#it pains me to admit that the story would probably be better as a whole without sorata considering i DO like him

[my-current-obsession]

Norn9 final thoughts

I figured before I dive into Winter’s Wish: Spirit of Edo, I should wrap up my thoughts and feelings about the characters/routes/plot of Norn9 as a whole. I tried to be somewhat brief, but know that I’ve devoted at least one long paragraph to each guy, and the ones that really hold my attention (for better or worse...) got a lot more. I’ll be going through in the order that I played.

Senri:  First off, I really love the contrast of how he’s meek and wants to be left alone... but can be absolutely SAVAGE. His verbal sparring game is unmatched. I enjoyed his romance with Koharu quite a lot. It was sweet and wholesome, and I did not expect but DID enjoy how brave he was about trying to pursue her. Although due to Koharu’s general naivety and lack of knowledge/experience, he thought she rejected him like three separate times.

Despite the miscommunications, I think he’s my favorite guy for Koharu. They’re well suited for each other and she brings him out of his shell in a way I can get behind (as opposed to what Kakeru is attempting). My biggest issue with this route was actually just me being frustrated about how Koharu was being manipulated by Shiro in the end. It makes sense to her character and the fact that she knew and trusted him already... but it was still very frustrating to see her be used and isolated from her friends like that.

Heishi: This route was SO GOOD. A lot of the romances, even the ones I kind of liked (for instance Senri) felt a bit rushed or otherwise had some major problems, but the pacing felt REALLY good here. I genuinely loved basically all the relationship-building scenes and could gush about any of them if given the opportunity. It’s also interesting that he basically got two exclusive music tracks that only played in his route (since they were connected to the flute), despite not being the “canon” choice for her.

I think it’s easy to look back in hindsight and say the conflict of the route isn’t great, considering what they were concerned about and what nearly kept them apart... was never an issue at all. But they didn’t know that and the emotions and concerns make perfect sense with what they DO know. I just hope the other espers track them down in the end and tell them the truth so they don’t have that issue weighing on them forever.

Itsuki: I’m torn about him. I think he’s one of my favorite CHARACTERS and he’s a wonderful friend for Heishi and Nanami, but boy does his route have some things that I take umbrage with. The biggest issue is that he CONSISTENTLY makes assumptions and does things “for” Mikoto that are just wrong and against what she herself wants. He spends nearly the first half of his route actually trying to force her towards Sakuya, and she calls him out on this MULTIPLE times.

And yet he NEVER learns. There’s definitely a theme/idea of dreams vs. reality in his route, and even though Mikoto establishes early on in the FIRST dream sequence that she prefers to face reality instead of embrace a false dream... Itsuki STILL tries to trap her in a dream for what he thinks is her benefit. And you find out in Sakuya’s route that his power stays in effect even if he DIES, so in the bad end she’s literally trapped FOREVER with no chance of waking up. Is effectively KILLING her better than letting her face the reality and move on?

You also find out near the end out the route that he’s apparently spent the entire route being threatened by Ron. It’s not clear how this started, but Itsuki spent weeks if not MONTHS under Ron’s thumb without trying to do anything about it, which infuriates me. Especially as, again in Sakuya’s route, we see he can use his powers as a safe place to gather trustworthy people and share information. He had ALL the opportunity to do something, and didn’t. I was a bit frustrated when Ron manipulated Nanami in Heishi’s route, but that was NOTHING compared to this, considering this spanned the WHOLE route as opposed to like 2 days - and Nanami actually WANTED to tell someone!

Even more damning is that Itsuki steals Mikoto’s powers though. Again, this is ostensibly for her benefit, but it sours what happens just beforehand. Mikoto coming to see him and them having sex SHOULD have been a sweet moment, but knowing that immediately after he takes her power, it comes across like he wanted her vulnerable so he could do that, which ruins the moment. It’s sex as a means to an end rather than for its own sake out of love.

