink, flipping her hair before she gave her a sincere look," I had such low self-esteem, I was a mess!"

Charlie frowned in sympathy before she was pulled into a side hug very suddenly, face pressed against... a generously gifted... cleavage. Her cheeks exploded a bright colour of red and she could've sworn she heard Vaggie growl.

"So I gave it all up for the netherworld, I've been here forever, girl." She gave Charlie a wink and a ruffle of her hair," If I was more clever, girl - I would've stuck it out. Knowing what life's about."

She spun Charlie around, putting on a dramatic performance as she clutched a hand to her chest," Pain and joy and suffering," She wiped away a fake tear," Failing but recovering. I'll tell you another thing," She gestured to Charlie's ragtag group of sinners who were watching the performance with interest and amusement," Everyone here is alone!" Their faces dropped.

She cupped Charlie's face gently, grinning wryly," so if you are breathing, go home!"

She took Charlie's hands in her own, swaying her hips from side to side, engaging in a tango," If I knew then, what I know now~!" She twirled Charlie around with a joyous laugh, the princess couldn't help but laugh along with her, the woman's energy completely infectious," I would have looked within and let love in somehow~!"

She pulled Charlie back towards her, her movements sharp and jumpy," If I only knew, the truth back then," she pressed a kiss to Charlie's hand and let go, showing her wrists to Charlie with a cheeky little smile on her lips, two blatant scars across her wrists indicated to Charlie what exactly happened to (name)," I wouldn't have had my 'little accident'~"

She swayed around, ignoring the pitying look the princess sent her way," Don't be blind," She stopped in front of the painting of Charlie and her parents, gesturing to it with a disapproving frown on her painted lips," You left your whole life behind!" She then counted with her fingers as she began to list," see a shrink, call a priest, ask the recently deceased!" She pointed at Vaggie who ruffled at her uncomfortably.

She then began to push Charlie gently towards the front door of the hotel, giving Alastor an inviting grin," Death is final and you cannot press rewind~!" She cheered out with a wide grin to her voice.

The Radio Demon simply closed his eyes with a simple little smile on his lips, striding over to the woman and holding his arm out to her in a gentlemanly fashion, which made her laugh and link her arm with his.

As they walked around the town, demons chimed in to (name)'s song, following her with stars in their eyes and wide grins.

"Don't jump when the light is red!"

"Toasters should be used for bread."

"Never smoke cigars in bed..."

"Nietzsche was right, y'know, to live is to suffer, bro!"

"Don't cheat on the one you wed!!"

"Never whip a thoroughbred."

"Angry pygmys shrunk his head!"

(name) gave Charlie a gentle pat to the head with a little frown on her lips as the demons harmonised with her," Why did it take death to see that happiness was up to me?"

The woman broke from Alastor and Charlie, arms gestured out widely as if she was offering a hug to the whole of hell. She wish she could.

"If I knew then, what I know nowww~!" She spun around in a circle as demons danced around her with wide grins stretched across their faces, her energy affecting them as well," I would've laughed and danced and lanced every sacred cow!"

She turned to Alastor and Charlie, bright eyes shining at them as she waved her hands at them to follow along with her and let loose," I thought I knew, but I was wrong~!"

Alastor's grin stretched as he placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder, gesturing a hand to (name) as the two of them sang to her," 'cause life is short, but death is super long!"

Suddenly, a demon with a bomb-shaped head poked his head around (name), a mischievous little grin on his face," I exploded!" And his head did just that. But instead of brains, confetti flew around the whole of street.

It looked like a festival was happening... and with (name) it might as well have been a festival.

Demon danced and frolicked around as they cheered and chirped out, dancing in the square like no tomorrow.

Angel Dust grinned at Husk toothily and offered the cat a hand to dance which he scoffed and rolled his eyes at but took his hand anyways, a grin ghosting onto his lips.

Sir Pentious was crouched down a little as he took Niffty's little hands into his and they flailed their arms happily in an uncoordinated dance. His eggs marching around them with stupid smiles.

Vaggie offered a hand to Charlie with a shy little smile on her lips. The princess' previous grievances were forgotten as she let the happiest smile spread across her lips, pulling Vaggie close to her to begin dancing.

Alastor made his way into the middle as (name) held her hand out to him. His large claws wrapped around hers, one of his hands settled on her waist as he sang along with her.

"If I knew then, what I know now~! " She gave him a bright smile, the two of them dancing in complete sync. (name) didn't know Alastor could tango so well, that was for sure," I would've crossed every line and drank all the wine before my final bow!" At this line, Alastor dipped her, making her squeal in delight.

"If I knew, the things that now I know~!" The two of them focused on eachother's feet as they tapped and moved along to the music sharply, the demons all gaming over singing from here.

"I would ride the highs and cherish the lows! Going, it's a quick trick 'round the rodeo!"

(Name)'s arm wrapped around Alastor's neck as he lifted her up bridal style, spinning her around joyously. The woman had an arm thrown out as she sang her heart out," So before they lower the curtain, be certain to enjoy the show! That's what I knoooow~!"

He let her down as she danced herself and then gave Charlie a supportive smile," life is short but death is long," she took her hand and trailed her through the crowd to the middle of the square, standing on the stairways of the hotel," here, one minute then it's gone."

Charlie joined in the song happily," thought I knew but I was wrong," the two then harmonised," If only I knew what I know now~!!"

- 👠 -

Vox's eye twitched as he watched the screen, just about ready to explode. Vox had it frozen on the frame of (name) in Alastor's arms as they sang together with knowing smiles on their lips.

Val hummed, tapping the screen with a claw," her tits are huge, huh?"

That made the TV-man snap as he glitched out from pure adultered rage, throwing his "Fuck Alastor" mug at Val.

[mchlgayser]

heeey could u write about mason’s family finding out he has a girlfriend because she shows up at his door (when he answers she kisses him and everyone is shocked) thank u

OH MY GOD: : mason mount x female!reader

author's note: this is, by far one of my cutest fiction I think?! but lemme know what you think anon!! luv xx

contents warning: none // not proofread

'You got me a dress? ...In my closet room? ...Mason when did you even get here?!' He chuckles through the phone 'I'll tell you about that later alright? Just get dolled up for me angel!' He hung up the phone and you sigh, exasperatedly.

Mason told you today he wanted to bring you to a dinner date at his house, and you as a person who could't said no, you agreed to. What could possibly go wrong anyway?

Everything

You jog upstairs to your room and the linked closet room to see a black box with gold ribbon laid before you on the accessories drawer. You carefully pull open the box to see a long and elegant pink maxi dress neatly tucked

You present the dress in front of you feeling giddy and bubbly to wear it for today's special occasion.

You did your make up not too long after, putting on the dress and get your 'M' initial necklace and a pair of eggshell white pearl dangling earrings. After that you put your hair on a neat low bun and strands of hair at the front curling it a bit.

Satisfied with the look, you grab a purse along with a few of your necessities and then left the house.

Mason on the other hand started to grow more anxious, his polo-collared shirt is beads with sweats, his hands is shaking, too scared for your reaction and his family but he knows none of it won't be too negative but he'll get nagged from both parties.

His family are still preparing the dishes while his father and his brother in law on the hall talking business, him on the other hand has been quite nonstop looking out the window to see if your car had parked outside his residence.

'Guys, dinner's ready!' His sister, Chloe announced 'Mason come on--'

'I invited--'

The front door bell chiming, the whole family turns up to Mason 'Friends coming over?' He gulps, his mom head shake at the weird behavior of his son and gets up 'Let me get the door!'

'I'll do it, mom,' He rush to the door, his whole family is still eyeing him, he could see it from the corner of his views

He opens the door welcoming you, you squealed giving him a long chaste kiss on the lip and his cheeks. A series of 'What?' and a shrieking 'Oh' comes after that, you peep from his shoulder seeing his whole family looking at you both, well partially you...

You gapped in surprise, eyes going back and forth between Mason and his family. The mother came up to you first 'Gosh dear, you must be Mason's girlfriend,' She laugh immediately easing the tension, you gulp eyes burning holes into Mason as she drags you over the table and strike an immediate convos. His father joined in and soon his sister

'So how long you to've known each other?' She questioned you, you awkwardly chuckle 'It was't long, eight months I think? We met during an award show, I was the host and we had short interview together..' You blurted out, Mason beside you smile along and confirming it.

It was like that for the next past hours, his family opening up to you, especially his mom, she's very supportive, very reliable and caring too, easy for a timid person like you to even talk to her.

The day went by fast, and soon they left, you rolled your eyes at Mason and went back inside the house 'Wait babe--'

'What?! You got me meeting your family while I'm like this..' You pouted at him and he laugh, clasping one hand over your waist 'Like what..? You look decent.'

'Am not, I would've put more effort if I know it would be a dinner date with your family... I know I said that I'm ready to meet them whenever but not surprising me like Mase!' You complained, hand crossing over your chest getting sulky

He crooks a small smile and kiss your hand 'Well it went well innit?'

You suck your teeth and dismissed the topic 'Whatever but next time you gotta tell me first so I can prepare gifts or something...' He hums and followed after you inside the house

'You could say that all my family are fond of you, especially mom..' He admitted with a toothy grin, you mirror his expression and nods 'I think so, not too bad am I? Do you think they'll approve me to be part of the Mount family?' You joked sending a giggle his way, he froze for a second before he wraps both arms around you 'Yeah, they won't mind that, I think mom will definitely say this "the sooner the better" don't you think?' You flush down to your neck as Mason laughs at your unexpected reaction 'So cute!' He cooed scooping you up and bringing you to his bedroom

'Stay for the night, yeah love?'

[bthump]

I see a lot of people acting like Guts was so good to Casca when he admitted he just wanted a side chick. Reading the manga it felt that she was unimportant to him, someone to fuck and throw to the side. Even when he was trying to be there for her it felt so...forced. Like he didn't want to be there at all, why do you think that is?

I think it's a combination of Miura deliberately writing it as a flawed attempt at a relationship in terrible circumstances between two fucked up people that was always kind of a mistake, and like, probably some bad writing as well lol.

Like I think it's supposed to at least come across as sweet and earnest and hopeful at the time. A genuine connection between Guts and Casca. Miura has said in an interview that he wrote their relationship to add more drama to the Eclipse, so presumably the audience is meant to root for them to an extent, so that the Eclipse rape can make the reader even more angry lol.

But I don't think it was ever intended to be true love or even necessarily a good idea on the parts of the characters. When Guts invites Casca along he directly says she might get in the way of what he wants to do (fight strong opponents) so his invitation is conditional. This actually foreshadows Guts abandoning her in a cave to go and fight monsters, because she does get in his way.

Casca also cries when Guts fights Wyald and afterwards tells him to die on his own if he's so insistant about it, so even if she hadn't gone insane she probably would've gotten in the way of his dream to throw himself into danger over and over anyway lol.

On the rescue mission they start getting jealous as they get closer to Griffith. They essentially break up right before the Eclipse starts, Casca telling Guts to leave to pursue his dream while she stays with Griffith.

Judeau puts a lot of energy into trying to get them to hook up and leave together, and it's strongly implied that it's because he doesn't feel like he deserves Casca himself and he wants what he thinks is best for her. But when he dies he regrets never telling Casca about his feelings, and Casca even has a little romantic moment with him after he saves her life, which echoes the way she falls for Griffith and then Guts when they save her life.

And it's kind of jarring when she's already hooked up with the protagonist of the story, and certainly suggests that her relationship with Guts is not exactly all-consuming for them. It's realistically unromantic.

Post-Eclipse, Casca is framed as Guts' responsibility that pulls him away from the more visceral temptation to go after Griffith. And this causes him to nearly kill Casca, and then nearly rape her.

When Casca gets her mind back but can't look at him, Guts swings his sword in frustration and restlessness and thinks about Griffith's intense gaze from across a field. After she gets kidnapped, Guts only seems to care that his sword couldn't hit Griffith.

I could go on lol, but basically there are so many deliberate details that point to Guts and Casca's relationship being intended not as super romantic, but rather a more realistic hookup that isn't necessarily a net positive for either of them. And I do think that's what Miura intended, to a greater or lesser degree. I'm sure it was meant to be somewhat genuine and sweet, but I think they're ultimately shown to be incompatible and like, a trainwreck overall.

And yeah, a lot of Guts' shitty treatment of Casca is definitely deliberate, since after the Eclipse he does abandon her, and later attacks and assaults her, and she's currently traumatized by not just Femto and monsters, but also him.

I've actually written a ton of posts about their relationship and its flaws, so I'll link some in case you're interested in more detailed takes:

This is probably one of the best posts I've written about them imo, about how Judeau and Guts' relationships to Casca are compared and contrasted to highlight some of Guts' flaws.

Guts and Casca's hook up being paralleled to Griffith and Charlotte's hook up in terms of both men trying to repress their feelings about the other.

How Judeau's manipulations reflect on Guts and Casca's relationship.

Visual parallels during the Guts + Casca sex scene that suggest they're both rebounding from Griffith.

My take on Guts wanting to earn Casca's affection in ch 33.

Guts and Casca's relationship as a mistake that contributes to the Eclipse happening.

Guts and Casca's hook up failing to have an impact.

A long list of moments that contradict Guts and Casca's relationship as particularly romantic.

Thanks for the ask!

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Beg For It [21]

TW: smut :P

_______________

dacnorthxx started following you.

sallysusedtoiletpaper: VI WHO IS THIS WHO IS NORTH WHY IS THIS INTERACTION GIVING ME LIFE??? t0ddles2: @sallysusedtoiletpaper frontman of dark autumn complex sallysusedtoiletpaper: @t0ddles2 oh omg ok... I've never heard of them are they any good?? ashypoops: I haven't heard of them either. What genre? More importantly DOES VI HAVE HER VERY FIRST SHIP toodswithoutthed: @ashypoops I WAS ABOUT TO ASK BC THE CHEMISTRY!?!? they're obsessed w each other... I went stalk his profile. Ship name options: northlence, violeth... t0ddles2: they're rock/metal. even if u don't like the genre, they're worth a listen sallysusedtoiletpaper: WORD I just followed him and their band account >:3 also @toodswithoutthed I'm personally a fan of violeth. I'm linking this shit in the faces fan discord ashypoops: THERE'S A FAN DISCORD??? can u send me an invite pooks🥺 sallysusedtoiletpaper: @ashypoops ofc😘 sallysusedtoiletpaper: OMFG SOMEONE BEAT ME TO THE CHAT EVERYONE KNOWS NOOOOOO

———

Yea, so I lost my job. Big shocker.

Once my boss found out that I dipped mid-shift, the text was typed out and sent by the evening.

In any other situation, I'd be fucked. Indefinitely. Completely broke and flailing to get a new job. In fact, that was my first thought. As soon as I got the text, I clicked onto my bank account to check how much I'd have to live off of until I found a new job--

--only to find out that I had over $2,000 just sitting around, which was such a nice surprise. I don't think I've ever had so much money to my name before in my entire life. And all the transactions were straight from all my streaming apps. All within the past two weeks since being back in LA.

To say the least, losing my job couldn't have happened at a better time. Now, I can put my focus into something I actually enjoy doing.

But first, a trip to Nockfell, which is proving to be more chaotic by the second.

"Todd, dude, there's a chemistry to this thing, okay? It's a ritual," Larry says, all seriousness and business face as he stares back into Todd's uninterested gaze. "I can't fly without it."

Todd blinks, a flash of frustrated disappointment crossing over his features. "You're not taking an edible before the flight, Lartholomew."

Ash had a ticket ready for me before she even got to LA yesterday. Her entire mastermind plan was to abduct me whether I liked it or not-- not that I would've said no to begin with. And besides, having her at the apartment to help me pack last minute made pre-flight stress non-existent.

Travis is camping out at my apartment. He was more than happy to kick me out of my own house, claiming that my bed is comfiest anyway. Regardless, he said he had no desire to return to Nockfell anyway. And dad was just excited for me to go visit considering how much I've complained about missing the little town over all these years.

Sal and I haven't spoken since his last commanding text to me. Right before his very sudden face reveal. He's caught in an almost petrifying silence-- has been since he put his prosthetic back on. I, on the other hand, very much resemble a little puppy whimpering and begging at his feet. Metaphorically, of course. I wouldn't dare to physically exploit my internal thoughts.

The really sickening truth is that I'm so desperate to see his face again that I'd trip him down a flight of stairs just to recreate yesterday's scene.

Just kidding. I don't mean that. I definitely don't.

"All our seats are kind of screwed up, so I have no idea where you're sitting, sugar." Ash pokes my cheek, her chin in her palm and elbow propped on the armrest of her seat. "I bought them kind of last minute so I took whatever they had available."

A little smile tips my lips as I turn my attention away from the grumpy smurf and focus on my stunning best friend. Her viridian irises glow with renewed joy and energy like our plans check off so many bullet points on her bucket list. "That's okay," I reply, tilting my head. "At least we actually have seats, right?"

Ash grins, her maroon shaded lips accentuating the light freckles along the bridge of her nose. "See?" she chirps, arm winding through mine to pull me closer. "You get it. When do you not get it?"

Our plane calls for us to board, and so begins the toxic, anxiety-inducing split-up of the century. I lose all The Faces somewhere in the crowded line that gathers at our gate in just a matter of seconds. That's okay though, I'll probably end up sitting with some old lady that smells like an odd mixture of peonies, Dial soap, and Lysol. You know, a funeral home and two colds away from death. So long as she's nice, I'll catch her dentures when they fall out of her gaping mouth as she naps.

Anything for MawMaw.