And then Mikoto is HAPPY AND RELIEVED to have her power gone because it was a burden, so it’s totally fine that he did that without her knowledge or consent. They straight up leave the group to go live happily ever after, all while Ron and Natsuhiko are going to go after and KILL the others. What a great ending...

Kakeru: I think his route and romance are solid. The pacing and story is pretty good here, and I like the twist of him being brainwashed by Shiro. That said I just don’t like Kakeru himself much, and it’s mainly because I cannot accept how he treats basically anyone that isn’t Koharu, but especially Senri. Akito and Nanami’s fighting annoys him, so he HANDCUFFS THEM TOGETHER - with special cuffs that will ELECTROCUTE Akito? And he outright abuses Senri in an attempt to “help” him come outside and interact with people. He just goes way too far. I think he’s actually a good leader and great at charming/manipulating people into what he wants, but I can’t accept his treatment of people outside Koharu. Doesn’t matter how nice he is to HER if he’s awful to everyone else.

Akito: He starts out as the inverse of Kakeru where he’s VERY antagonistic towards Nanami (but for fairly understandable reasons once the backstory is revealed) but underneath the gruff exterior he’s actually very sweet and kind to everyone else. Based on appearance and personality alone, I liked him A LOT before I’d even begun his route, and I was excited to find out what the heck was going on between him and Nanami. I wasn’t disappointed.

I think if this is your FIRST route, his behavior might be upsetting or make you uncomfortable, but having seen him in several other routes by now I KNEW he was a good guy and thus could patiently wait to find out WHY he hated Nanami. And honestly the gradual change once he started getting to know her was GREAT. He didn’t WANT to know and like her, but when they were FORCED together he didn’t have a choice. I LOVE the scene where he basically BEGS her to leave him alone, because it’s clear the more he gets to know her the harder it is for him to hate her, but he WANTS to hate her.

And then the next choice you get with him, if you make the right choice and raise his affection, he looks pained/unhappy, because again, he likes her more now but HE DOESN’T WANT TO.

The way this route handled guilt and blame was just... so good, too. He starts out hating and blaming her for what happened back then, and as he gets to know her he sees how much she hates and blames HERSELF - which comes to a head in the dream sequence when he sees she would passively let him KILL her if he wanted. After that, there’s no way he can hate her, and he starts blaming himself both for what happened in the past (even though he was just a child and he was just trying to protect his brother) and for Nanami’s hangups.

His forgiveness and love saves Nanami from her self-hatred, and in turn her forgiveness and love saves him from his. It’s beautiful.

Finally, I appreciate that his good ending allows Senri to remember. Even if we don’t get to see the brothers actually talking it out, we can be content with the knowledge that it WILL happen and they’ll be happy together.

Sakuya: I think the conflict behind this route (and Sakuya and Mikoto’s relationship as a whole, which is present to an extent in all routes) is really  compelling. He’s “destined” to die for the one he loves, and while he’s okay with that, Mikoto is NOT. So she distances herself and tries so hard NOT to love him in hopes that it somehow saves him.

Honestly I think this route implies that deep down, Mikoto DOES already love Sakuya, and is just repressing and denying it as hard as possible, which frustratingly makes Itsuki right. But I don’t think that negatively impacts other routes - if anything it makes sense that she would be almost eager to fall in love with someone ELSE.

I appreciate that Sakuya as a character and his relationship with Mikoto is clearly contrasted to Itsuki. While Itsuki thinks Mikoto is weak and needs to be protected (even against her will), Sakuya trusts that she is strong, and in the end, his faith in her wins out as she overcomes the challenge and saves not just herself and him but EVERYONE with her power - and then she VOLUNTARILY gives it up since it’s no longer needed. A much more satisfying outcome than Itsuki’s, personally.

To be clear, Sakuya also does worry about her and thinks she’s taking on too much, and he certainly WANTS to protect her, even at the cost of his life... but unlike Itsuki he respects her wishes and lets her fight. And that trust and faith is rewarded in the end.