I hobble my way into the plane, brain set on finding my seat before stressing about all other one hundred and fifty two things I have to worry about later. People are everywhere and it's, expectedly, a huge plane. Three rows-- two seaters against each wall and a row of three seats down the middle. Sickening, really. Social anxiety's worst enemy is looking for means of escape only to be met by even more people.

I block everyone out as best as I can, pretending that the people I bump into are just very dense pieces of furniture. Or, actually, even better-- a bunch of really buff kitties. Yep, just passing through a horde of Maine Coon's and Munchkin's.

I spot row F, my pupils zeroing in on the letter like a scope on a gun. Target acquired.

The majestic way I veer around what my mind imagines is a really tall Siamese and their spouse, a yellow Persian, is something that the directors of The Matrix are pissed that they couldn't come up with. I swing my foot around a figurative pair of paws and reach my free hand out to grip onto my seat-- F20. That's right bitches, I did it.

I swing my suitcase up, somehow managing to actually get it into the overhead compartment. I give it a good shove with both of my hands and a grunt, then pull the backpack off my shoulders to keep it at my feet when I sit down.

But now that I've stopped, cats are pushing past me and it's so aggressive and rushed that they suddenly aren't sweet, fluffy kitties anymore. They're people again and I'm starting to get dragged away from my seat by this sea of shared distress.

Nimble fingers latch onto my wrist from the seat beside mine-- the seat against the window. The hand tightens around me, giving my body a good yank forward. I use the aided force to weave my way around a few more people up until the hand pulls me into my seat.

I huff out a breath, pushing my hair out of the eyeholes of my mask. And begrudgingly, I turn my head to meet bright cerulean hair.

Sal isn't looking at me, he's facing the window. His entire stature gives off a mixture of unbothered and ashamed. He shouldn't feel that second one-- never. Granted, he shouldn't feel angry half as much as he does but that's besides the point.

Ever since it happened, I could tell that the abrupt exposure of his face has been heavily weighing on him. I don't owe this man a single thing-- he's been awful to me in so many ways, but I give credit where credit is due. Not only did he own up and apologize to me yesterday, he helped me to my seat... and he is handsome. Regardless of how he views himself.

He's my biggest enemy and I, his. But if I plan on getting fucked during my visit to Nockfell, I have to give him the Beating of Truth.

"So," I mumble, chewing on the inside of my cheek. If you couldn't tell, I'm absolutely forcing myself to do this even though it's the last thing I want to do. "How are we working around Ash, Larry, and Todd when we get to Nockfell?"

Sal's head tips up a bit, like he's wondering to himself if I actually just spoke to him. Then his head pivots sideways so that he can side-eye me.

"What?" He asks, voice genuinely shocked and confused. It makes my heart stutter a bit. Any time he speaks in a tone that isn't aggressive, it completely reboots my system.

"How are we going to follow through with this arrangement?" I try again, simplifying it into Sal terms. He has a wide vocabulary range; maybe using bigger words will snap some sense into him. For added effect, I lean onto the armrest separating him and I, trying to show that he doesn't repulse me or anything of the sort.

Sal doesn't move away, instead, he adjusts his body so that he can address me. Fully turns his prosthetic face to me and settles into his seat. I didn't realize how tense he was when I first sat down, but watching him relax now shows me how much my simple mention of our agreement settled his mental turmoil.

He's quiet for a moment, eyes dancing across my mask and body before his gaze meets mine again. "You still want to?" he finally decides to ask, eyebrows lifting beneath his prosthetic.

"Yea," I snort, scrunching my nose up as if his question is ridiculous. "Why wouldn't I?"

Okay, stupid question. I know the answer and the words came out before I could stop them. In more ways than others, that was a genuine response though. I can't accept that Sal would be so put off by his own appearance because I truly think it's so lovely. I have to remember though that not everyone sees themselves the way I see them though.

Sal's brows bunch together again, his eyes narrowing. "Stupid fucking question," he echoes my own thoughts, voice even and void of tone. Whoopsie.

I roll my own eyes, sighing. "Well, to settle the whole debacle," I start, aiming to just bite the bullet and extinguish the awkwardness and misplaced fear vibrating between us. "I think you're quite the catch."

Friendly banter is weird. Borderline uncomfortable, but... not quite. Just so that I'm ready to get this over with but I'd be prepared for it to happen again.

A nasally snort leaves Sal and he rotates his head so that he's facing the pair of seats in front of us.

"So," he prods, ignoring my statement. "North?"

Mission success. I know he'll never admit it and he doesn't need to, but I think he appreciates the compliment.

"What's it to you?" I counter, adjusting my position in turn. I sit criss-cross applesauce in my seat, making sure my feet don't touch Sal because God forbid. "You still get to fuck me."

"Not much," he says lowly, hand moving to ruffle up his fringe. There's that dagger tattoo again. And then his head tilts just a bit, haunting sapphire blue piercing straight through my soul like the weapon etched onto his skin. "But you're mine. North can't give you even an ounce of what I can."

Fuzzy fingers, a pounding heart, and the worst case of cold sweats possible dominates my body for the rest of the flight. My brain replays that statement over and over again, plaguing me with recurring physical reactions like I've just heard it in real life again. I wish he hadn't said anything at all if it was going to leave me like this.

Neither of us said another word. The only sound between the two of us was the constant cracking of my knuckles accompanied by me putting my feet on the ground-- then sitting criss-cross again-- then having to readjust again and again and again. He left me quite literally restless and I'm sure he's relishing in just the knowledge of it.

Landing in Nockfell was a quick divergence from bubbly hearted affliction in my being. A good distraction from Sal.

Perpetual autumn. Nockfell never gets too hot or cold. The air is always misty, the sky always grey and cloudy. Tall, ever-growing trees dominate both night and day, stealing all the light from the sun and hiding it in their leafy treetops. Nockfell houses the kind of atmosphere that I've dreamt of returning to for years now; the gentle eeriness and chill that I've longed to bask in ever since I left.

We step out of the airport and into the small parking lot where a suspiciously blue haired man is waving at us with a big, dad-like grin on his face. Not a question in my mind. That's Sal's dad-- the cropped, receding cerulean hair was the first obvious sign but as we grow closer, his bright azure eyes are the second giveaway.

"Wassup, daddio!" Larry exclaims, wrapping Sal's father up in a huge bear hug (which is so Emo Buff Daddy of him). I nearly forgot that Sal's dad, who I now know as Henry, is also Larry's step-dad. Crazy.

"Not much, big guy!" Henry chuckles, rubbing Larry's back affectionately once the hug comes to an end. He pats Larry's shoulder, that big smile still on his aged face. "You guys brought the friend back! Convinced her to come huff up our humid air?"

Henry moves over to Ash, Todd, and then Sal to hug all of them. He purposefully places a discreet kiss on top of Sal's head before turning to me.

He holds his arms open suggestively and my heart flutters. "You okay with hugs?" He asks me. "Everyone's family here."

A grin of my own sneaks onto my face as I take a little step toward Henry and wrap my arms around his middle.

Henry's arms latch around my body, shielding me from the moist, heavy air of Nockfell and anything else that could possibly hurt me here. His embrace is so comforting, so familiar, so protective that tears I've been holding back for weeks suddenly rush to the surface.

I love my own dad, he's perfect, but being hugged by his near doppelgänger reminds me of how much I miss him. I wish dad and I weren't apart so often. But that'll change soon with the money I'm making.

I don't allow myself to weep, I hide the tears and pull away from the comforting hug I needed so desperately to smile sweetly at Henry. Lovely man, his own smile widens.

The group of us piles into Henry's old 2000 Nissan Pathfinder to navigate around Nockfell.

We first stop at Ash's place-- a home I haven't seen in a decade now. Everything is so nostalgic-- the tall, two story, white-painted, wooden home and the canopy of evil-looking trees that hide it from the road reminds me of a time that's been ripped away from me.

Ash leans on the door of Henry's SUV, the window down for her to speak to me before she disappears. "I'll come by Sal's or the apartments later to scoop you up, 'kay? Parents and I have a meeting with some guys to transfer ownership of some things to me before the move." She chews on her lip, a deep yearning in her pretty eyes. "I'd let you stay with me if I could."

I shake my head at her-- I don't want her to feel guilty for handling business. "No that's okay." I tell her sweetly, grabbing onto her hand. "I'll kickback with the guys."

Ash smiles, squeezing my hand in hers before breaking off to head to her house.

Now, I never imagined I'd end up coming back to Nockfell in general, but to stand in Sal Fisher's home? These were even more improbable odds.

And worse, Todd suddenly slips out of the house with the very mean (he's ditching me!) excuse of meeting with Neil for a late lunch. That just leaves me, Larry, and Sal standing in the spacious kitchen of their shared two-story home. It's quaint, roomy, and pretty nice. I imagine it's kept up specifically because Sal tends to it.

And Sal, he doesn't say anything. Which is typical behavior from him. He only, swiftly, spins on his heels, luggage in hand, and disappears into a room right past the stairs. Okay, fair. It's late in the afternoon-- naptime.

And now it's down to two.

I look to Larry with a grin. And he's grinning back excitedly, wiggling around like an antsy child who's about to go on a field trip.

"I can't believe we managed to get you over here," he whisper-yells, screaming silently. You know, just open-mouthed and head tipped to the ceiling in pure excitement.

"Even Copernicus wouldn't be able to debunk this turn of events," I joke, watching Larry dance around his kitchen. I put my bags down. I'm sure we'll figure out this situation later when Ash returns.

Larry opens up his refrigerator, moving around some bottles before uttering an expletive. "Ah, fuck," he hisses out, quickly lifting his head which results in him slamming said head into the freezer door. I pause, wincing, eyeing his silhouette warily while awaiting whatever he has to say next.

He resurfaces from the fridge, rubbing his aching head and chewing on his bottom lip. "I left my fucking bags in Henry's car." He curses again, glancing up at me with agitated eyes. "I have to run over to the apartments real quick." Larry starts inching away from the fridge and I feel my heart leap. How could he forget his luggage in the car? And is he really about to leave me here with the master of aggressive seduction himself? We're bound to tear this house apart either via sex or a physical fight. I just don't know which one.

"I'll be like... ten minutes at most," Lar says, squeezing past me and around the kitchen table, rerouting to the front door. He gives me a look that screams vulnerability and urgency. "Please don't kill Sal, and don't let him kill you. Okay? I'll be back in a jiffy."

I blink at him, running my tongue along the inside of my dry mouth. This is not going to go well. "Okay," I say anyway. I can already see the headline on the newspaper-- 'Masked Streamer, Sally Face, Brutally Murders and Chops Up Rising Streamer, VioletViolence, With Kitchen Knife.'

Larry nods at me, pinches his lips together in a moment of concerned hesitation, then disappears through the front door.

I stand in the empty kitchen for a moment, watching the back of Larry's head through the front door window. "In a jiffy..." I murmur to myself, recalling the most soccer-mom words I've ever heard come from Larry's vicinity. It was so odd, I mean he would never say something like that, but here we are.

The house is empty aside from myself and Sal. What the hell am I supposed to do? Watch The Office?-- well, that actually doesn't sound bad at all.

I can literally do anything I want, though. I have been given the most opportune opportunity to act upon my will as I see fit. With that in mind accompanied by the suspiciously good conversation a certain blue-haired individual and I shared on the plane, I think I have an idea of what I could do. And I know I'll have a willing partner. 

This will either end in a homicide via kitchen knife or an orgasm. I'll take my chances.

A sly little grin fights its way onto my lips as I spin on my heels, trekking over to Sal's room. His door is closed, giving him an ample amount of darkness to hide in while gaming or sleeping or whatever he's doing. But for me, it's the ample amount of darkness to create a moody setting. It's perfect.

The cold, metal doorknob sits comfortably in the palm of my hand as I give myself one last chance to think about this. I really shouldn't do this, but the timing will never be this good again. With everyone moving to LA, I may never get a chance this convenient since someone will always be around.

That's the last little bit of encouragement I need to twist the knob and slowly push the plain, white painted door open.

The wood squeaks on its hinges, making Sal turn his head up from his PC. His dark, shadowed eyes meet mine. They go from curious to a bit miffed in half a second— but he doesn't say anything, really just ignores me and turns back to his setup.

My heart races. He didn't turn me away or tell me to get the fuck out of his room. That's a good start. But that also means I can actually follow through with my very sudden plan— a plan which has no plan. I didn't even brainstorm what I could do because I genuinely didn't think I'd get this far.

I watch him closely, noting the way his computer casts a cool, blue glow against his prosthetic. His hand moves the mouse around and he clicks on various things, really paying me no mind at all.

My teeth clamp onto my bottom lip as I step past the threshold of his room, grabbing hold of the door and slowly closing it behind me. Once it latches into place, I wait, simply observing the man with my back to the door. For good measure, I turn the lock. You know, just in case I manage to get somewhere.

And he still doesn't look my way. The fact that he's ignoring my presence right now makes anticipation build up within me. My heart thumps a little faster than it already has been. My cheeks feel warm, I can't keep my hands still. It's like my brain is kicked into overdrive, forcing me to take notice of every little thing.

I lick my lips and take a step forward, scratching at the skin on my knuckles. I take another step, then another, my body growing warm with anxiousness all because I may stand in front of this man, present myself to him, and come to regret it. I really might embarrass myself. Just because we agreed doesn't mean he wants me at this exact moment.

But before I'm even really prepared, I'm standing right beside him. And he's sitting there without a care in the world, comfortably propped up in his gaming chair and pulling up different comments on what looks to be YouTube.

I've done about all I can for right now, but we are on limited time. So I watch him for a moment. He has to know I'm right here— I wasn't quiet, I didn't avoid his field of vision. I'm right here.

And I still get nothing.

Time to think. Should I say something insulting? That usually gets him riled up. Maybe then, one thing will lead to another.

I bounce on my heels for a second as I think up a quick insult. "Is this how you waste your time? Figured you'd at least reply to some of your fans if you were going to read their comments. Kinda shitty of you." Low blow probably. I don't really mean it, but I'm sure he'll take it seriously. His fans mean a lot to him, it's the best way to gain his attention.

But Sal doesn't even react, only scrolls through a few replies under a comment and clicks 'like' on a some. He doesn't flinch. Doesn't look at me. Never makes a sound.

I roll my eyes. Playing hard to get are we? He fusses at me for not complying all the time— he's such a hypocritical asshole. I hate that I'm into it.

I swallow thickly, putting my hands behind my back to try and hide my nervous fidgeting. "Sal," I try, cringing a bit. That was desperation— he has to know that.

Again, nothing.

He really must be trying to piss me off, that or he isn't interested at all. But thankfully, the zero interest half doesn't stink like I was afraid it would. Instead, it spurs me into action.

He can ignore my words all he wants, but he can't ignore me.

"I'm going to touch you," I warn because consent is important. "If you don't want that, you need to tell me."

I wait a good thirty seconds but he stays silent.

I pinch my lips together then grab onto the armrest of his chair, pulling it back just enough to place my body between him and his computer. He simply looks up at me with disinterested eyes, so I go further, fueled by the spark in my soul and the rage of him purposefully pretending I'm not even there.

I take a step forward and put a gentle hand on his shoulder for balance, then easily slide myself onto his lap. His thighs are warm beneath my own, his skin smooth under my fingertips. The dark ink on his biceps contrasts beautifully with the milky color of his skin and it's quite an honor to finally run my hands over his art.

I watch the way my fingers drag down his arm then up again, returning to his shoulder. I'm on top of him and he still hasn't said a word, still hasn't touched me. At this point, I'm yearning for something— anything.

The only good sign I'm getting is that he hasn't pushed me off.

I glance up, looking into his blue eyes that are darkened by the shadows of his room. They're watching me closely, no ounce of emotion reflected in them. He's just observing.

My other hand travels to his prosthetic face, gripping onto his jaw in the way that he does to me so often. "Think you can ignore me?" I whisper, a little smirk quirking my lips despite how badly I wish I could contain it.

A slight furrowing of his brows is what I get in return.

Ha, got him.

He still doesn't say anything, but I've piqued his interest at least.

"Larry's gone," I say next, my eyes traveling to the rough prosthetic in my hands. I run my thumb over the underside of his jaw, feeling a number of scars.

"I assumed so," he says, voice a bit deeper than it normally would be and toneless like it seems to have been all day.

My gaze meets his again, and this time there's a little fire in his pretty eyes. There's desire, interest, slow-building exhilaration. I love seeing this look on him.

"Mhm," I hum, moving my other hand from his shoulder to the side of his neck. "Are you going to sit here and ignore me like the asshole you are, or are you going to have mercy on both of us?"

Sal slowly blinks, eyes traveling over my form, drinking me in like I'm the last drop of water on earth. "You called me an asshole for a reason," he bites out. "Don't expect much. Unlike you, I can actually hold out."

"But what's the point of holding out?" I counter, tilting my head to the left. "Larry's heading to the apartments. We have about ten minutes. That's enough room for one of a couple options. Stop being a little prick and do something."

"More like twenty. Larry takes his sweet ass time." Sal's eyes narrow. "You think insulting me is going to coerce me into this, you little bitch? Thought you knew our dynamic well enough by now." My words are getting to him. That's exactly what I want.

"I do know our dynamic," I whisper, leaning my head down so that my face is level with his. I look into his cerulean eyes and they gaze back at me, one pupil dilated. Then, I bend lower until I'm at the nape of his neck, his hair tickling my jaw.

I use the hand holding his face to tilt his head up and away from me, using the angle as leverage to place my lips onto his warm skin.

I hear a muffled sigh from him in response and it takes everything in me not to smile.

My mouth moves slowly along the side of his neck, placing meaningful, wet kisses along his throat. But when I get to the hilt of his tattoo, I bit down gently.