Ironically it is once again Itsuki that I have a major issue with in this route, since it’s revealed that AGAIN he was threatened by/working for Ron the entire route. In this case things work out well and no one (aside from Natsuhiko, I guess) is hurt by it. But just because everything turned out okay doesn’t mean I think Itsuki’s lack of action was anything other than stupid.

As for Sakuya, I quite like him. That said, I feel like there a sense of... entitlement, maybe, regarding Mikoto. Because he’s seen the future and knows he’s “destined” to die for the girl he loves, and he’s so sure of his own feelings, he KNOWS that Mikoto is just delaying the inevitable. He DOES NOT like other guys (particularly Itsuki, but also guys in general) getting close to Mikoto, because he’s convinced that eventually she WILL be with him. He gets VERY upset at the misunderstanding in the dream where he thinks Mikoto is confessing to Itsuki and practically forces himself on her, which was a big yikes from me.

Masamune: Most of his route was decent but I didn’t feel strongly about it. I think the “getting drunk off sweets” thing is frankly ridiculous and wish it wasn’t a fairly major part of his route. That said, any goodwill I had towards the route went out the window in the end when he enlisted Nanami and Itsuki to ERASE KOHARU’S MEMORY AND PUT HER IN A DREAM so he could take her away from the conflict.

I understand that Koharu would have been a bit reluctant to leave since she feels like she HAS to help, but knocking her out, making her forget everyone (except him of course) and KIDNAPPING HER was not the answer. This was a more extreme version of what Itsuki did in his route, and as much as I hated that, this was ten times worse. At least Mikoto was AWARE of what he did and could call him out on it. Koharu has no idea what’s been done to her and what she’s lost! She’s just obliviously happy with Masamune all while forgetting all the other friends she’s made. Literally HOW is this a happy ending?

Ron: I know he’s a controversial, love him or hate him kind of guy. I was surprisingly indifferent to him. I kind of like his lazy, chill personality, but I don’t think he’s well suited for Nanami. It probably doesn’t help that the romance just feels awkwardly forced and/or rushed, especially since Nanami’s other two love interests are the best in the game, personally. I have two issues with the route - first, I don’t like that he ends the route with his memory wiped. I understand that he CHOSE to have Nanami do that, which is leagues better than Masamune’s ending, but I guess I don’t get why he couldn’t CHOOSE to start over and do better. Was erasing his memory really necessary?

Second, I don’t like that in this route Nanami straight-up protects/covers for him. She learns he’s the traitor fairly early on and just... doesn’t do anything with that info. And unlike Heishi’s route, Ron isn’t threatening her to keep it quiet. She does it of her own volition, I guess just because she likes him. I can’t justify putting your romantic feelings towards one guy over the well-being of everyone else on board.

Overall Ron was better than I feared (I’d heard some Yang Piofiore comparisons so I was honestly expecting rape, but every time Ron had her in a situation like that he backed off or let her get away, thankfully) but didn’t do much for me anyway.

Natsuhiko: His route was fine but a little underwhelming, personally. He suffers from getting less time to build up a romance (as Mikoto doesn’t end up alone with him until 2-ish chapters into his route, and then spends another one thoroughly afraid of him, which isn’t exactly romantic), so it felt pretty rushed to me. Probably doesn’t help that on my first run of his route (which I played blindly, like all first runs of routes) I missed A LOT of affection and CGs for him.

I feel like a lot of the “right” answers for him are a violation of common sense. WHY would I be combative/testing towards a guy who kidnapped me and has already threatened my life? And why, once we’re actually very close, would I lie instead of honestly telling him what’s on my mind?

Even after a second run through, which certainly HELPED me understand and accept the romance, I still think it’s a bit rushed/forced. Again not helping is that on HIS end of things, the hiyoko he made (and is controlling himself?) does a lot of the heavy lifting regarding him getting to know and like her. She opens up to the hiyoko which is how HE comes to know and like her, but she still doesn’t know or like him. There’s just not enough build up to justify her falling for him, IMO.