He flinches at the feeling of my teeth digging into his skin, then completely aborts his mission to ignore me completely.

Sal's hands fly to my waist, one gripping tightly onto my hip and the other trailing up my back and into my hair, gripping the strands tightly before yanking my head back.

My teeth are ripped from his neck immediately and Sal pulls me away from him by the base of my neck. I gasp, staring into his captivating azure eyes from just centimeters away. His prosthetic nose bumps my mask's and he holds me there without a word.

His eyes trail down my face and heavy breaths follow his gaze. His cold fingers are curled into my neck, his nails digging into my skin.

I swallow, wondering if maybe I should have just minded my own business, stayed in the living room and waited for Larry to come back. Maybe I pissed him off.

I lick my lips and blink at him, my mouth gapes open as I try to find something to say. He's silent. It's not awkward, just scary. Scary is ten times worse.

Sal must see the regret and fear in my eyes because his own eyes lessen their harsh glare a bit and then he rasps out, "Can I touch you?"

Every inch of my body goes rigid with shock, anticipation. "Yes," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My fingers tighten ever so slightly on the underside of his jaw while my heart runs an entire marathon in my chest. Now is not the time to get nervous because I sweat when I'm nervous. I need to be horny– not nervous.

Sal takes a deep breath, eyes set on mine. I feel his chest rise ever so slowly, then go back down the same exact way. The pause between us is utter agony and I feel like I'm going to start spazzing out or something. Honestly, with the way I'm sitting on top of him, I might just fall over and die on the spot. That feels less incriminating than whatever is about to ensue.

Cool fingers grasp onto my thigh, his palm flattening against my skin. His hand drags up to my side, followed by his other hand leaving my neck to grab the other side of my waist. The feeling of him touching me, just like he'd asked, fills me with memories I tried so desperately to forget just a couple weeks or so ago. This is deja vu in the best way.

In one swift motion, Sal lifts me up and plops me on top of his desk. I brace myself with my hands on either side of his keyboard that lays behind me. Questions of concern start flowing through my brain because this is an odd place to be.

"Don't knock over my shit," Sal breathlessly informs, eyes glancing up to me. HIs hands move to the waist band of my bottoms and I suck in another anxious, anticipatory breath.

I nod quickly, watching him with wide eyes as he looks down at my waist, his hands circling to the front of my stomach and fumbling with the button of my shorts. Oh my gosh.

I gulp, looking at anything but the man between my legs, currently pulling down the shorts I'd traveled in. His cold fingers brush along the outside of my thighs, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. He's slow, purposeful, dragging this out to get whatever reaction out of me that he can. It feels like my heart is about to explode.

I have no idea what he's about to do, he doesn't warn me either. I don't have the guts to watch this scene play out. The prospect of his dilated pupils, messy hair, and that glare in his captivating eyes is too much-- so much that warmth pools between my thighs before he can initiate anything.

"You look scared," he murmurs and I flinch at the gentle, comforting tone he uses with me. I've never heard something such as this come from him and be directed at mebefore.

"I am," I answer honestly, licking my lips while his fingers slowly pull my shorts down my legs. I lift myself a bit to aid him, shivering when my bare legs meet the cold surface of his desk. "A bit."

"Why?" Sal asks, hands pressing onto my thighs. With how warm my skin is and how cool his fingers are, the contrasting temperature is enough to spark an aneurysm. He drags those hands of his up my legs until he reaches my panties, hooking his digits into them.

I shake my head, chin quite literally tilted up to the ceiling. I'm not quite sure what has me so scared. Am I afraid of myself? Him? Getting caught? Being dropped again?

One risky hand leaves my hip and Sal's prosthetic comes into view. He's hovering over me, in a standing position now. His hair falls onto my shoulders, shielding us from the rest of the world like a curtain. I blink up at him, breath caught in my throat as a rush of chills invades my body.

"Hey," he says. His voice is a bit on edge, but it's concerned. So concerned that it distracts me from my own fear for a moment. "You're okay," he continues, his hand gripping onto my chin and pulling my head down so we can be eye level. I look between his bright eyes-- his eyebrows are risen a bit, as if to communicate to me that I can trust him. But can I?

"I'll take care of you. If you want to stop, if you don't want to start-- let me know. Say anything and I'll end it immediately." He tilts his head a bit, eyes glancing over my face. This is different. This looks vulnerable. "If I made you uncomfortable at all, I--"

My head shakes in opposition. I don't even have to think about it. "No, it's not that. It-- I trust you." The words spew out of my mouth and I immediately regret it. Something smug takes over his expression and I press my lips together, grabbing onto his wrist connected to the hand that's still holding my chin. "I trust you with this. If I was tied to train tracks, I wouldn't even think of calling you." I narrow my eyes at him to exemplify my point. His eyes squint as if he's... smiling? I'll ignore that. "But you've never... made me uncomfortable. You always ask. You always check. So..."

I watch him nod slowly, our gazes never disconnecting. He seems to contemplate what I've said, measurably formulating his next move. "Do you want to talk about what's stressing you then?"

My head rears back and my eyebrows furrow, his hand falling away from my face. "What brain eating amoeba has overtaken you?" I blurt out, holding a hand out between us. It's incredibly odd-- this is out of place. "You are never concerned about me-- what is this?"

If you can't tell, I'm not a fan of change. I greatly prefer stability even if it's toxic.

Sal drops the caring act almost immediately, his eyes rolling so hard that I'm worried they'll sink into his body. "I can't go down on you if you're freaked, can I? I wouldn't even feel comfortable doing that. I'm an asshole, not a monster."

I pause, every facial feature relaxing as his statement slaps me in the face. Key words: go, down, on, you, asshole, monster. Yep, only monstrous assholes go down on their enemies. I'm the very brave, very eager, very shocked recipient of this going down.

I take a deep, shaky breath, blinking at Sal who watches me with what looks like a raised eyebrow. "Okay," I breathlessly whisper. "How are you-- are you..." Why am I rambling? What kind of answer am I looking for? Obviously the prosthetic is about to come off and I just have to contain the desperate, whore-like rage within.

"Shut up, Vi," he chuckles over my nickname, grabbing onto my thighs and tugging me to the edge of the desk as he sits in his chair again. My fingertips press into the wooden surface while my heart threatens to pound its way through my ribcage. "Just let me taste you."

Cue internal screaming. I'm so going to faint-- and the addition of watching his pretty guitar-playing hands leave my skin to unbuckle his prosthetic is pushing me to astronomical heights. I don't even exist anymore. I'm just a wisp, a little phantom fairy watching her favorite sex movie play out in real time. It's called Faceless Fixation. She's the Fellatio Fairy. I don't even-- whoever is writing my life needs to give me a break.

I'm shivering like I have hypothermia by the time Sal carefully pulls the prosthetic off his face, making sure to not mess up his hair. And then he glances up at me. Bright eyes hesitant, sort of wide. Eyebrows risen just a bit and lips pressed together like he wants to say a thousand things but can't. He looks so nervous and it's a moment we can both share.

For reassurance (I think we both need it) I smile at him. Just a slight upward tilt of my lips as I press my thighs together. He's so beautiful. Every scar, every indentation, every feature, every little freckle. Just wow-- he's a sight to behold.

Sal's gaze flits to my lips, then down to my legs and he grabs onto them again, purposefully pulling them apart. His black polished nails dig into my skin as he gazes down at my underwear. I'm so used to watching his reactions and feelings portrayed only through his eyes, but watching the way his jaw tenses and the moment his lips part like he can't wait any longer makes me feel like I'll implode. 

His fingers run up my legs to my hips, dipping into my panties and pulling them downward. I gulp over the sight, relishing in the deja vu. How kind of him to not rip these this time. 

I lift myself up as he shimmies them down my legs, finally pulling them from around my ankles and holding them up for me to see. I blink, warmth rushing to my face at his boldness. And Sal, well-pleased, quirks a little seductive smile at them before switching his gaze to me.

"I haven't even touched you and you're soaked," is what he murmurs, eyes dancing over my half naked body with very little focus on my face. It's like he's glued to what hides behind my clenched thighs, eagerly awaiting what he'll find between them. "You're inflating my ego way too much," his voice is a bit louder this time-- darker, more sinister. The pronunciation of his words shows off charming, slightly crooked front teeth and sharp canines. I'll never know how I haven't ascended already.

I shiver, trying and failing to hide my reaction. But it doesn't really matter, seeing as Sal caught onto it anyway and his hooded eyes are on mine, a dangerous glint clashing with the hypnotizing azure shade of his irises. 

His hands are on my legs again, fingers roughly squeezing my skin. He isn't putting off his plans again though. When he separates my legs and I try my best not to push him away out of fear, Sal leans forward and presses his lips to the inside of my left thigh.

I take a deep, shuddering breath as I bathe in the feeling of his soft, jagged lips moving along my sensitive skin. I commit the image to memory, absolutely astonished over the way his blue eyes are closed while he inches closer and closer to my pussy.

I'm unable to take a full breath at this point, my body is tense while I try to hold myself in an upright position, pathetically falling apart as his mouth dances along the inside of my thigh like he's studied and perfected each step he takes. His hands are molded into my skin, they've become a part of me. He's pressing my thigh up to his face, leaving the most inebriating kisses. I wish he would stop teasing me already.

At the same time, I'm obsessed with the way he's handling me. Delicately, carefully, but he's in full control and making me wait. Testing me. Seeing if I'll push him, hoping I'll give him a good reason to punish me.

Sal's eyes open again, glancing up to meet mine. I suck in a breath, watching as he opens that dirty mouth of his and bites into the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh.

I hiss, wincing at the slight pain but my eyes never leave his. They could never. And he loves that, takes it as a challenge because those sky blue eyes close and he bites down harder, sucking my skin into his mouth to leave his mark. 

Some kind of satisfied, sickeningly delighted feeling swells in my chest at the knowledge of having a mark from him on my body. It's primal, it's a little weird, but I adore the idea and maybe he does too. After what he said to me about North on the flight to Nockfell, I'd guess he's more than happy to stake his claim even if it's invisible to the outside world. 

Sal finally pulls his teeth from my leg, revealing a gnarly, dark purple mark in his wake. He places a quick, soothing kiss to the abused skin before trailing his way closer to my pussy. He masks his destination with more wet kisses and bites and I'm so worked up by now that a light sheen of sweat has formed on my forehead. I can't be doing this-- this is complete torture.

"Sal," I groan out, flinching at the sinful tone of my voice. It makes him pause his movements as well. "Please," I tack on, the word quiet and agonizingly pleading.

He hums against my skin, eyes zeroed in on mine. I hate being so direct, it's terrifying, but it's worth it if it'll end up with his tongue buried in me, right? 

"Beg for it," he says lowly, a slight rasp to his voice. His tone makes me shiver, as well as his words and I would drop to my hands and knees if he told me to right now.

My lips part upon hearing him and I release a shaky breath, thighs drawing together until he stops them with his tight grip. My heart is running a marathon, my limbs are trembling and I'm wondering if maybe this is all just a really awesome dream.

"Please," I repeat, voice coming out as a whine. For once, I don't regret it because this is what he wants. "I'm desperate." I don't know how else to portray to him that I need this-- the wait is nearly excruciating. "I need to feel you."

Sal pulls away from my skin, tongue lapping at all of his bite marks before a sadistic smile pulls at his lips. "How much do you hate me?" And he's waiting, waiting for a wordy explanation of my distaste for him. But now, with the way things have changed between us-- even if it's slightly-- describing my loathing somehow feels harder.

So I snort, trying to coerce him into putting his mouth on me again regardless of the location. But all the shivers, waiting, and very slow building orgasm is slipping away into the distance. "A lot," I whisper shakily.

He gives me a look, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together as if I've disappointed him. "You can do better than that, Vi. Where's the fire?" He leans toward the thigh he hasn't captured with his mouth yet and skims his teeth along my skin. "Should I give you an example?"

I lick my lips, a sudden fluttering in my chest making me feel light headed. I hesitantly shake my head-- the longer he isn't paying attention to me, the farther I am from cumming. I can come up with something to say can't I? Of course I can. He's infuriating enough.

"Alright then," he mumbles monotonously, finally ditching my thighs. He yanks me a bit closer, eyes still rifling through my soul. "Then tell me. And if you stop," he warns as I swallow against the pounding in my chest due to his positioning, face mere inches from my sopping cunt. He's dragged this on long enough. "I stop. Keep that filthy mouth of yours moving."

He waits for me to launch into a monologue of detest. His mouth so close to my clit, breath tickling my skin and forcing a quiet little whimper from me. 

"I fucking hate the constant foul mood you're always in," I force out, feeling my heart leap into my throat the second the words leave my mouth. Because Sal keeps his promise and with an inebriating grunt of approval, he finally attaches his lips to my clit, tongue running over it like he's desperate to soak up every inch of what I have to offer.

The feeling of his mouth on my pussy is incomparable to any other type of satisfaction in the world-- this is what I've waited for. And he happily makes up for the lost time, expertly flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves and sucking it farther into his mouth. He moans against my cunt, hands dragging up my thighs to cup my ass and force me even closer to him. He squeezes my skin, a reminder to keep talking.

I dig up all the things I can't stand about him, slathering them across my brain so I can tell him about it. "You're a brick wall. No matter what I say, you refuse to listen. How come you're never open to hearing anyone out?" I whimper between words, squirming around on his desk and trying my damn hardest not to ruin any of his belongings.

Sal lifts my legs over his arms, pushing them onto his shoulders and I swear I'm about to combust. The way his tongue maps figure eights and circles around my clit does nothing to help, only sends me further toward falling apart.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fingers curling over the edge of his desk, heavy breaths and quiet moans falling past my lips no matter how badly I wish I could keep them inside. "You have some kind of God complex. You think you're right about everything, have to be in control of everything and I can't stand it. I can't stand you and your constant need to have everything you want."

His teeth graze over my clit and my mouth falls open, waves of pleasure rolling through my body like I've never experienced before. He moves downward, his tongue buried between my folds and licking up every bit of my arousal that he can get. Upon getting a better taste of me, he moans and I can feel the vibration of it everywhere, all the way up to my fingertips.

"I hate how easily you turn me on, how wet I get just from a simple touch," I admit, teeth clamping down onto my bottom lip as his tongue explores the inside of my pussy like he's been starved of me for far too long. His nails dig into my skin, the action eliciting a stinging sensation that only adds to the pleasure he's giving me. This is everything. "And you're so unfair. So pretty, so damn attractive with that horrible personality of yours. Why can't you be pretty through and through?"

I open my eyes again to watch him, drowning in the prospect of his face buried between my thighs, cheeks flushed and hair a mess. I watch as he drags his mouth up to my clit again, drawing patterns and shapes I don't care to know over the bundle of nerves. The rough, slick feeling of his tongue on such a sensitive place is addicting. So long as he's around to bring me to new heights like this, I don't need anything else. Maslow's hierarchy of needs has never been so wrong-- this is my sole need.

I can't help myself-- I reach a hand out, my fingers burying themselves into Sal's hair. It's soft. Just as soft as I knew it would be. And he doesn't seem to mind, only continues to suck on my clit and abuse it with his tongue. I close my hand into a fist, lightly tugging on his hair. I need something to hold onto.

"And your stupid fucking mouth," I groan out, sucking in a breath that never fully fills my lungs. His tongue dips into my pussy again, making another little groan follow my first. My thighs are clenched tightly at this point, quaking furiously. Sal never tries to stop me, doesn't calm me. It's clear how much he enjoys bringing me to ruin. "All the awful things you say, so many dirty words and you are so good with your tongue. I've never craved and loathed something so much in my life." 

Sal smiles against my pussy-- I watch in pure amazement as the corners of his lips curl upward like what I said was everything he's always wanted to hear. It's so lewd, so perverted and I absolutely will never forget this moment.

One of his hands lets go of my ass, trailing down my thigh again but moving to the inside this time. As his teeth gently nip at my clit and his tongue laps at my pussy, the tips of his fingers press against my opening, a silent request for more of my profession of hatred. A profession I'm more than happy to give him.

"I can't imagine how much I'll hate the way you fuck me just because I know it'll be better than any sex I've had before," I tell him, watching his mouth move against my cunt with furrowed brows and my lips parted in intrigue. Oh, he's so good at what he does. 

Sal's eyes meet mine again. Eye contact with him when he's in such an erotic position is incredibly intense. I feel like my entire body is going to crumple before he can finish me off and it all counts on if he's able to hold me up or not. But as soon as his cerulean gaze meets mine, two of his fingers sink into me. The action is slow, drawn out, and drags a nasty moan out of me in turn.

Sal whimpers against my pussy, taking care of me like he promised he would. When his fingers reach as far as they can go, he curls them, causing me to flinch at the sensuous feeling. There's so much going on to the point that every inch of my body feels impossibly overwhelmed. 

My sensitive clit gets sucked into Sal's mouth again, but then he pulls away. His fingers make up for the absence of his tongue, pounding into me in the same salacious way he's done before.

"Is that all you've got?" he grumbles breathlessly, glazed eyes glaring into mine. This is the expression I'm used to with him-- anger and dominance. 

I choke on the breath I try to take, my thighs pressing into his neck as his fingers slam in and out of my soaked cunt, digits only pausing their relentless pace to curl into me. I try to fight against my one working brain cell, try to form words for him, but-- "I can't." is all that I'm able to create, the two short words coming out as an imploring cry.

Sal stands, finger-fucking me into an alternate dimension. He hovers over me, his hair brushing my shoulders and neck. I watch him, an absolute mess beneath him but I can't look away-- even through the panting breaths that morph into whimpers and moans. 

His eyes glance between mine, seemingly contemplating something in that meticulous mind of his.

"Yea, you can, gorgeous," he grinds out behind clenched teeth, using the hand that's gripping my ass to press me against his chest. Our even closer proximity somehow forces his fingers deeper into my pussy, his thumb rubbing my clit. "Tell me more." My mouth is dry, I'm going to cum soon, and hopefully I don't actually fall over before that.

Sal takes a page out of my book, leaning closer to me and nipping at the skin of my throat. A little gasp falls past my lips and I finally let go of his hair, dragging my hand down to his neck. Those fingers work me to the core, never ceasing their movements and pushing into me with so much perfectly applied force. 

His mouth moves along the side of my neck, his lips still wet from my juices. I have no idea what gave him the confidence, but I'm not mad. Everything that couldn't be done with his prosthetic can be done now and he's taking advantage of it. "Speak," he snaps, tone not so gentle or comforting like it was when this first began. "Or else."

My mind is blank. "I'm about to cum," I begrudgingly whisper, completely overtaken by his fingers thrusting into me and his thumb focused on my oversensitive clit.

I shut my eyes, my free arm wrapping around his shoulders. Every inch of my body is tense, senses heightened and alert. I don't think I can possibly hold on any longer-- I doubt Sal needed my confirmation to tell that I'm close.

His digits curl into me again, repeating the action. I follow up with a loud whimper, my nails digging into the skin of his neck as he sucks on the skin behind my ear. I wish he'd have ditched the prosthetic sooner because I've really been missing out.

The hand still gripping onto my butt retreats to my stomach, fingers disappearing under my shirt and crawling across my ribs to my bra. He treats it as if it isn't even there, hand easily dipping beneath the fabric. His palm envelops my breast, squeezing gently and massaging the skin. It's such a considerate touch compared to the way he treats the rest of my body-- he knows exactly where the sweet spots are. 

"Cum," he commands, lips brushing the shell of my ear and fingers pounding into my sore cunt, thumb running over my hardened nipple.

My head drops onto his shoulder and with one more curl of his fingers, I do as he says and fall apart in his arms. I burst almost instantly, doing anything to keep myself silent over the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the inside of my pussy, riding me through my orgasm just like he did the first time. My teeth sink into his shoulder, a muffled whimper following soon after. Sal tenses up in my arms, a pleasured breath falling from his mouth and fanning over the side of my neck.

"Good girl," he purrs into my ear, lips skimming over the warm skin at my throat. He leaves one more sloppy kiss to my neck then pulls away to look into my eyes again. I can hardly hear anything he says as my teeth are forced away from his shoulder, still reeling from the orgasm that slammed into me nearly unannounced. My limbs feel like jelly as chills run up my spine. "You listen to me so well," he continues. I can't even look into his eyes; I just watch the way his lips move. How his tongue presses into the back of his teeth to pronounce a syllable. His sharp canines that undoubtedly left their own bruises on my skin. 

I gulp, unable to peel my eyes away from the mouth that masterfully brought me to climax. For the first time ever, I wonder what his mouth would feel like against mine. How soft his scarred lips would feel, not on my skin, but captured by my own. What his tongue would taste like. What his teeth would feel like nipping at my lips. 

Sal doesn't move away from me-- keeps our close proximity with his nose nearly brushing my mask's. He slowly, delicately pulls his fingers out of me but only continues to gaze into my eyes.

This is dangerous territory. Very dangerous. Because the impossible is coursing through me right now and I... somehow can't find it in me to hate him in this exact moment.

But then he blinks. Stands to his full height, moving away from me. His azure gaze turns to the desk I'm sitting on and he grabs my panties, offering them to me. Not an ounce of emotion evident on his face. I'd always wondered what he'd look like simply because I was curious if his face gave away his emotions better than his eyes could. It's pretty impressive how he's able to keep a straight mug though, RBF and all. Especially when he lifts the hand he fingered me with to his mouth and licks my cum off. He doesn't even look at me as his tongue runs up the length of his digit, just turns away from me and walks to the other side of the room.

I'm floored, jaw dropped and pussy wet. Again. That's really fucking hot.

I watch him strut away, follow his movements as he drops to his haunches and opens up his suitcase with his clean hand. He grabs something then faces me again, beginning to walk back with a finger still in his mouth.

My chest tightens at the sight. He can't be doing this to me. Not when Larry is going to be home any minute-- he needs to keep both his hands at his sides.

Thankfully, Sal has some mercy on me and finally finishes cleaning his fingers, eyes darting up to mine again. He walks up to me, right where I'm still sitting on top of his desk and drops fabric onto my bare thighs.

My brows furrow and I look down, grabbing lace. I lift it up, unfolding it to see that it's a near replica of the lace underwear he'd ripped off of me in Vegas. Only it's a completely brand new pair. No rips, no issues. My heart swells a bit at the gesture-- he bought a new pair like I'd told him to. I wasn't even serious, but he did it anyway.

I puff out my cheeks, contemplating what to say. Thank you's are virtually nonexistent between us. My eyes flit up to meet his again and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching me.

"You taste good," he nonchalantly comments, causing an infuriating blush to heat my cheeks.

"Thanks," I murmur, holding up the lace panties to show that I'm thankful for them too. "You taste pretty good too." He does. I'll have to return the favor to him when I get the chance.

A barely audible snort comes from him and I almost smile. 

"I'd fuck you, but Larry will be back any minute and Ash probably isn't far behind him," he says, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. "I suggest you put your clothes back on. Panties are clean, I washed them."

My eyebrows raise and I pinch my lips together. Huh. "How kind of you," I say half sarcastically. Only half because it's helpful that they are clean-- it's almost like he knew he'd place me in a predicament where I needed fresh underwear. "You trying to kick me out?" I add. Of course he is, I'm just trying to make my way out of here as awkward-less as possible.

"Hell yea," he says proudly, "I have shit to do."

"Are you calling me a distraction?" I ask, looking toward him as I shimmy my underwear and shorts up my legs then start working on the button.

Sal tilts his head, hand on the doorknob. "And a mild aggravation."

"Oh, wow," I gasp, feigning surprise. "Mild? I must be working my way onto your good side."

"Fuck me good enough and we'll see how far you get," he replies, eyes watching my every move but face still unreadable as I begin walking toward him. 

I roll my eyes. Of course. I pinch my lips together and give him a disinterested look. This is my lesson to never try to have a casual conversation with him again. He clearly doesn't want it, which, fair. Our agreement is sex, not friendship. "Okay," I say dramatically when he opens the door for me. "Bye, Sal."

The man nods his head, acknowledging the shift in the room. His eyes stay glued to mine like they have been the entire time I've been here. Now that I'm not distracted by his mouth on my pussy, I realize that this is an odd thing for him to do. He looks at me every once in a while, but not in such a... scrutinizing way. 

He purses his lips and says, "Bye, y/n."

Every nerve-ending in my body suddenly shuts off. Everything is still. I have no thoughts for a moment, no physical reaction. Just stillness. I don't breathe, I don't move. I just watch him.

There's no way— he has to have mixed up my names. It has to be that.

And then everything hits me. Sal Fisher just said my name. And not the fake one that I've been hiding behind. He said my actual name— the one that's on my birth certificate. And now my hands are shaking, my heart is racing, my breaths are uneven, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"What the fuck," I say shakily. I'm not ready for this. I'm going to completely switch his thought process around-- "did you just say?"

The look in his eyes changes, they light up a bit as if he's caught me. And still he decides to mess with me. "Huh?" he innocently asks.

Okay, I'd really like to wake up now.

My eyes narrow. So that's the game he wants to play? This isn't the time and I don't have the mental capacity to handle this. Not only am I recovering from a mind-blowing orgasm, but I was just getting over the overwhelming anxiety I suffered from yesterday.

"I'm not y/n, if that's what you're thinking," I rush to tell him, even adding in the fakest little smirk I've ever slapped onto my face. Anything to get him off my tail, whatever I can think of to save my ass. This really can't be happening to me.

He's still watching me speculatively and it's making my brain itch. "You know," he finally starts, voice disgustingly pleased. "I went out on a limb with that one." I watch in horror as a little smirk begins to grow on his face. I don't want to accept it yet, I really don't, but I think I'm fucked and not physically. 

At the end of the day, he's still managed to fuck me in multiple ways. I cannot stand Sal Fisher.

"What are you even talking about?" I ask him, clearing my throat quietly while taking a safe step out of his door and into the living room. I try my best to keep my eyes on him while extinguishing the fear from my gaze. If I act horrified, he'll sniff me out instantly. That is, if he hasn't already.

Sal chuckles deeply— it's, shockingly, an amused and prideful one rather than something sick, dark, and twisted. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. I try my best not to adore the way his scars stretch with his laugh and the sight of his pretty teeth. "Any other woman would have assumed I was sleeping with someone else if I called them by another name," he says lightheartedly, tilting his head down a bit. "But you didn't. And that can only mean that I'm right."

I open my mouth to decline, fear thrumming through me. He caught me red handed. I can't fucking believe this.

"And don't try to deny it, you won't change my mind. I've been very sure of who you are for months now."

My head slowly begins to shake of its own accord. He never fails to shock me. "How..."

Sal shrugs. "You couldn't have timed your introduction more horrendously. Think about it," he says, chewing on his bottom lip. "I bitch at y/n over a phone call, then the next day, a wild VioletViolence pops into my life and isn't too surprised by my shitty personality. The second you were added to the Discord server, I had my suspicions." He shrugs nonchalantly, like the confirmation doesn't bother him in the slightest. "I talked it over with Larry and Todd too. They're pretty sure of your identity as well. They were just nice enough to wait for you to tell us on your own." His eyes narrow, sly like a fox. "But I'm not nice and wanted to know for myself. Wanted to scare you a bit too."

I swallow over the bile rising in my throat. Scare me, he did. I have no idea what to do with myself. I must look like a deer in headlights nearing its death sentence. "It... it doesn't bother you?" I decide to ask in a small voice, unable to blink as I watch him closely.

That same smug little smile is still lighting up his marred face as he says, "Regardless, I still can't stand you and I'll still fuck you stupid."

-----------

A/N::::::: OMFFGGGGG I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR AGESSSSSS PLEASE!!! more specifically the end of it! i've had this last scene written since like... 2022 o_O 

i want to give a HUGE thanks to my very good friend, Phoebe, who inspired me to write the catalyst of the smut scene with this AMAZING piece of art that they drew :3 i am soooo so grateful for having the opportunity to see the art in general, but getting to write it too??? OMG so incredibly grateful <33

side note: this is my first time writing a smut scene like this one-- well, actually any time i write a different kind of sex it's new for me LMFAO i am exploring EVERYTHINGGGG and i also have no idea if this is any good. so like last chapter, if y'all could give me some tips or things you like and didn't like, i would GREATLY appreciate it :3

i'm going catch up on my neglected homework. as always, have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night. my heart belongs to all of you <3

[aromanticannibal]

Post-totk headcanons!

heavy spoilers ahead

ZELDA.

this woman spent millenia as a dragon she is going to have goddamn antlers.

so yeah, she keeps small antlers. they glow. big golden eyelashes too, eyes keep a strange glow to them

she's generally more eldritch.

I think she tends to have more memory issues after coming back. nothing too bad, but she struggles a bit sometimes.

Now Link- he does not just get back his arm. Amputate that man.

yeah so he loses his right arm from a bit above the elbow once Rauru disappears for good and takes his arm and magic back.

He gets phantom pains and all, sometimes he reaches for ultrahand and is just like. ah yeah

he takes it pretty well honestly. Purah and Zelda figure out how to make him a prosthesis and he wears it most of the time, but doesn't like it that much - he just would hate to get caught by surprise by monsters or the Yiga and fumble w/ his left arm.

Zelda and Link are always together after totk happens, but like. even more always together. And it's not just Link protecting Zelda anymore, she's protecting him too.

I think she gains a sort of very faint healing power from her time as the light dragon, so she tries to find ways to always be touching Link so he doesn't get too hurt

Mainly because he has the habit to just. not say when he's hurt, or when something's wrong.

The sages ask a lot about their ancestors, and Zelda loves to tell them and Link everything about her time in the past. She warns that she may not remember everything well, but they don't really care.

more than 100 years after the calamity started, some of the champions are starting to get forgotten - mainly, Revali and Urbosa. Daruk literally has his face carved in a moutain and the Zora live so long that most of them still remember Mipha, but Revali and Urbosa are really becoming more legend than anything. Link and Zelda make sure people remember them.

After everything starts to calm down, Link is forbidden from coming into Gerudo Town again, unless there's something happening and he has to come and protect the city, so Zelda visits often and tells him all about how everyone's doing. Riju sometimes comes out of the town and goes on walks with Zelda and Link.

Link spends a lot of time in Rito Village, telling the kids about Revali and how annoying he was- but mostly about how strong and skilled as an archer he was. He doesn't want Revali to be forgotten.

Sidon is so stressed lmao, Link visits him often. He brings gifts for him and Yona and spends time with them and everyone at the Domain. Sidon is very thankful for his friend.

Link hangs out a lot around Mipha's statue, just letting her watch over him. it's one of the rare places he feels safe enough to put his sword down and just relax.

Tulin is SUCH an excitable little bird child. He loves hanging out with Link. They're siblings I'm deciding right NOW

Link shows Zelda his dream house in Akkala and she just loses it. Link. Link you put my paintings around? Link you out our favorite flowers here? Link you got a bigger bed for the both of us? Link our horses are here? Link I'm Going To Marry You

They move here and make the house in Hateno a safe house for everyone in the village and every traveler that might come. They place travel gates near both houses so they can still go to the school.

They get married because I said so-

Back in the King's time the wedding would've been really big and public and annoying, but Zelda isn't having it. She does make a public announcement that they are getting married, but the actual wedding is a small thing (lol small).

They get married under Satori Mountain's cherry blossoms, and invite the sages, Yona, Purah, Impa, Paya, a lot of the kiddos they met in their adventures, etc. they wear flower crowns too. Link cries. Zelda cries. Everyone cries.

Link doesn't really become King because the second Zelda goes yeah you're kinda legally King now he just goes EW. NOPE.

So Link stays the Queen's knight, they're just yknow. wed.

Hyrule is rebuilt! Nothing bad happens again! because I cannot have these babies hurting again

I think Zelda learns how to fight cuz like. Come on this girl is definitely going to want to explore the Depths and Link is not going to let her go in there without a sword.

She's going to love Froxes. like so much. They're Frogs Link!!!! They Are Frogs

She finds she's most comfortable with a bow and gets a strong golden bow made for her (not the bow of light but something similar, way less powerful) and a shield cuz like goddess pls use shields people

edit after finding the dusk bow and that one person in the notes said she should get the dusk bow she gets the dusk bow

omg they build cities in the sky. They make big ass stairs.

anyways pls add on if u got headcanons for post totk.

[tameodesza]

Closure

Summary: They were lovers once. Two halves destined to entwine. But life had a way of beating them down, cracking their happy façade, leaving two broken halves that could never fit again. AO3 link

The scent of fresh baked goods and roasted coffee wafted pleasantly through the air. The clinking of porcelain coffee mugs and pastry dishes blended harmoniously with the lively chatter in the quaint cafe. Smooth jazz flowed softly from large speakers, adding to the ambience of the night. The energy was vibrant and inviting to anyone that walked by. 

But it was a mockery to the pair that sat at a tiny table tucked away in the corner. Their silence was as loud as the noise around them. The air between them was heavy to breathe, suffocating them with memories of a life they once shared.  

Eyes traced cracks in the worn-out wooden table. Coffee mugs remained untouched, resting in the center of the table like a line drawn in sand. Except they were a long way away from waving any white flags. 

They were lovers once. Two halves destined to entwine. Bret – an older man that took life too seriously. Shawn – a vibrant younger man full of life. They were polar opposites, yet they fit together perfectly like pieces of a puzzle.  

But life had a way of beating them down, cracking their happy façade, leaving two broken halves that could never fit again. 

Bret’s eyes slowly traveled to Shawn’s hands resting on the table. He took note of Shawn’s nails. Freshly bitten, a nervous habit Bret tried to get him out of.  

Shawn balled his hands into a fist and leaned back uncomfortably after noticing Bret’s gaze. He avoided the man's eyes as he whispered, “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we fought harder?” 

Bret clenched his fist. "We fought, Shawn. We fought until we had no fight left. Until one of us took the easy way out." 

Shawn sharply darted his eyes to Bret’s. “You think ruining our relationship was easy for me?” 

There it was. A split second of Shawn’s combative nature that Bret had grown used to. He’d been on the receiving end of it one too many times not to recognize it. He pressed, “You didn’t try hard enough to stop it.” 

The quick comeback he expected from Shawn never came. Instead, an aching silence stretched between them. The noise of the cafe faded further into the background as they sank deeper into the abyss of unspoken words. 

Their eyes met again, and Bret tried his best not to look concerned when he saw the teary eyes Shawn was trying to blink away. “I,” Shawn’s voice caught in his throat. He let out a defeated breath and confessed, “I miss you.”  

Bret closed his eyes, dropping his head as he let out a deep breath. He struggled not to say it back. Had it been the old him, he would've given in. He would've opened his arms to Shawn. Embraced him lovingly, asking that they forget about the past. To start over. He would’ve forgiven Shawn for the hurt he put him through – just for their toxic cycle to repeat.  

But Bret wasn’t the same man he was years ago. He was different then, naïve to believe Shawn cared for anyone other than himself.  

Bret's jaw tightened, meeting Shawn’s eyes again with an icy glare. "Miss me? Or miss what we used to be?" 