I like Natsuhiko as a character but he has seriously skewed priorities. I personally cannot get behind him valuing knowledge over peace and the lives of everyone on Earth. The Reset may not always be necessary, but sometimes it might have been and humanity might have DIED OUT without it. All the knowledge in the world is useless if there’s no one left to use it.

He also kind of seems to change his mind about killing the espers JUST because he loves Mikoto. It’s not so much that he thinks they’re innocent humans and deserve to live, but rather he’s willing to take the risk of letting them live... because he knows Mikoto would hate him otherwise.

I do like his ending though. Him being forced to acknowledge that he was part of the problem and giving up on his weapons in a bid for peace was good!

Epilogue: I like Sorata a lot as a character. He’s very smart and sassy for a kid. That said, he feels unnecessary to the plot. His epilogue with Aion felt like the writers created a problem so he could be the solution to it. Aion itself needs to exist as the Reset is a huge part of the story, but the backstory and Sorata’s tenuous connection to it could ALL be cut and nothing would be lost, as Sorata barely exists in the routes outside of the beginning of Natsuhiko’s. Rather than Aion sticking around longer than expected (because she was hanging on specifically to see Sorata), she could have just been intended to last that long.

Other/Misc.: Overall I really enjoyed this game, although the non-romance aspects of the plot (and sometimes the romances too) could get pretty messy. I like all three heroines, though I do have issues with Koharu being so easily manipulated. I appreciate how sweet and caring she is though.

I think the biggest missed opportunity in the game is not having three distinct timelines with set pairings. Some of the routes SEEM to connect or coincide as the other girls are clearly hinting at or outright talking about things that happened in THOSE routes, but by the end things have clearly diverged in ways that the routes can’t coexist.

This certainly isn’t the case for all routes, but sometimes the “side” pairings with the other girls REALLY matter in a route. For instance Itsuki/Mikoto is a BIG part of Heishi’s route, and I really loved it. I was excited at the time to see “their” side of the story play out in Itsuki’s route... which obviously didn’t happen. Perhaps no one else feels this way, but I just think it would have been Neat to play three sides to an interconnected story rather than every route being separate but still occasionally nodding to other routes.

[darnell-la]

Sub! Logan would be so fucking hot. And the way you write him is soo good! I'd love to see your ideas about how he would act as a sub.

note: we rushed this BUT we have more. better ones coming soon!

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“Going to pearls,” a woman spoke as she got into his car. “What’s your name?” He asked to confirm. “Y/n,” she said. The man turned around, realizing that this young lady was alone.

Usually, he picks up a huge group. That’s why he has a limousine, but she’s alone and has no one on her guest list.

“You gonna drive, handsome?” Y/n asked. Logan quickly turned back around and began driving. He was surprised by the nickname, but he let it go. He’s been called everything by now.

Logan’s been driving for ten minutes, music low, and y/n looking out the window. He’s never felt this awkwardness because it wasn’t him and only one person in the car.

“So — Friends busy?” He asked. Y/n slowly turned her head, looking at the man in the mirror. “All canceled. As always,” she added before she looked back out of the window.

“Oh,” he said, feeling a bit bad. He could see she paid one hundred for every hour tonight, and he would be with her for six hours.

“I mean, I can talk to my job, probably give you a refund or somethin,” he said, feeling like he should help her in some way. Usually, the man couldn’t care less, but y/n’s a young woman going to a club alone.

“I’ll be fine — Guess all the drinks I bought will be for me,” she said in a low voice that pained Logan to hear. She seemed sweet, and her friends canceled out on her. All of them.

“What was this for? Like, tonight? What did you have planned for tonight?” He kept a conversation going which confused y/n. His profile says he preferred not to talk and that he wouldn’t talk first.

“Well, it’s kind of my birthday, so — Yeah,” y/n sighed. “Oh, well — Happy birthday?” He said, not knowing if it was appropriate. The woman giggled to herself at his attempt to make her feel better.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna drink? I’ve got plenty and I can’t leave with any bottles,” she said, pointing to the bottles on the table, all hard liquor and only one juice for a mixture.