There was a crack in Shawn’s voice. "Both." He swallowed thickly, a weak attempt to control his emotions. It wasn't easy when the man he’d loved sat across from him with dead eyes. He hadn’t just lost Bret as a lover, but also as a friend. 

Bret was so different from the men Shawn usually came across. Instead of the quick hookup Shawn was expecting, Bret spent the first few months getting to know him as a friend. It was...different for him. Weird, even, to have a man genuinely care about his thoughts and opinions. To ask him about his day or what’s troubling him. To give him advice to better his life.  

Shawn grew to appreciate Bret’s company. He’d told him things he hadn’t even told his closest friends or family. And by the time Bret finally asked him out on a date, Shawn was ready to open his heart to the man, along with his legs.  

Had he known what was to come, he would’ve cherished that friendship more than he had, as he’d never found a friendship like that again.  

Bret glanced down at their coffee cups, daring to cross that line. For so long, he wondered how he would react if he ever saw Shawn again. He figured he’d call him every name in the book, as if he hadn’t said enough years ago. Rub it in his face that he’s thriving without him. Maybe even ask him how Hunter’s doing just to be petty. Shawn deserved to feel even an ounce of the pain he’d endured. 

‘You need closure, Bret. Just hear him out.’  

That had been Owen’s advice. Of course it had. Owen and Shawn grew close over the years of their relationship. Owen was the only one in Bret's circle that believed they’d work. He didn’t care about the rumors that spread around town about Shawn being easy and a troublemaker. All he knew was that Shawn put a smile on Bret’s grumpy face. But since the breakup, Bret hadn't smiled the same. When Shawn reached out asking for help to get in contact with Bret, Owen couldn't refuse. 

Bret should’ve declined. He had every reason to. He’d grown so resentful and bitter festering over Shawn’s betrayal. 

He was bitter that he ignored the blatant red flags. Bitter that after the relationship ended, he wasn’t met with sympathy from his friends, but I-told-you-so’s.  

Bitter that Shawn allowed his clique of friends to sow doubts in his mind and fill his head with lies such as ‘You've changed since being with him, Shawn. You need to gain some independence.’ or ‘Bret wants you docile and submissive like his last wife.’ It took a few arguments of Shawn hurling those same words at him for Bret to figure out where they stemmed from. 

Above all, Bret was bitter that he trusted Shawn’s word when he told him he and Hunter were just friends. 

‘He’s no one to worry about, babe.’ 

And like a fool, Bret believed him. But Shawn had been really convincing. If Bret ever questioned their closeness, Shawn would accuse Bret of being jealous, of not trusting him. He’d cry in a way that always made Bret give in. He’d convince Bret that he was being paranoid. That he was reading too much into things, further leading to Bret's self-doubt. 

But there was no escaping reality when Shawn came home late one night after a Christmas party, teary eyed as he revealed that he and Hunter had slept together.  

“Have another drink, Shawn,” Hunter urged. “I thought you were drinking for both of us.” 

Shawn shook his head in refusal. “I shouldn't. Bret wouldn’t like me coming home smelling like liquor.”  

Scott rolled his eyes with a groan. He mocked, “Bret this, Bret that. God you’d think the guy was your old man. I’m surprised he even let you out the house tonight.” 

Shawn snapped. “He cares about me. Find you a man that’ll do the same.” His friends hooted and hollered in amusement at the sassy comeback. “Look, I’m just trying to respect my relationship.” 

Kevin chimed, “But does he respect you enough to let you be yourself? I mean come on, Shawn. You've never been this meek. One more drink won’t hurt.” 

Except one more drink turned into another, and it wasn't long before the night became a blur. 

Shawn still didn’t understand how it happened. One moment everything was normal. They were eating Christmas cookies, drinking spiked eggnog, dancing to classic Christmas songs, singing horribly on Kevin’s karaoke machine. The next moment he and Hunter were making out under the mistletoe oblivious of their friends rooting them on.  

Shawn wished at least one of them had stopped him. They knew how strongly Shawn felt for Bret, but they still encouraged him to hook up with Hunter anyway. But it wasn't fair to blame them. It was ultimately Shawn’s decision, and the moment Hunter led him upstairs and shut the bedroom door behind them, there was no turning back.  

Shawn had barely come down from his orgasm when the shame set in. But it was too late. The damage had been done. And he couldn't find it within himself to keep it from Bret. 

That had been a long night: Bret screaming. Shawn begging Bret to listen to him. Bret threatening to find Hunter and kill him. Shawn begging Bret to stay. Bret kicking Shawn out of his house, shouting in his face that they were done. Shawn crying on the front steps, only leaving when Bret threatened to call the cops. 

Bret still remembered how numb he felt watching Shawn pull out of his driveway. If it hadn’t been the cheating, it would’ve been something else. At least that’s what he told himself to better cope with the pain.  

Their relationship had been anything but peachy. Arguments, jealousy, petty revenge. The whole nine. But even all of that hadn’t prepared Bret for the heartbreak to come.  

Bret struggled to stay in steady relationships after that. For a long while, he indulged himself in men and women, trying to fill the void Shawn left in his heart. But he’d been too broken to love anyone else.  

No one could ever be Shawn. He’d never gotten over him. And that made Bret the most bitter of all.  

Now, years later, instead of hurtful words or petty jabs, there was only one question that rested on his tongue. 

“Was it worth it?” 

Shawn would’ve laughed if he didn’t feel like crying. He wished he could say it was worth it. There’d been too much pain and suffering for it not to be. But in reality, he’d lost Bret. He and Hunter didn’t even talk anymore. His friend group was in shambles. He’d lost it all for one night of lust. 

“No.” 

Bret should’ve been happy to hear that. He should’ve gloated over it. But no joy came as he looked at Shawn – really looked at him. His eyes were distant, face sunken with loss of sleep, baby fat slimmed to gaunt cheekbones. He looked as if one wrong word would send him spiraling. And Bret knew more than anyone how dangerous things got for Shawn in that state. 

Bret hated that he softened. Hated that Shawn still had a hold on his heart. It wasn’t fair to him. He deserved to spit in Shawn’s face and stomp on any dignity the blond had left. But he couldn’t do it.  

Bret reached across the table and gripped the base of his coffee mug. In doing so, knuckles brushed slightly against the side of Shawn’s hand resting nearby.  

Shawn inhaled. It was just the slightest of touch, but it took everything in him not to react, not to look hopeful. But there’s relief when Bret didn’t pull away.  

"We were fire and ice, Shawn. We never should’ve worked.”  

“But we did, Bret. For years, we made it work. Until…until I fucked it all up.” Shawn shook his head at the memory. “I never meant to hurt you.”  

“But you did.” 

There was a small pause, sorrow reflecting in both of their eyes. Shawn nodded. “I did. I will always be sorry for what I put you through.” 

Accountability. That was something Bret thought he’d never hear from the blond. Shawn had too much pride. They both did, which was one of many reasons they butted heads so often. But it was also one of the reasons why they loved as hard as they did.  

They stayed like that, hands touching ever so slightly. Their coffee grew cold and forgotten, neither making the move to part.  

There was a soft rumble of thunder and rain began to fall, tapping against the window as if to excuse the interruption.  

Shawn glanced at the window, looking past his reflection to see the street he and Bret once roamed hand-in-hand. Bittersweet memories crept to the forefront. 

Across the street was the bakery Bret took him for their first date. It’d also been where they shared their first kiss. 

They sat in the sweet-smelling bakery shyly holding hands under the table. Shawn was first to finish his cupcake, and with his hands no longer occupied, it only made sense to fill it with Bret’s.  

Shawn watched with hungry eyes as Bret finished his last bite, licking the frosting off his fingertips. “You missed a spot.” 

“Hm?” Bret looked down at his hand, finding it spotless. 

Shawn peered over his shoulder to check that no one was looking. When the coast was clear, he leaned forward and boldly licked the vanilla bean frosting off the corner of Bret’s mouth before pecking him softly on the lips.  

A few doors down was the fancy restaurant they frequented just because Shawn thought they had fire breadsticks.  

Bret grunted in his usual way as he looked over the menu. “This place is way too overpriced just to keep coming back for breadsticks.” 

Shawn was in the middle of eating said breadstick when he whined, “But they're so damn good, babe.” 

Bret had half the mind to scold him for talking with his mouth open like a child, but he smiled the way he usually did when Shawn melted his heart. 

Tucked out of sight, unless you looked hard enough, sat a unisex lingerie shop that led to so many fun nights. 

There was barely enough space in the cramped fitting room, but that didn’t stop Shawn from dragging Bret in for his opinion. “You like?” 

Bret choked on his words at seeing Shawn’s getup. Heart-shaped nipple tassels, elbow-length laced gloves, fishnets, tight leather mini skirt that barely covered his ass, and fluffy kitten heels he struggled to stand in. 

Bret hooked his fingers into the waistband of the skirt and hastily pulled Shawn forward. Shawn’s hands fell onto Bret’s shoulders to steady his balance. He was slightly taller now with the heels, but that didn’t stop Bret from diving for Shawn’s lips, tonguing him down until they were both out of breath. He panted, “I love it. But I want to rip it off right here.” 

“Wait for tonight, daddy.” 

Shawn almost smiled remembering how beet-red Bret’s face was when they walked in, and how rock hard he was by the time they walked out. 

They had some fun times. Wild, but fun.  

Now, he could only watch as happy couples, both young and old, walked by making claim of the same places he and Bret once deemed theirs. Much like the coffee shop they were sitting in – where they’d first met.   

Shawn looked away from the glass with thoughts of what could’ve been. He looked at Bret, following the lines in that face he’d known so well – aged from time and stress.  

Bret looked into Shawn’s eyes, never failing to get lost in the sea of blue. He wasn’t one for making wishes, but he wished things had been different. He yearned for a chance to go back to that night and stop Shawn from going to that damn party.  

“You’re seriously going to skip out on Christmas dinner? My mom’s been looking forward to this all year, Shawn-” 

“I told you weeks ago that there was a change of plans!” 

“For a fucking party!” 

“It doesn't matter! You chose to keep that from her because you thought I'd change my mind.  That’s your fucking fault your mom’s disappointed! Not me!” Shawn went for the front door but was blocked by Bret. “Move.” 

“If you leave out that door, I know exactly where our relationship stands.” 

It was a silent threat, one laced with an undertone that had Shawn second-guessing his next step. But when he turned around to see the aftermath of their argument – a flower vase Bret gifted Shawn for his birthday now knocked over from their tussle, a picture of them kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower now encased by a cracked frame where Shawn’s keys had been thrown, a hole punched in the wall they spent so many hours painting together – that Shawn knew he needed some space from Bret. 

He straightened his ruffled jacket and rushed past Bret without a word. 

Bret had intended on making up as soon as he heard Shawn’s keys rattle in the door. He wanted to apologize for his actions, plead that he’ll do better, maybe even squeeze in a round of sex if Shawn was up for it. But they’d never had the chance after Shawn’s confession.  

Bret couldn’t help but wonder if things would have been different had he loosened the reins a bit. It took some time and self-reflection for him to realize just how possessive and controlling he was of Shawn.  

He’d met Shawn at a point in his life where he’d given up on love. Where he accepted he’d be alone forever and thought he was ok with that. Shawn made him believe in love again. Gave him a purpose in life. Selfishly, Bret wanted to keep him to himself.  

Now with his mind no longer clouded by anger, Bret came to the conclusion that maybe he drove Shawn into the arms of another man. 

Bret cleared his dry throat. “What could I have done to…not make this happen?” 

The guilt felt like a punch to the gut. Shawn gave another thick swallow as tears welled again. “Nothing, Bret. You did nothing wrong. None of this was your fault. It was all me.” 

Bret flexed his jaw to refrain from wiping at the tears collecting in the corner of Shawn’s eyes. “We both know that’s not true. You did what you did. There's no doubting that. But our relationship was fucked way before that night. I wasn’t always the…nicest to you. Couldn’t have expected you to stay around.” 

“Bret. Please don’t say that.” 

“I wasn’t an angel, Shawn. Following you around. Invading your privacy. Fighting your exes. Blaming you for shit you hadn’t done. Taking my anger out on you. The…the abuse-” 

“You never hit me.” 

“Verbal’s just as bad as physical, Shawn. Throwing shit around in the heat of the moment, shit that could’ve hit you, was just as bad. None of it was ok. And… I’m sorry.” 

It took a lot of growth for Bret to admit that. For a while, he’d blamed Shawn for everything that’d gone wrong in his life. But he knew he played a role in it, too. It didn't excuse Shawn for what he did, but he regretted his actions that led to Shawn feeling the need to seek out comfort in someone else.  

Shawn wasn’t ready to hear it. He’d spent so long hating himself, being called a slut by Bret’s friends, being condemned by Bret’s family, isolating himself from his own friend group, that any accountability on Bret’s part wasn’t to be expected.  

Shawn shook his head, eyes focused on the wrist where Bret once wore a bracelet he’d hand-crafted for him. “We were both assholes to each other.” 

Bret gave a sad smile. That was something they could agree on. “We were, weren’t we? Love makes people do crazy things.”  

“Stupid things. Guess we should've taken up your mom’s offer on couple’s therapy, huh?” 

“We did, remember? We barely lasted a session after you stormed out calling the lady a bitch.” 

“Oh. Right.” Shawn nervously scratched behind his ear. “I’ve never been good at admitting I was wrong...but to be fair, she was a bitch.” 

Bret let out a humored breath, and Shawn’s eyes flitted to Bret's before letting out a small laugh of his own.  

For that short moment, it felt like old times. Back when things were simple. Back before their trust had been broken. Back before they’d hurt each other beyond repair. Back when they dreamt of what their future would be together. All before everything turned into a nightmare. 

The headlights of a beat-up Chevy grabbed their attention. It parked on the curb across from the coffee shop before the lights flashed on and off.  

Bret sighed as he unwrapped his hand from his mug. “That’s Owen.” 

They both knew what he really meant. This was it. Their time had come to a close.  

But Bret didn't move. Like a moth to a flame, he lingered a moment longer around the blaze that was Shawn Michaels. They were both entranced in their gaze, eyes pleading for the other to stay. And when Bret seriously considered it, he knew he had to leave. 

Owen’s headlights flickered again, and Bret stood abruptly from his seat. Shawn eyed the table in disappointment.  

“Thank you for the good times we shared.” There was a small crack in Bret’s voice, one he hid with a cough before saying, “Take care of yourself, Shawn.” 

Shawn held his breath as Bret walked towards him. He kept his eyes on the table, not trusting himself to let Bret go if he watched him leave. He exhaled once the man passed him. Bret was only a few steps behind when Shawn dared to ask, “Will we ever meet again?” 

Bret came to a stop and glanced over his shoulder, meeting the back of Shawn’s head – a blessing in disguise because if he’d seen his face, he may have ran back. 

He answered stiffly, “It’s probably best if we don’t. Goodbye, Shawn.” 

Shawn closed his eyes with a whispered, “Goodbye, Bret.”  

Bret’s steps blended in with the bustling noise of the coffee shop as he left. Neither man looked back. If they had, they would've seen the single tear that ran down each other’s cheek. 

Shawn sat motionlessly as his tears multiplied and slowly ran down his face. The bitter taste lingered on his lips, just as bitter as the cold coffee in his cup. 

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

https://www.tumblr.com/sizzlingpatrolfox/758487328999243776/so-was-jimin-supposed-to-go-after-him-always?source=share

Have you ever had that type of friend where you feel like you're the one carrying the friendship and the moment you stop trying you and this friend wouldn't see each other anymore? Jimin saying that if he didn't go to the US when he did the show wouldn't have happened doesn't surprise me. Remember the whole dance video thing last year and how Jungkook acted like the other members wouldn't want to do it with him when we all know they would've if he just asked?

I think he's that type of person that never initiates anything, he's just always waiting for other people to start things for him. I mean, he's even like that with his carrer. The fact that as early as beginning of 2022 Jimin was already working on his album, but a whole year after that by the beginning of 2023 and Jungkook still didn't seem to have any plans. If it wasn't for SB he wouldn't even have released an album.

I was thinking that I don't know how Jimin has the patience for him then I remembered my younger sibling is the same way where I always have to be the one to seek them out. So I get it Jimin, is that older sibling life. Which is fine when it's your sibling, but if this was my boyfriend there's no way I would let that shit slide. And that really sums up their relationship to me: Mostly fine for a friendship but shitty for a romantic relationship.

You've made several points.. especially the one about the dance challenges which I hadn't thought about now these days, but I remember that when he said that I wrote about how he was obviously lying and he didn't even ask the members to make a video with him. He just didn't ask them, the way I'm 10000% sure he never texted Jimin personally, or "formally" invited him over. I mean, not while he was on live.

The night JK went live and fell asleep with the camera on he said he didn't have anything to do the next day. If I recall correctly it was the same night he went to the theatre with wooga, then went back home and passed out drunk.

That same night Jimin was posting Instagram stories from his home, watching Hoseok and Yoongi videos. If I recall correctly, the next day he went to visit Jin with Hoseok. Later, he said they'd gone to see him because both him and Hoseok had that day off.

If you're in touch with someone you'd know if not only one but two of people who are supposedly close to you are going to meet another friend. He could've gone visit Jin as well.

People think all that started in March 2023 when it had been happening since long before. August 2022, Jimin spent like three weeks in the USA? Then he flew back to Korea and that same night, Jungkook was out eating with some people. So for the people who think they're dating, Jimin's away for like a month and his boyfriend doesn't get dinner with him when he arrives? Before world cup openings ceremony too, Jungkook went bowling with Taehyung. Around those same days they were together at the paradise hotel.

So Jungkook has time to hook up with women at his home, but not to grab dinner with Jimin?

I really can't fathom the level of self deception those who believe they're boyfriends must be putting themselves through. It's not 2+2 at this point, it's 2+2+2+2+2+2 like. There are so many factors.

I also found these posts, I took screenshots because I have to click everywhere on my phone to add the link and this is easier. But these are from March 3rd 2023.

I also remember briefly bringing up Tom Holland and Zendaya, you know, a real couple. And how they were seen together more times than jikook were seen together in two years, and Tom and Zendaya don't even live in the same continent lol. I think I got some anons trying to lecture ME on queer people and how to live like a queer person in a gay relationship, compared to disgusting heteros like tomdaya.

Anyways. I really don't think I'll reply to more asks about this because it's so repetitive. There really isn't much to say. They aren't dating each other, they're just very dear friends, obviously.

Finally.. Does anyone have the screenshot of Hoseok's ig story on his birthday last year? I'm almost scared I might've dreamed it because I can't find it anywhere but I'm sure he posted a picture of a cake or flowers? and tagged Jimin, as if Jimin had brought those to him the night of his birthday, after the live in the company.

[mikachacha]

𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛) 𝙿𝚝. 5

Synopsis: You finally left Bada for good but you're struggling to get back on your feet.

Warnings: mentions of depression, angst, bullying, cursing

(A/N: y'all this has been such an emotional journey for all of us and i really thank you guys for the support you've given 🫶🫶)

| Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

You arrived in the states and it felt like you were nothing but a shell of the person you used to be. You talked to your family and they were amazing support system for you. You were slowly trying to heal but there were times that felt like time stood still and you're paralyzed in the moment of grief and sorrow from what Bada put you through for months. You'd often find yourself crying yourself to sleep, questioning why that happened to you and what went wrong that made your relationship turn like that. You always blamed yourself for everything went wrong until your family intervened and told you to get into therapy.

You were reluctant at first but it turned out it was everything you needed. All you ever wanted and all you ever needed was for someone to listen to you, for someone to tell you that your feelings are valid and important. It felt like you were slowly coming back to life after months. You slowly bounced back, started going out, made friends and even went on a few dates but nothing way too serious as you're making sure you're emotionally available for this next person you'll love. You didn't want the next person to feel like you're still being held back by your past and that you're only using them to move on. You don't want them to go through the same pain as you have gone through.

Bada on the other hand has drowned herself with work as she didn't want to remember you and all the things she did to you. She regretted everything, the guilt is eating her alive. All you did was love her, all you did was care for her but she played with you, she took advantage of your kindness, your love, your vulnerability. She took you for granted and she knows she won't ever have you back considering all the things that happened between you and her but she's still hoping, wishing and praying that she sees you one more time and tell you how sorry she is for doing everything she did.

She was linked to different people, some celebrities and some were not but she didn't date anyone after you. She didn't trust herself to get into another relationship. She's scared of doing the same thing she did to you. She heard from your friends and family that you're going through therapy and it took you a year to be remotely okay. When Bada heard, she broke down in the studio. She was crying from guilt and self loathing. She hated herself, still hates herself for doing those to you. Oh how she wishes she can turn back time and make things right but she knows she can't. She can only hope and pray that you'll be okay, and that maybe someday she'll be able to speak to you and ask for forgiveness.

Three years has passed and you were back in Korea but this time for a job. You were hired as a translator for Jam Republic, an international group who's been invited to participate in the second season of Street Woman Fighter 2. Your family were a bit hesitant to let you go back considering what happened three years ago but you told them that you'll be okay. You have forgiven Bada and have forgiven yourself as it was something that happened and you had no control over it. You wanted to move forward in your life though there's still an ache in your heart whenever your thoughts drift to Bada. If only things didn't go that way, if only things didn't go bad between you, you would've been celebrating three years together, maybe got married along the way like how you planned it together before.

"Be safe there, alright? Talk to us if you need anything.." your mom says as they sent you off to the airport. You hugged your parents tight and nodded your head. You grabbed your bags before getting in the cab that will take you to the airport. You're hoping that with your return, Korea gives you better memories than the memories you had three years prior.

You met with the girls and they were amazing. It felt like you just gained yourself sisters. Ling and Kirsten were the motherly type, Latrice is the fun middle child while Emma and Audrey are sweet yet chaotic youngsters. You're having fun with your work, everyone's great and everything's going well. You were running around, doing errands the studio as the filming for Street Woman Fighter is starting. You were way too busy that you accidentally bumped someone, your papers falling to the ground. You rushed to pick it up and the person did the same. Only when you saw the tattoo on their arm made your chest ache and for your heart to race like you were running a hundred miles per second. You wanted to speak but it felt like that there's a lump in your throat that's preventing you. You thought you were finally okay after years of therapy but all the emotions came rushing back, hitting you like a tidal wave when you realized who the person is that's helping you pick up papers. It was Bada.

———;

@lil-elliesgf @efyyylee @hwm1hyun @mikaleialt @bunnywonyo @badaswifey @mrs-grim-reaper @b1ackbunny @wifey-badalee

[saitama-division]

ATTENTION!

Hello everyone, I have some rather unfortunate news regarding the server, don't worry I'm not deleting it but I am going get rid of the invite link on the masterlist (not that it matters since it's most likely expired by now).

I'm sure you all have questions as to why and the reason is that we've recently had a troubling encounter with a minor (who you all may know as Kumamoto Division) that was lying about their age and was in our 18+ section. I will take partial responsibility since I did not put up the proper precautions nor did I push for them to reveal their age (which they most likely would've lied about again).

Again, I would like to take responsibility for my part of the incident as server owner and apologize, I intend to correct this mistake by officially declaring the Hypnosis Microphone OC Community Discord Server as an 18 AND OVER SERVER WHICH MEANS THAT MINORS SHOULD NOT JOIN UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, THIS IS AN ADULT SERVER FILLED WITH ADULTS. MINORS AND PEOPLE UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE ARE NOT ALLOWED AND WILL BE REPORTED AND BANNED WITH NO QUESTION SHOULD THEY GET CAUGHT LYING ABOUT THEIR AGE. (Looking at you Kumamoto).

Another thing I would like to note, since I am removing the invite link from my masterlist, that does not mean that those interested (and are over 18) cannot join the server. All you have to do is DM me saying that you want to join, the only REQUIREMENT we have is that YOU ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18 PLEASE.

I believe that's all I want to say, while I am disappointed that a situation like this has happened in our beloved community, I am glad to have been acknowledged so that I can make sure nothing like this can happen in the future.

Thank you for understanding.

- Renata (Sai)

[kkatastrophic]

Danganronpa Manga Rant- Leon and Sayaka:

@yukiteruakari told me about a Danganronpa Manga edition, and OH MY GOD!!! Thankyou so much for this bro omg.

I'm only up to "Junkos" impaling, but it's so much better than the one I have.

I'll put some screenshots below, and the link too because so far it's translated to English.

Why the Manga is better, what it could do for the fandom:

It gives Sayaka and Leon so much more development as characters and seeing as Mondos case is next we might get to see what they talked about in the sauna. (<- there are so many fan theories for that one, and I'm excited to finally get more lore.)

It's hard to be a Danganronpa fan in 2024 because it all happened 14, 12, and 7 years ago. So like... Spike aren't going to just start explaining more lore on twitter randomly because they feel like it, Danganronpa is done, but this manga helps us understand the killers motive.

If ALL of the fandom read it I'd probably assume the "Mondo Brother Killer >:(" cliche that some of the fandom define him as would be gone, because it has his POV instead of a Monokuma flashback and a shitty animated clip of him doing it "for no reason" other than being "strong-strong-strong-strong-strong" (from the canon game and animation 2014.)

LeoXSaya Rant, Manga>>>Animation:

And yes, Sayaka was revealed to be a bit more of a "snake" (she isn't btw) but her motives were humane and we only thought she wasn't because Makoto is the protagonist and wouldn't think bad about any of his friends.

It also gives Leon haters a reason to stfu and enjoy his character design and small role while it lasts, and it's better than playing his FTEs because he's just gloating about picking up chicks and being better than everybody at Baseball despite hating in from what I've seen.

Also, the art is just BETTER.

The dialogue is just BETTER!

They gave Sayaka a reason to invite Leon over. Because in the anime and game yes it's "wow Sayaka is so hot" on Leons part, but wouldn't that mean Leon would've been the person to invite her to HIS room instead?

But in the Manga they explain her thought process, anybody who hasn't read it will probably just go "Sayaka's dumb for inviting a STAR ATHLETE to try and kill!" but she's smart because if she had killed him she already had an alibi. "We were friends! We bonded over music and drank tea together!" or something... saying that, Sayaka couldn't WIN because Makoto knew about the room swapping ofc. And she'd leave evidence and whatnot.

*Sighs* The Animation Butchered Our Boys...:

(BOYS BECAUSE THE ANIMATION BUTCHERED SO MANY CHARACTERS AND GAVE THEM PISSY MOTIVES AND SHIT-)

I hate the anime alot, but the thing that PISSED ME OFF THE MOST (about 1-1 of the animation) WAS LEON'S REACTION. He was having a mental breakdown, which was fine and accurate... probably good as well instead of him screaming "stupid" then losing it halfway through the word and realising his fate quietly.

They give him a moment of remorse.

"I didn't want to... I mean she... she was tring to... kill me... right? I just... didn't know what else to do... okay...?" (quote end)

but then he gets mad.

I don't know about you, but on first watch this ruined it for me. "He's just screaming now..." like... it makes me mad for almost no reason.

He was about to have a very humane moment of "I didn't have a choice..." he's looking down at the pedestal thingy in the court, he's defeated, he's sad, he's been caught. He's in despair.

Then he yells at the others "you would've done the same thing in my shoes!"

And you know what the writers did instead of making him cry after that? Anything... would've been better, but this is the dam animation we're talking about...

"I DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE OKAY! THE CRAZY SKANK WAS GOING TO KILL ME, WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!"

He did have a choice...

The manga gave him a choice, he tried to save Sayaka. Then he ended up killing her, ON ACCIDENT. That line alone contradicts the fact of any of that happening, he and Sayaka had just bonded hours earlier.

Like, this is my opinion and I've never heard anybody talk about this before, BUT THE WRITERS NEEDED TO WRITE LEON BETTER!!! The game wrote Leon fine, but the animation was a second chance at giving him development!

I liked him trying to escape the court room though. That was a nice touch that I don't think was in the game.

BUT BROOOOO HE CALLED SAYAKA A SKANK HOURS AFTER ADMITTING HE WAS CRUSHING ON HER, DANGANRONPA ANIMATION WHERE'S THE LOGIC!

Like, the scene made me so mad on re-watch and I can't pinpoint why!

Like instead of this: https://youtu.be/CbQ6McYz7U0?t=59

(Good animation though imo, the closeup expressed his emotions nicely-)

HAVE THIS THOUGH, THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER!

IT JUST HITS WAY BETTER-

Anyway, that's my rant of the day because why not.

The game itself had issues, but compared to the animation it was just so much better, and makes me want to give it a 7/10 instead of a 6...

[vilevenom]

Part five of the ficlet collection for "Hello My Old Heart"!~

Wedding vows are hard to write. I'm just gonna say that much. I also won't lie - I struggled a bit with this one, for some reason. Hope y'all enjoy it, anyway! Previous parts: Let's Be Us Again | Suddenly, Everything Has Changed | Sleeping In | Early Birdie | Smother Me | Marry You

((Hopefully the links work. I will be forever sad if they don't))

Wedding planning should not be difficult. Mind, wedding planning was not John Dory's forte. He and Hickory had discussed a couple of ideas; primarily wanting a smaller guest list and how they would write their own vows, but that was about it. He truly had no idea how to go about inviting the guests, book a venue, arrange food…none of it. But then Poppy had caught wind of how abysmally his planning had been going, and it had been taken right out of his hands completely. He was infinitely grateful to her, really. However, Poppy's idea of what his wedding should be like and his own were quite different.

"Honestly, Popstar, it's fine. Hickory and I are good even just standing in the middle of a field and saying our vows, if it comes down to it. We don't need all this fan fare," John said quickly, watching as Poppy flipped through several wedding scrapbooks, going back and forth between them all while making notes. She looked up at him with a little frown.

"No way. You're Branch's oldest brother, and you were a member of BroZone! This is going to be big, and amazing! Trust me," Poppy said, waving a dismissive hand through the air.

John frowned and glanced at Branch, who was busy fiddling with some new invention of his off to the side. "Branch! Tell her to stop."

Branch spared John a short glance, only to roll his eyes and go back to his tools. "You're a big troll now, John Dory. Use your words."

John huffed out a breath, turning back to Poppy. She had color swatches out now and was holding them up near John's face to compare to his fur color. He grimaced, gently pushing her hands away. "Look, Poppy," he sighed, trying to put as much sincerity into his tone as he could muster, "I appreciate what you want to do. Really, I do. But Hickory and I just don't want a huge event made of this. Neither of us really like a big crowd, and we don't want some massive ragger of a party. And, before you say it, I know how that sounds coming from me. Please. If you want to plan our wedding, I won't stop you, because I really appreciate you taking all of this over for me. But can we keep it small?"

Poppy made a couple of abortive motions with the swatches in her hands, before finally deflating and nodding slightly. "Okay, fine. Family and close friends, only. But I will be making the flower arrangements as big as I want!"

"Deal," John snorted, holding out his hand, Poppy grinning widely as she shook it.

~

John had been ready to say his vows to Hickory withing a week of Hickory's awkward half-proposal. However, Poppy apparently needed at least three months to make the arrangements for everything she had planned. She told him, at one point, that what she had originally wanted to do would've taken six months, but after John's haggling she knocked her plans down to something she could put together in three. Plus, she had pointed out, John and Hickory's guests would need time to make appropriate travel plans and arrangements.

Needless to say, John was getting restless waiting. Two months into it, and even Sky was getting agitated.

"Why can't you do it now?" the trolling whined, flopping himself dramatically onto the ground. He kicked his little feet into the floor, his face smushed into the carpet, "Waiting feels like forever."

John snorted, elbow deep in the sink as he washed dishes, glancing over his shoulder to watch Sky briefly. "Because your aunt Poppy wants everything to be special. Plus, it hasn't been that long since your uncle Bruce visited. He's gotta make sure the restaurant is gonna be okay if he leaves again."

"UGH," Sky whined, rolling over to stare up at the ceiling. "Fine, I guess."

"Such a generous boy," Hickory laughed, taking a dish from John to dry and put away.

"Mmm. What's got your hair in a twist, anyway? It's not like anything will change around here after the wedding," John hummed, pulling the plug in the sink as he finished the last dish.

"No, I know," Sky sighed, tilting his head so he could watch his parents in the kitchen, "But, some of the kids at school were talking about aunt Poppy and uncle Branch's wedding, and some of them said only trolls in true love get married. And I know you and Papa are in true love, but a girl at school told me you couldn't be, 'cause you weren't married."

John snorted in mild offense, while Hickory simply frowned as he put the last of the dishes away.

"You tell that girl at school that anyone can be in true love, marriage or not," Hickory said as he turned to his son, hands on his hips, earning a surprised look from John, who'd had a snarky remark at the tip of his tongue. "As a matter of fact, sometimes true love just smacks ya right in the face, an' ya don't even realize it. Other times, it's real slow and creeps up on ya while yer not lookin'. True love can happen anytime, an' anywhere. You don't need no fancy ceremony an' a ring to show you've got true love."

Sky had sat up on the floor to pay better attention to his father while he spoke, little sparkles in his eyes at the impassioned speech. "Which one happened with you and Dad?"

"Well," Hickory chuckled, "The smack in the face sure happened to me." He glanced at John with a fond look on his face, "An' I'm pretty sure the slow creep happened to yer Dad."

"You big sap," John snorted, though he had to hide his face behind a hand to try and block the view of the dark flush that had spread across his cheeks.

~

"John?"

"Muh?!" John jerked awake, blinking muzzily into the darkness as he sat up, looking around in a daze.

"Sorry, schatz," Hickory murmured, rubbing at John's shoulder to calm him down. John let out a little sigh, settling back down into the pillows.

"What's up?" John murmured, squinting through the dark at Hickory.

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

"…And it couldn't wait until morning?"

Hickory let out a breathy little laugh, petting at John's jaw gently. "I don't think so."

John waited for Hickory to speak, his brain slowly trying to pull him back down into sleep, before he forced himself into wakefulness again. "Well?" he grunted, rubbing at his face.

"Sorry. It's just…hard. It's hard to say," Hickory muttered. Another moment passed before Hickory sighed, shifting against the bed to lay flat on his back, his gaze focused on the ceiling. "I would like to extend an invitation to the wedding to Dickory."

John immediately sat up again, his mind now wide awake. "You what?"

Hickory sat up as well, holding his hands up in a placating gesture, although John could barely tell he was doing so. "I know! I know how that sounds, but…He's my brother."

"Yeah! Your brother who tried to-what was it he said? Oh, right. MAIM me? Because apparently, he wasn't actively trying to kill me. Just came real close," John seethed, trying to keep his voice quiet. "He called me a whore on multiple occasions!"

Hickory seemingly floundered for words for a few minutes as they sat in the dark in silence, while Hickory audibly fiddled with the blankets in his lap. "I'm sorry. I know he was terrible. To both of us, but especially you. But…he is the only family I have left, liebling. I want him to at least know that I'm happy. That we're happy, despite everything…This is why I wanted to talk to you now. I didn't want to argue in front of Sky."