“I kind of have to drive you back home,” Logan turned down her offer, which he’d never done before. “C’mon! It’s my birthday,” she smiled at the man as she raised a bottle for him to take.

Logan waved her off, wanting to be responsible and think about her life that could be at stake, but he still felt bad about the empty spaces on the couches.

“Fine, but only if you don’t report me,” he joked, making her laugh as she took a bottle herself. “Cheers to me and my only friend who showed up which is the bodyguard,” she raised her drink.

“Cheers,” the man chuckled before raising the drink to his lips. He watched the girl drink, thinking it would be a small amount like any young lady, but her — She had almost chugged half the bottle.

“Woah, bub — Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, making her roll her eyes playfully. “Oh, don’t be mad because I can drink more than you,” she said, wanting to have some kind of fun tonight. Getting her bodyguard drunk and then driving her home sounds like a fun story to tell.

“Trust me, y/n — You can’t,” he said, but y/n didn’t believe him. That was until he shrugged his shoulders and chugged the whole bottle. The expression across her face was stunned. She’s never seen anything like that before.

“What the fuck,” she whispered. “Yeah — Kinda my power,” he chuckled. The man turned around to start his job and stood outside of her closed section until she spoke.

“Wait! I-I’m kind of alone so I don’t mind if you — stay? Please, I kind of feel like shit,” she admitted. She told her friends she was completely fine about their cancellation, but she’s not. She lost a lot of money and her mood was talk.

Logan couldn’t turn the offer down just like the last, so he stayed. The two drank all night, finishing every last bottle. She even got him to dance with her which he wouldn’t have done with anyone else. He had no idea what’s gotten into him tonight.

“God, tonight was fun,” y/n said as the man turned the corner where her apartment was. “Yeah, it was,” Logan smiled as he took a quick look at the young lady who was now sitting in the passenger seat, body turned towards him.

“You don’t understand how much I appreciate you, Mister Logan. You were the best fun I’ve had in like years!” She admitted. He wasn’t scared to drink and dance like most of her friends were.

“You’re the most fun I’ve had in maybe forever,” Logan meant it, but she had no idea who this man was. She was too sad to notice when she first met him and now she’s too drunk to realize.

“Is there a way I can repay you? Maybe like a cup of tea? I don’t fuckin’ know,” y/n laughed with him. “I don’t know, hun, I kind of have to get back home,” he said.

“How far do you live from here?” She asked. “About thirty minutes,” he said. “Oh, no,” she gasped. He’d been drinking because of her, and now she was going to have him drive back and half an hour just to get him.

“Don’t worry, bub. I've been doin’ this a lot,” he said. “Yeah, but I’ll be stressed all night. Please, stay the night. I have a spare room? It’s the least I can do,” she said, sounding like a beg. “God, it’s hard to turn you down. Do you know that?” He said as y/n smiled.

Logan parked the car for the night before y/n got him situated in her spare room. “Still want tea?” She asked. “I think I’ll be fine, bub,” he said. “But a shot would due,” he added. He had seen the liquor drawer she had.

“Comin’ right up, handsome,” she said before walking off. As she did, he couldn’t help but watch her figure. He scanned her dress earlier, but she looked way better just now. Maybe it was the alcohol? He didn’t know.

“You always drink this much?” She asked. “Yeah, and you?” He asked as she handed him his shot before sitting next to him with hers. “As you can see,” she giggled.

“Cheers to a goodnight with a man I brought back from the club?” She couldn’t help herself. “Cheers,” the man downed the drink as he watched her. She’s looked so drinking…

“God, that it’s hard,” she shook her head. “Yeah,” he aimlessly said as he watched a drop of liquor roll down her lip. “Hey, c’mere,” the man said, softly turning her face before wiping the liquor from her mouth.

Y/n was shocked and silent, not knowing what to do after. That seemed so sweet, but at the same time, she was drunk out of her mind.

“They look pretty,” the man spoke, breaking the silence. His thumb grazed her bottom lip, loving the smooth feeling of them. “Really?” She asked low, feeling shy all of a sudden. She hasn’t been all night until now.

“Mhm hm,” he mumbled as he slowly leaned into her. She felt like she was in a trance the way she felt she needed to lean in. Her heart was raising until their lips touched.

At first, it was sweet and slow, maybe a little tongue but after they both opened and locked eyes, they couldn’t help it.

Y/n quickly hopped on top of Logan, now grinding on his hips as he held her up by her ass. The man was shocked at her aggression and dominance but couldn’t complain.

“You taste so good,” she said under her breath as she kissed him. “I’m glad I took you home,” she added before moving down to his neck. She felt this hard urge to mark the man she hardly knew.

“Fuck, y/n,” Logan moaned low. He knew his voice could go that high. Y/n hummed into his neck, sucking long and rough to make sure he was living here marked up.

“Can feel how hard you are. Bet you’ve been waiting for me to touch you all night, hm?” She asked, hands traveling down his stomach until she could palm his clothes cock.

“Mhm hm,” the man whined at her grip. “Words, baby,” she demanded in a soft voice. “Y-Yes, baby,” the man’s mouth went slack at her touch. “So good,” she said before pushing him down in the bed.

“Gonna be good for me tonight?” She asked as he nodded quickly. “Gonna be my birthday gift, baby?” Y/n had lifted her dress before fondling with his belt. “Yes, yes, I am,” he couldn’t hide his heavy breathing.

“Oh god — You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” Y/n pulled Logan’s cock out. He was heavy and huge. “Yes, I am,” he answered, wanting to be good for her. He wanted to make her proud. He wanted to make a woman he barely knew, proud.

“He looks hungry,” y/n stroked the man, watching his pre cum leak from the tip. Y/n spat on the man’s cock, making his eyes widen because no one has ever done that to him before. They’d just wrap their mouth around him or push him inside with no preparation.

“Gonna feel so good,” y/n lifted her hips before sliding all the way down in one go. “F-Fuck,” the man cried out, his already bucking up into her.

“Fuck — Could you be my bodyguard every night?” She jokingly asked but the man nodded back so quickly, she thought about it. Maybe he isn’t too bad. He was fun tonight. He could be fun every night.

“Gonna let me wet you every night, baby?” Y/n asked as she leaned down on his body. “Fuck, yes — I wanna be with you every night,” the man’s hips moved slightly up into y/n, causing her to clench around him from how deep he gets.

“How old are you again, baby?” Y/n asked. “Two hundred,” the man’s hands gripped y/n’s ass, not thinking about his response. “A man with a sense of humor — So hot,”

Y/n rolled her hips, grinding on the man to feel every thick and long inch in her. The way his skin rubbed her walls, made her squeeze around him. He was close but felt embarrassed about how short he was going to last.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” Y/n asked, seeing the man bite his lip, trying to focus on holding back. “C’mon — I want you to fill me,” y/n whispered in his ear before giving it a light slick.

“Fuck,” the man let out a shaky moan as his legs shook. “C’mon, baby — Cum in me,” y/n began bouncing in the man’s cock, feeling him twitch inside her. She just knew he was going to give her a big and well-needed load.

“C’mon,” y/n rode him harder, filling the room with their skin slapping against each other and her wet cunt coating his cock. “I’m cumming!” Logan warned through his teeth as his hips bucked upwards a few times.

Y/n kept riding him, mixing his seed inside of her until she felt like she had enough. “So fuckin’ good, baby. I wonder if you taste you,” y/n spoke, feeling the urge to suck him dry.

“Fuck, it’s too much,” the old man said, grilling her hips a bit tight so she could slow down, but she wouldn’t. “Oh, really?” She asked, feeling the knot grow in her stomach. She was so close.