"Oh, yes. Because waking me up in the middle of the night is going to lead to a really productive conversation," John groused, flopping back down into the pillows. He could hear Hickory continue to fiddle with the blankets for a long moment, before laying down next to him again. He groaned while throwing an arm over his eyes, already feeling the guilt welling up in his chest at Hickory's silence. "Okay, fine! You can send him an invitation. But you're going to need to talk to Poppy, since y'know…he got banished and all that."

John grunted as Hickory practically rolled on top of him and pulled his arm away from his face. "Thank you, schatz! If Poppy agrees, and he shows up, I will make sure to keep him on tight reins," Hickory hummed, pressing a smile into John's cheek.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm pretty great," John grumbled, wrapping his arms around Hickory. "Now, let me go back to sleep before our kid comes banging at our door to get up."

~

Finally, after months of waiting, the day of the wedding arrived.

John was nervous, to say the least. He and Hickory had agreed to Poppy's weird rule that the couple needed to spend the night before the wedding apart. It had been the first night in four years that John hadn't slept next to Hickory, and that alone had been enough to set him on edge for the day. And now, only a few scant hours before the wedding, he was stood in the little tent Poppy had had set up as a makeshift dressing room, in front of a mirror, staring at himself forlornly. His outfit was impeccable; a dark purple suit that Branch had, surprisingly, picked out with black and gold accents, and a black headband to replace his goggles. Certainly not his usual color scheme or style, but definitely complimentary to his natural colors. He knew he looked good (Poppy wouldn't let him walk out in something tacky. He hoped, anyway), but that didn't stop the thrill of nerves making him sweat.

"You look like you swallowed a lemon."

Bruce's voice startled John out of his silent revere, causing the teal troll to finally turn away from the mirror.

"And what if I did?" John tried to joke, but it fell flat as Bruce walked into the tent proper, a concerned little frown on his face. He shifted under his younger brothers scrutiny, before finally letting out a puff of air, while wiping his palms on the bottom of his suit jacket. "I'm just nervous."

"Whatever for?" Bruce chuckled, moving forward to fix the lapels of John's suit jacket.

"I genuinely have no idea," John laughed, already beginning to feel ridiculous as he thought about the conversation he'd had with Bruce previously, back when Sky's egg had first appeared in his hair. "I know he loves me, no matter what."

"And he's definitely in it for the long haul," Bruce agreed, stepping back from John with an easy smile. "You've got nothing to worry about. Today is really more of a formality, then anything else."

"I bet you were still nervous when you and Brandy got married, even if you knew she was in it for the long haul," John pointed out with a cheeky grin, laughing as Bruce flushed.

"Oh, I was a wreck," Bruce admitted with a little shrug and a nod, "I'm surprised I didn't trip over my own feet while walking up the aisle." He paused for a moment, fiddling with the bright orange rose bud on his lapel. "This probably isn't the best time to say this, but I wish you'd been there."

John chewed on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from starting to cry already, and gave a little nod. "I do, too."

Bruce nodded, clearing his throat as he not so subtly wiped at his eyes. "Right, well! Break a leg out there, Johnny," the purple troll declared, spinning on his heel to walk out of the tent.

"Bruce, wait!"

Bruce paused, turning to offer his brother a questioning glance.

"I know this is probably gonna sound weird, and Poppy might lose her marbles, because we didn't rehearse it, but, uhm," John cleared his throat, tugging at the hem of his jacket to straighten it, "Will you…walk me down the aisle?"

That was enough to get Bruce to burst into tears, his hands quickly shooting up to cover his face. "Oh my god, John!" he sniffed, shaking his head, "Right before the wedding?! I'm gonna be all blotchy."

"Oh, uh, sorry!" John scooped a tissue box up from his little vanity, offering it to Bruce, "Is that a 'no', then?"

"Is that a 'no'," Bruce mocked, snatching up tissues, "Of course it's a YES, you idiot. Glitter and cupcakes, you have the worst timing known to troll kind,"

"Ha, yeah…"

~

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be, I guess."

The music queue began to play, notifying John that he should be walking down the aisle now. The teal troll turned to his brother, his smile crooked as they linked arms.

"It'll be great."

"I know."

~

"As I've been informed, the couple has written vows for each other. You may now recite them. Hickory, you may go first."

Hickory grinned brightly at John as the two stood at the alter, barely a foot apart but both feeling like they were still an ocean away, unable to reach out and touch. Sky was stood between them, just in front of the officiator, a little pillow that had previously held the rings they'd exchanged clutched in his hands as he watched his parents with stars in his eyes.

The country troll dug into the pocket of the black and gold floral pattern suit he wore, pulling a well worn, dog eared piece of paper out. He cleared his throat as he unfolded it carefully, glancing up at John with a smitten little smile, before he began to read.

"John Dory…I will never forget the day I first laid eyes on ya. Time felt like it stopped, an' my world suddenly felt like it could be so much bigger. Ya made me realize that I could be more than what other folks told me I should be, or what I should want. You gave me hope, an' I thought that was the most precious gift any troll had ever given me. But then ya gave me yer love, an' I realized that nothin' in this world or the next would ever compare. An' then you gave me a child…an' I don't think anythin' I can say or do will ever truly express just how grateful I am to receive all of the gifts you have given me, an' to have you in my life. I love you, with all a' my heart. An' I promise to keep tryin', every day of my life, to show ya just how much ya truly mean to me."

Hickory lifted his gaze from his speech, tears in his eyes, only to let out a wet laugh at the tears already streaking down John's cheeks.

"Oh, you're good," John whispered, sniffing loudly and wiping quickly at his eyes as Hickory chuckled. "I don't have proper vows written," he admitted, reaching out to take one of Hickory's hands, once the country troll had tucked his little piece of paper back into his pocket, "But, I thought I'd do something a little unconventional. Since we've always been a bit unconventional." He turned his head to nod at Branch, who quickly pulled a microphone out of his hair to hand over to John. "Hopefully my voice isn't too mucked up from crying," he added with a chuckle into the microphone, earning a smattering of laughter from the guests.

"There goes my heat beatin', cause you are the reason…" ((click here to listen to John's song))

Cheers broke out from the guests as John finished his song, a little grin on his face as Hickory openly wept in front of him. "Haha, I win," he said quickly into the microphone, before handing it back to Branch, earning a light punch in the arm from his youngest brother.

"And with that, I now pronounce you husband and husband," the officiator announced, with another round of cheering from the crowd as Hickory yanked John into a kiss.

[nym-wibbly]

Fic: My Bonds in Thee by Nym - Good Omens (TV)

Aziraphale comes back. Their love was never in doubt but they still have different exactlys.

Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley Wordcount: 42,600 of (probably 80,000 - WIP) Rating: Explicit AO3 Archive Warning: No archive warnings apply Tags: Second Kiss, First Time, Flashbacks, Angst, Hurt/Comfort Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49148341/

If you need an AO3 invite code to view fanworks set as 'visible to logged-in users only', just contact me at the e-mail address on my AO3 profile.

Excerpt from My Bonds in Thee chapter 8:

The world ended here just a few days ago. His world. He's not sure he feels good about returning, but Gabriel got one thing right (one damned thing in his damned smug damned charmed damned bloody Supreme existence). Home is wherever the heart is. And Crowley's already given his to Aziraphale. That's like Armageddon: You don't get a do-over when it goes pear-shaped. Push on, then.

Crowley scratches his head through the cloth of the hood, relieved to feel that he still has hair.

"How, um, deviant are we thinking? I mean," he gestures to the spiral staircase, upstairs, shocked to feel his cheeks and ears getting hot. "Physically?"

Aziraphale freezes while putting the front door keys into the top drawer of the desk. He clears his throat lightly and composes his features into his usual expression of placid warmth.

"If you can't choose your form, my dear," he says, with a facade of ease that Crowley really admires under the circumstances, "I'd say, 'very'. Not that one knows much about these matters, being an angel." He closes the drawer, slowly, and turns around. "Were you, um, hoping to find out now?"

Crowley pictures Aziraphale in Eden, hastily turning his back on Adam and Eve with a shocked little huff when they figured out what all the naked bits were for.

He still wonders what would've happened if he hadn't tempted Eve to try the bloody fruit. Suppose he'd seduced an angel instead—whispered visceral temptation in that innocent ear and stroked that sweet, soft, angelic hair until Aziraphale shivered and dropped his flaming sword?

That would've looked great in Genesis.

"One doesn't bloody know," he says, throwing himself lengthways onto the couch in a dramatic sprawl. "And one would like a bloody big drink now."

Aziraphale brings him a small drink, a careful measure of Scotch, but he has the decency to bring the bottle too.

For a moment, the angel hesitates about where to sit. Crowley sees the moment when Aziraphale remembers the park, the water's edge, and their kiss. It softens his whole face with wonder and quiet joy. This in turn makes Crowley stop breathing. He pats the edge of the couch beside his hip, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Aziraphale sits there, flustered, and hands him the glass.

"Can we really do this?"

"It's too late to ask that now." Crowley's not sure of much right now, but he's clear on that. They can only move forward.

"No. I mean, the other thing. 'Pillar of salt time'."

"Oh." Crowley empties the whisky down his throat in one gulp. "I've no idea. Can we? It's not actually written down anywhere, is it? 'Thou shalt not have carnal knowledge of an angel stroke demon'?"

"Carnal knowledge," Aziraphale echoes fretfully. "Sounds very bad when you put it like that."

"You'd blush if I put it any other way."

"I'm already blushing. They call it 'making love'. The humans, I mean. That's nice. I like that one."

"I think we..." Frowning, Crowley tries to think it over. He's not supposed to be out of his mind with temptation. It's been his job to do that to other people. But the possibility of the two of them, more together than they're already together... "We can be anything we want. Any shape, I mean. So I guess we can find one that, you know." He gestures vaguely with his glass, unwilling to sully the idea with what Aziraphale would call 'vulgar language', "Works," he finishes, awkwardly.

"Do snakes, um..."

"Don't go there."

"I'm a bit worried that we could accidentally destroy each other," Aziraphale admits. "With carnal knowledge."

"According to most humans, it's one hell of a way to go."

"Oh." Aziraphale bites his bottom lip. Crowley holds up his empty glass with a meaningful nod. Aziraphale ignores it, instead putting the whisky bottle down on the floor. "It's worrying me," he confesses, almost whispering. "I know nothing worries you, but—"

"You think that?"

"What?"

"That nothing worries me?"

"Well..."

"I'm terrified." Crowley slaps a hand to his chest as evidence of his thundering heart. "I'm absolutely scared out of my mind. Hence the empty glass," he adds, meaningfully. "I don't have the answers, Angel. I'm not sure I even know the questions."

Aziraphale takes the glass out of his hand and puts it down next to the bottle with a tidy little 'chink'. Crowley watches it go with a tiny pang of grief, the hint of a pout.

"I had no idea. I'm sorry." He lays his hand on top of Crowley's with slow care. "I assumed again. That you'd— Being a demon, with all the temptations and everything..." It tails off as the merest hint of a question.

Crowley wrinkles his nose.

"Humans?"

"Yes."

"Ugh. No. It was my job to get them doing it to each other without, you know. The love bit. Selfishly. Destructively. Unadulterated lust. Except when it's adultery, I suppose. Does that adulterate it? Does it get cancelled out if it's adultery but they love each other? Or if they love each other but do it selfishly? There's a few decades of temptation time I'll never get back."

Crowley realises he's babbling and stops.

"I see." Aziraphale's fingers curl around Crowley's unresisting hand, fingertips brushing his chest. Even through two layers of clothing, the sensation makes Crowley's toes curl. "And how exactly does one tempt a human to succumb to the flesh?"

"Uh..." Crowley blows out his cheeks. It's been a while. His temptations, halfhearted anyway, have been on a larger scale since the Industrial Revolution. Whole populations, technology, not furtive couples. "Well, you know. Rainstorms, shelter together under an awning, Jane Austen's balls. That sort of thing. They look uncertainly into each other's eyes, go in for the big, climactic kiss and... and Bob's your uncle. Carnal knowledge all over the sho—place." He fidgets uncomfortably, suddenly regretting the way he draped a nonchalant leg over the far arm of the couch. He's exposed everything, and Aziraphale is looking uncertainly into his eyes. His sunglasses, anyway. "It's programmed in for them. Some of them. A lot of them."

"Crowley," Aziraphale says, making a devastatingly unsuccessful attempt to look naughty. "Take off your glasses. I can't kiss you if you're not looking at me."

Never, never, in the thousands of years since he invented the bloody things, has it taken Crowley so many agonising eternities to snatch the stupid bits of glass and wire from his nose.

Aziraphale plants a hand on either side of Crowley's shoulders and bends swiftly, pecking him on the lips and—Crowley gulps—chuckling in the back of his throat. It's a deep sound. It's the sexy, evil twin of Aziraphale's guilty, nervous titter.

"Oh, God," Crowley mumbles, kissing upwards, like it's programmed in. "If this doesn't work—" kiss, "—we'll be cringin—" kiss, "—cringing about it 'til mumnff—" kiss, open mouths, a shared gasp, "'til the heat death of the universe."

[continue reading on AO3]

[b4ts1e]

▀▄▀▄▀▄The Eleventh Birthday▄▀▄▀▄▀ (𝚐𝚗!𝙼𝙲)

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍: 𝚀𝚒𝚞/𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚗 𝙻𝚒𝚗 𝚃𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙱𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚗 𝙾𝚖𝚒 & 𝙾𝚙𝚊 𝙾𝚙𝚊𝚕/𝙼𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝙲 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 (𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙾𝙻:𝙽&𝙵)

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝: It's the first birthday MC has in Golden Grove, their new home town. Their newness keeps them from making too many friends in their new school, but despite that they still invite their entire class for their birthday party at their house. However when only two people attend, they can't help but be just slightly disappointed. (part 1) Link

(𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗)

MC was never an extremely social child, it was noticeable since they were very young they never really attempted to take the first steps into making friends. So when they moved here, to Golden Grove, and made two friends on their first day- it was a shock to both them and their mother Opal. It lit a hope in her heart that maybe her kid finally started to take initiative to make friends, even though meeting and befriending Qiu and Tamarack was mearly a coincidence.

So when their eleventh birthday rolled around, Opal was practically insistant that they invited their entire class- excitedly she took it apon herself to buy and make enough food, drink, and snacks for every kid invited. Only to be disappointed when an hour into the expected party starting time- not a single person showed up. Seeing their mother disappointed, made MC get really upset with themself- after all the preparations their momma put into the party, not a single person showed up.

Closing themself away in their room- they didn't hear when a soft knocking erupted from the front door.

(𝙼𝙲'𝚜 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎)

My mind was flooding with thoughts, none very positive. This wasn't the first time something like this happened, but I still couldn't help but feel terrible for all the hard work momma put into everything for this- only for it to go the exact same way it always does. Nobody showing up. Qiu was likely at dance practice and was Tamarack probably with her Omi and Opa. At least they had informed me they'd be late, but nobody showed up- not a single person, not even them.

I got shaken from my thoughts as a soft knock came from my door, "Come in." I said softly, not turning to the door- expecting momma to be coming in to act like she wasn't disappointed, but it's too late for that. I already saw it in her eyes, the hope dwindling away slowly throughout that uneventful hour. "MC? Hey, your mom told me what happened..." an unexpected, but soft voice said after the door creaked open then closed. I turned towards them- seeing Qiu walking towards me slowly, a sympathic look on his face. "Autumn? I thought you said you'd be too busy with dance to come..." I ask as he sat next to me on my bed.

"Nope. I told you I'd be late, not that I'd be too busy. You're my friend MC, and if I had any choice on skipping practice today I would've." he explained, opening his arms to me- which I leaned into his embrace. "For someone who's now older than me, you seem really upset. Wanna talk about it?" he offered gently, giving me a soft playful smirk- making me chuckle a bit. "Qiu- it's only a month or few til your birthday, I'm not that much older..." I said with a small smile, pulling away from the hug slowly. "I'm not even upset nobody showed up to be honest...I'm just...sorry for my momma for getting so much set up for nothing." I explained with a low effort shrug.

"I understand that, but I gaurentee she'd probably be more happy to see it getting used- so what do you say to going downstairs to appreciate her hardwork, yeah?" he said with a closed eyed smile, that I can't help but return with a nod. "Then let's go, turn on some music and celebrate! You only turn eleven once!" He said, pulling me up off my bed and dragging me out of the room making me laugh softly.

When we got downstairs, momma quickly wrapped me in a warm hug. "Happy Birthday sweetie, I'm sorry about nobody showing up- but I can assure you that I just got a call from Tamarack's grandmother saying they were on the way now!" she said with a grin, rubbing my arms gently after she pulled away. "For now- shall we get this party started?" she asked with a playful look on her face, to which I grinned at and nodded. "Yes! I don't want your hardwork to go to waste momma, I really appreciate everything you've done for today. I'm sorry nobody came..." I apologized softly, resulting in her pulling me close again. "Sweetie...I did all of this to make today special for you, sure I thought more kids would show up- but I'm not going to let your birthday slip away from us." she said reasurringly as I hugged her tightly.

Eventually we broke the hug and she went over to the TV, pulling up a playlist of our favorite songs and pressing shuffle play- adjusting the volume to be louder than usual but not too loud. Quickly Qiu grabs my wrists, dancing around with a grin- making me laugh loudly as we danced erratically with the music. It wasn't anything professional, like how Qiu was trained to, but it was fun none the less.

After about fifteen minutes of us dancing, chasing each other around and laughing a knock was heard at the front door. "I've got it, you two keep having fun!" Momma said with a smile, going to get the door as I chased Qiu around the living room. "You stole my snack! Get over here Autumn!" I said playfully, jumping around the edge of the couch and reaching for his arm as I laughed. I could hear momma chuckle before the door opened and an excited voice broke my attention from chasing the snack thief.