“God- Fuck — I can’t take it, baby,” Logan tried begging her. “Yes, you can. Just a few more seconds, baby. You think you can do that?” She asked, looking into Logan’s eyes. They were glossy and full of lust.

The man nodded his head with a shaky hum, feeling the need to cum again. “Good boy,” she spoke as she leaned up, rocking her hips back and forth until she couldn’t anymore.

Y/n released on the man, earning a whine from him. After she came, he couldn’t hold himself in. He had come inside of her again. For the second time.

“Oh god,” y/n breathed out, feeling so full. “S-Sorry,” the man shook as she leaned in front of his face, hands rubbing his cheek. “Wanna feel more of you,” she said.

The man was shocked at how many times this woman could go, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. He wanted to pleasure her and make her happy. He tried to be good for her. And he was for the whole night and many more.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Binary Star

Part I

Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

____________

He is really going to get her this time. This is the finish line, quite literally: the graduation; his last attempt to win and emerge victorious from the very last battle between him and her. It has to be it.

If he couldn't win against her for the last time, Gojo would probably have a mental breakdown right in the middle of the ceremony. Geto standing right next to him rolls his eyes to the ceiling over his friend who's shaking from excitement and fear. Of course, Satoru wouldn't admit it even under torture, but Suguru knows better. The girl his friend has been competing with throughout high school isn't just smart: she's completely insane like Gojo and as big pain in the ass as him. Who knows, perhaps she'll really win this round. He prefers not to think of it.

Satoru searches for her in the crowd, standing on his toes despite already being a foot taller than anyone else in the hall. Is she here? This nightmarish woman who has been pushing him to give high school his all because she dared to take away his crown of the best student during their freshman year? When Satoru saw the scores, he thought he might have had a heart attack. There was no way he was no longer #1.

"That's what you get for messing around the chem lab," Shoko snorted while Satoru dumbly stared at the name of that annoying girl, always the teachers' pet, heading the list. His name was written right under hers.

What the actual fuck?! She got a better score than him? Him, the genius, with his undeniably superior IQ of 180 that he flaunted at any given time? Who did she think she was, Sheldon Cooper or something?

It got him so fired up he actually started studying.

"You're so dumb," Geto eventually said after his friend had gotten in the argument with the girl during their ethics class - again. "You know you could be making out with her now, right? She's the only person who could actually get along with your stubborn ass."

"Wha-a-at? What about you?" Immediately disregarding his question, Satoru was already pouting like a kid. "Wouldn't you date me?"

"Yeah, over my dead fucking body."

To be fair, it's not that Gojo never thought of her that way - she was pretty, even if he was never going to admit it out loud - but she was also so insufferable Gojo really couldn't focus on anything else but beating her in that game they were playing. The best score on the history exam? They both wanted it. Math test? Him and her were working on those questions as if their lives depended on it. Biology project? Satoru made sure to do the impossible, submitting something he would get a Noble prize for, and yet he still somehow managed to get the same grade as her. It was absolutely infuriating.

Why on Earth did she decide she could be better than him? He was Satoru Gojo, after all. The one and only son of Gojo family, who was not only embarrassingly rich but also fucking smart - his parents used to flaunt his talents throughout his whole childhood and continued doing it well into adulthood. He couldn't tell them he was no longer #1. What would his mother say? Dear God, it was hard to imagine what would happen to his father of he learned some random girl got a better grade for that English paper than him. It was, at the very least, unbecoming of Satoru.

But she was unrelenting, irritated with his status of the school genius, and ready to fight him on every occasion. Satoru had no idea what could piss her off so much - in the end, he was the most charming guy around, wasn't he? - but there wasn't a day she'd let him have his way. She was brave, persistent, and knowledgeable, and he hated her very much.

The fact that Shoko and Suguru were asking him to please get together with her and stop antagonizing the whole school only riled up Gojo even more. As if he was going to date that nerd!