"Tama!" I shouted excitedly, rushing to the door to see Tamarack outside with a large gift bag- she grinned before putting down the bag and hugging me tightly. "Happy Birthday MC!" she shouted as my momma grabbed the bag and brought it somewhere else for later. Once inside I close the door and she notices Qiu taking deep breaths on the couch- dramaticitzing his out of breathness. "Hey forest queen, glad you could make it." he said with a grin, approaching us once he 'caught his breath'.

"Hi Qiu!" she said simply before looking around, admiring the decorations. "I like the decorations!" she said innocently with a grin. "Thanks! My momma worked really hard to do all of this for today! I helped where she'd let me- but she did a lot of it!" I say, standing diagonally from both of my neighbors in friends- content with their presences. "Well it looks amazing!" Qiu pitched in with a smile. "So- what do you guys wanna do? I'm a bit tired of dancing- but we have games and other things we can do!" I say with a grin, apprecative of the friends I do have- they're great.

(𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗)

As the three had their fun- playing party games, dancing, snacking, and enjoying each other's presence- the day slowly turned to evening, which then turned to night. It may not have a birthday party that was expected, but it was definetely the one that MC needed. However, as the two guests went home- one of them had a devious little idea. One that he put into action as soon as he saw his parents in the house...

𝚃𝚘 𝙱𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍...

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1,197

Author's Note: I'm going to be completely transparent here- this was really self indulgent. I know what it's like to not have a birthday be celebrated and what it's like for nobody to show up for the party, I hope nobody else goes through that.

[skele-bunny]

Can we get Sunny and Rory having a girl's day?

Self-Care. (No CW) Sunshine/Aurora

CW - NONE

Tags: Fluff, pampering, transfem Sunshine

Characters: Sunshine, Aurora

(Divider by @ wrathofrats !)

"Do you think it's okay to wear this, or am I gonna make the spa workers uncomfortable?"

"Oh, wear whatever you want! I got nervous, too, because of my whole downstairs thing and siblings being weird, but honestly? Water is water. I personally go nude."

Aurora hummed, looking at herself in the mirror, turning to see her pert ass on display in her bathing suit. Her tail swayed happily, and an equal smile went on her face. Sunshine had invited her out for a small date together, moreso just to take care of themselves. The older Ghoulette had reserved the Abbey's spa for 5 p.m. Their nails, hair, skin treatment all would be done along with a massage and time in the heated spring water.

Honestly? It was perfect. They've been needing a date, anyways.

The multi reached down and began to put on her casual clothes, bikini strings peeking ever so slightly at the top. Sunshine had just finished tying the lace of her skirt up before offering her hand, the two quickly linking together.

"Are you excited?" Sunny purred, holding the door open for her shorter mate.

"Oh, fuck yeah!" They shared laughter. "This is actually my first time getting to go! They're always so busy and booked, I kinda stopped attempting an appointment a few months ago."

"Oh, really? I'm actually a regular there at this point." Sunshine hummed, "Then I'm glad we can do this together."

The walk to the spa was a bit of a long one, having to wear their helmets as they crossed the threshold to the human section. They received waves and hellos as they passed, Aurora swaying their hands back and forth. It was a separate building, further away from the abbey as it settled right on top of the hot springs — obvious from the smoke chimney ever so slowly releasing steam.

Entering, the smell of an ocean breeze took over. Of course, it'd make sense for a majority of water ghouls to work here. Sunshine approached the front desk, checking them in and happily chatting to the Sister at reception. Aurora made herself comfortable on the soft couch, looking at all the decor in dim lights. This... Honestly was relaxing already and they haven't even started. It took a little bit longer before the door opened, Aurora filled with pure excitement as she got up and took the light ghoulette's hand again, being led through the hallway and into a giant space that connected.

The hot springs sat in the middle, massage chairs for pedicures and manicures along the wall, then two seperate stations for hair and makeup if requested. There was a few changing curtains propped up, and two doors that read "Mud Salon" and "Sauna."

"Ohh, damnit! If I knew I was bringing you, would've just upgraded us both to the full package instead of just matching you with me." Sun pouted. "I'm sorry Rory."

"No, no! It's okay! Honestly, I'm so excited to be here."

Sunshine smiled wider, leaning over and kissing her mate who giggled. They were handed bath robes temporarily, moving to the changing area to strip their casual clothes. Rory opted to keeping her bathing suit on despite Sunshine confirming they could be nude earlier, her comfort taking priority. As she exited, Sunny was waiting for her as were two water ghouls with two siblings.

"Hello!" The first water spoke. "We're going to start with your claws and face mask, does that sound alright?"

"Ohh, absolutely!" Aurora chirped, practically bouncing.

Led to the chairs, Aurora couldn't help but jump as the chair began to vibrate and knead into her back, purring once she got used to it — sending a quick glare to Sunshine as she snorted at the reaction. There was some kind of water drum being played over the speakers, Rory too occupied to not eat the tray of cucumbers next to her as the male water ghoul began to carefully place a face mask on her warm cheeks. The food she was eyeing was placed over her eyes, trying to relax and let herself be touched gently.

She could feel her left arm being rubbed, thumbs pressed into her flesh while her right leg was getting the same treatment. Each worker made their way down, massaging her hand, fingers, and toes before clipping down her nails. Honestly, Rory could've fallen asleep as they began to file down her claws. Both her hands and feet were soaked into warm water, and she's positive that's when she did fall asleep.

"Aurora," Sunny sang, causing the smaller ghoulette to hum and open her eyes. "Hi, sweetie! You okay?"

"Yeah, just got super comfortable."

"Good! They didn't want to wake you up, but I know you really wanted to experience this. Ended up picking out your nail color! Do you like it?"

The multi looked down, gasping as the gentle pink she adored on her claws. "Oh, I love it!"

"I knew you would!" Sunshine showed off her bright orange nails. "It's massage time, princess."

"Ohh, yes your majesty!"

The two began giggling, being led to a seperate room. They were settled right against each other as each knot, kink, and tight muscle was relieved. What Aurora didn't expect however, was her tail being included. She squealed as her tail base was rubbed, face turning dark.

"Holy shit, you gotta warn me before you do that." She laughed, the masseuse laughing with their own apology.

While still on the table, oils and treatment were placed on their skin, getting to smell each offered item and picking what they liked the most. By time they were done, both women were practically shining. They started talking back and forth in the salon chairs, getting trimmed and washed.

"—And then guess what I fucking seen? Rain! Leaving Mist's room!"

Aurora gasped. "Shut up! No you didn't! You are absolutely lying to me right now!"

"I'm so serious! And better yet? He was limping!!"

"Mist fucked him?!"

Sunshine nodded erratically, the two busting into laughter again. "Oh fuck this reminds me of the time I seen Cumulus peg Papa!"

This time, it was Sunshine's turn to scream.

After feeling absolutely perfected, ending their time in the hot springs was exactly what they needed. Aurora held Sunshine tightly as they cuddled together in the bubbling water. Purrs and silent kisses exchanged, little touches with promise of when they returned to the den.

"Thank you, for today." Rory mumbled.

"Of course, babe! I'm sorry we don't spend enough time together."

She simply shrugged. "Eh, we just stay so busy all the time! It's not your fault. I love cherishing what we do when we can."

The light ghoulette smiled, her teeth showing in that classic, perfect fashion. They leaned in, hands cupping one another's face as their lips intertwined. Aurora sat up more to take the lead, hand going down Sunshine's cheek to press against her collar bone. Pulling away after a moment, both of their eyes were half lidded, faces pink.

"Hey, Rory?" Sunshine hummed, wrapping her arms tight around her mate's hips.

"Yess?"

"Would you love me no matter what?"

"Of course!" Aurora tilted her head. "What kind of question is that?"

Sunshine giggled, mischief in her eyes. "This kind!"

Aurora didn't even get a second as Sunshine dunked them both underwater, resurfacing with loud laughs, Aurora splashing water on the other which quickly started a water war.

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

NCT Spooky Season [Day 2]

Tombcraft

TW: Undead(?), Slight Body Horror Genre: Romance Pairing: Park Jisung x Reader YN Pronouns: Not specified Word Count: 1.0K Prompt: "Can I put my tomb next to yours?"

[NCT Masterlist] | [NCT Spooky Season Masterlist] | [Yesterday] | [Tomorrow] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]

Notes: Spooky season is officially here! And since I skipped 20 days of NCT for Christmas last year, what the hell, why not do spooky season instead? Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

It was the hottest game on the market right now, Tombcraft. You play as a living person designing their tomb for once they kick the bucket and head to the afterlife and, for organization nuts like you, it was simply perfect.

Or maybe it just gave a breath of life to those who no longer had it.

"Gosh, I missed having bright eyes like that," you watched your character move about their freshly decorated tomb and, to the corner of your screen, you saw the join request from your boyfriend, Jisung. You rolled back on your chair. "Jisung? I'm literally right behind you, you can just ask," you laughed.

Both you and Jisung actually died quite a while ago, freak accident, go figure, turns out when you get hit by a truck you don't get isekai-ed into a new world, nah, you just die. Luckily, you both were buried together so you ended up popping into the after-life at the same time and now you were existing just as you had lived. Living in a small crypt and in debt, turns out your life's debts are simply transferred to your death. And yours combined with Jisung's was just a trainwreck, if you knew you'd still be working a minimum wage 9-5 in the after-life maybe you would've tried harder to stay in the land of the living.

Jisung, though, seems to have no regrets. If anything he got bolder after being separated from the mortal world, and such was clear when he asked you to live- er- rest in the same crypt and now you've just been chilling playing this video game together. He looks around and smiles.

"Just in case! Sometimes you get so in the zone," he says, adjusting the screws in his head, "well?"

"Yeah, duh," you accepted his invite and Jisung's character appears on screen.

"Whoa, your tomb is so nice," Jisung comments. "Wish our house looked like this," he looks around your shared room and it was, as most crypts are, desolate.

"Would be nice to afford our own tomb," you sighed.

"Hey, wait, actually! Would it be cool if I put my tomb next to yours?" He asks.

"Stop! We could be neighbors!" You grinned. "Do it!" And, in seconds, his character successfully transfers over to your world and he takes the empty lot next to your tomb.

"Oh, darn, I didn't think this through," he says, staring at the literally empty lot, "the burden of creative freedom," he sighs.

"Hey, let's build a tomb together!" You offered, "it'll be fun! The one I'm in was one of the premade ones," you navigated your character to the empty lot, watching your two avatars interacting.

"Yes, that would be great," he says, "I was thinking of doing a classic mausoleum type?"

"Whoa, that's classic, classic," you muttered. "We have the funds, why not go gothic church?"

"Oh, I've always wanted a gargoyle!"

"Me too!" You beamed. "Wait, let me sell my tomb so we have enough."

"Maybe we should hold off on that for a second," Jisung waves his hand, "we still need a place to live for now," he says.

"Ooh, are you asking to move in with me?"

"(Y/N), we've been buried together for, like, ages."

"I know! But I still get giddy talking about it! Makes me feel alive, ya know?"

"I don't, actually."

"Oh, right!" You both laughed.

"I wonder what the others are up to," Jisung hums. "I miss our old friends," you heard the hint of sadness and you snapped your fingers.

"Wait, Jisung! This game has an option where we can play multiplayer with the living world!"

"Are you serious?!"

"Yeah! Let's try getting into contact with one of our old friends," you opened the search tab and Jisung wheeled over to you. "Let's try Mark, he'll lose his head when he sees it's us!" You put his name into the search bar and after a few minutes the user 'Tigrrr' popped up. You opened the chat with him.

YN: Mark, it's (Y/N) and Jisung!

MK: HUH??? No way, whoever you are I'm gonna block u

YN: NO DON'T IT'S REALLY US

MK: Sure!

"Quick! Type something only we would know!" You slid the keyboard to Jisung and he went to work.

YN: Hyung! It's really us! Remember that day before we died we went to the beach together and you got really drunk and told us that you thought that almond milk came from cows who only ate almonds?

MK: omg

MK: send a pic rn or i won't believe u

YN: dammit mark

"Get over here," you pulled Jisung closer to you and took a quick picture and sent it.

YN: (Image)

MK: OH MY GOD IT'S YOU TWO

MK: Ew, you're missing a chunk of flesh on your face, (Y/N)

MK: I GOTTA GET THE GUYS

YN: Okay!

"Wow... that went smoother than I thought," Jisung hums. "I hope they don't mind that we're like... dead."

"Wow! Rude!" You pointed at the comment he made.

"I mean... you are missing a chunk of your face."

"Because you bit it off!"

"I tried to kiss your cheek!"

"And now it's gone," you puffed your cheeks(?) and crossed your arms. Jisung sighs and wraps his bone arms around you.

"And I'm missing my arms."

"Yeah... if only we had enough to replace them," you nuzzled(?) into the bone. "Anyway, looks like we got more people joining our server!"

"Yes! Finally!" Jisung scrambled back to his chair, ready to commune with the living.

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[becausethathappens]

I feel like one of the most underrated protective Rhett moments is how he reacted learning that a fan grabbed Link in that one EB episode. He got so overworked and lost his composure (that usually happens when he's jealous) that he told Link he should kill anyone who tries to touch him (later played it off as a joke) but he was so clearly scarily angry. It came across as (if someone touches you, I'll kill them). This is makes me connect some dots to that other EB when he dreamt about Link being in prison and they made the conclusion the prison was in Scandinavia then out of the blue Rhett said if he were to kill anyone it would be in Scandinavia (which in that context means he would do it to protect Link).

👊 / 🏃

first of all, anon, i'm sorry this took forever for me to respond to. once i saw the second part (credit to @leelaihardly in helping find it), i wanted to write down some of the things that stuck out.

in the initial clip, rhett seems not just frustrated that link was grabbed, but also that he hadn't been told about it in the moment. in his mind their fates are directly linked (lol) and not saying anything puts link's safety in jeopardy which (unspoken) puts rhett's fate in jeopardy by proxy. protect the pack energy, like a body guard warning link off neglecting to speak up in the future. (obviously, rhett would've showed off some of those disarming moves. or at least put his large form between link and someone bothering him, as he's done all their life).

and in the second clip, the protectiveness didn't just extend to the dream murder charge he'd happily take in scandinavia (likely, as you alluded, because someone tried grabbing at link in front of him and he knew about it, this time).

the rest of it... well, it brought some other things to mind. and before all that, shoutout to jessie for trying to cut to the chase and say it was about the literal thought prompt they got during a live show.

a less realistic but still fun ✨dream analysis✨ is under the cut:

if i were rhett's friend and he asked me how would i interpret it, as it was described, i'd point him towards the deconstruction episodes. he even admits his mind had been dwelling on going home since this was recorded days before they literally flew home to shoot the buies creek documentary. as rhett himself points out, it's the same exact setting of the dream since the golf course (although only vaguely described here) was literally the backyard of his childhood home.

so it tracks that going back there, to that home (which his family didn't even own anymore, but still was marked by the vinyl siding and engraved brick that showed they were once there), to the church, to the river, and shining a spotlight on it all meant they had to finally confront it. a little bit during the documentary (they are confirmed verbal processors) when they were explaining some of the reasoning behind why they were doing some weird thing in some weird place in and around the church. it makes sense that thinking about all of that kept it all on his mind as he dreamed and it's no surprise they barely waited a year before recording their deconstruction episodes after these were both filmed. once they reconnected with those places, the need to explain themselves fully probably felt urgent, to show they weren't those people anymore. they've referred to a constantly trickle of questions about those origins that they'd consistently felt disingenuous for not speaking about directly up until that point.

just as stubborn as in the dream when rhett's deconstruction spiraled into what it became, he confirmed leading up to the moment in ear biscuits above, he knew full well that inviting link even just to listen to him talk through his doubts would put link's own beliefs on shakier and shakier ground over time, but he did it anyway. when link doesn't seem taken with the idea of fighting the court case, rhett panics and forces them both to flee.

separately, link, despite not being the one to initiate the pull away and having been resigned to it actually ends up taking to the life in prison and on the run (not having any set structure of 'what' his beliefs are outside of prioritizing love) more smoothly than rhett has. this has been shown to frustrate rhett as they continued down the path they've ended up on, akin to needing to tape down his jumpsuit sleeves before jumping in the getaway car. now, rhett appears to be hovering closer to find a version of link's freedom that works for them both (mostly for safety/risk-related reasons, in times i've seen it brought up). he was on a mission to leave the church (irony) and even though he's written a whole album about how scared he was that his family was going to want to disown him for it... he still continued, undeterred waiting for link to get in the car. because, again, their fates are intertwined. if link doesn't get in the car, rhett might be driving alone, but he's not driving away.

see, to me, rhett thinks of the idea of link being in jail in the same way: as a problem for them both. link in jail means rhett is in constant psychic pain until he's come to his senses about how wrongful the conviction was and joins the cause to overturn it, or they make a break for it. i don't think it's even a stretch to say that he felt the same way about keeping these major religious revelations from him as they were discovered. at the time it was happening, they worked for the church and had abandoned their former careers to do so. it put a lot of pressure on how much they shared even just with their spouses at the beginning.

and considering they later literally ran away together across the country to start over again with their families in california, it's a pretty consistent metaphor. they've said that leaving didn't start the process, but it stopped them from feeling trapped by the culture surrounding them. it was the door into the wilderness where they now live. amongst bears and beautiful people. free to roam, but not because they're in a scandinavian prison for murder. their beliefs died of natural causes and link was wrongfully accused.

thank you so much for sharing! hope that you see this. 🧡