When he learned she'd be running for the valedictorian, it was the last drop. No fucking way. She couldn't take it away from him - even if he had never actually cared about being a valedictorian.

If his friends had thought he was obessessing over her, now they realized Satoru went completely nuts. He started studying so much he barely slept: it was a given, considering the bags under his eyes were making his skinny ass look like a starving raccoon. Geto couldn't drag gim out even in between lessons because Satoru was immediately burying his head in the books.

It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

Pfft, of course she won't. She'll probably stab him in the parking lot once he tries to get into his car.

But when the headmaster finally announces the results, and his, Satoru Gojo's, name is called, he no longer sees her in the crowd, and the sweet taste of victory suddenly turns to ashes in his mouth.

Where is she? She couldn't have known it would be him. To be frank, he didn't either. How could she leave right before the results were announced?

He gives his speech with a stupid smile plastered all over his face, but his mood has already soured. She had to be there to hear he was named this year's valedictorian! What face did she make? Did she leave right after she heard it wasn't her? Did she cry? Did she run away because she couldn't take it? Wasn't she going to say to him anything at all?

How could she just... vanish?

He doesn't know why he expected her to be the bigger person and come tell him he did great, but he truly did. Suddenly, he realizes he wants her to look him in the face and say he is good enough.

Did he need to be the bigger person, perhaps? But, wait, isn't he a bigger person by default because he's the winner, he wondered. The winner is always the bigger person if he doesn't rub loser's face in the dirt, right?

In the end, he couldn't even enjoy the victory he had been craving for so long.

"She had something urgent come up," Shoko says later in the restaurant, making a tsk-ing sound while Gojo listens to her with a frown on his face. "Something about her family."

Something about her family? What could be as important as the announcement of valedictorian?

"Are you dumb?" With a sigh, Suguru cocks his head to the side. "Plenty of things are more important than this valedictorian crap."

Maybe to somebody else, but not to her, Satoru thinks. Beating him has always been the only thing on her mind, and nothing could have changed that.

__________

He will be mulling over it for a long, long time once he realizes she did not follow him to Harvard despite her scholarship.

Part II

Tags: @minshookie29

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Even Better: part 1 (Angst) (18+)

TLR!Michelangelo x reader

Part 2

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A/N: Finally finished The Last Ronin the other day. Other than making me cry like a bitch, I have to admit it made me thirst for some TLR Mikey. Dude deserves a good smut written about him🖤 And to be honest, I had a hard time stopping once I first got started. This is my longest one yet, goodness😭😂

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You’re April’s daughter and Casey Marie’s twin sister. Most of your life you’ve been dreaming about the turtles of your mother’s youth, but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal.

Reader is at least 20. As far as I know, Mikey is in his 40’s.

Warnings: Spelling, age difference, masturbation (reader), caught in the act, oral - female receiving, dom Mikey and sub reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, a little pain, size difference, size kink?

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Your mother had told you and your twin sister many stories about the turtles and their rat father over the years. How she and your father met each other because of them. How Splinter taught both his sons and your parents how to fight. How Leonardo fiercely protected his brothers, and as your mother put it, was seen as an absolute killjoy by his brothers. How Raphael matched your father in temper with an equally big and golden heart hiding within him. How Donatello could speed days locked up in his lab, and the many times he inspired your mom in her own lab. And how Michelangelo could light up a room with his loud jokes and bright smile. You and your sister would often point them out in the picture frames hanging around the lair, and beg your mom to tell more stories about them, no matter how mundane. The time your mom and Donnie made a tracking device in the lab, the time your father and Raph played hockey a whole night, or the time Mikey pranked Leo so hard that Splinter put him on cleaning duties for a whole month. You wanted to hear it all. Every single little detail.But that didn’t change the fact that they are all gone now. Your mother’s best friends and your father.

As you and Casey Marie got older, you continued to ask your mother for stories. But while Casey Marie wanted to hear about New York City before the Foot came to power, while you still asked for the turtles, getting more and more interested in the mundane part of their lives. Like whose room was it that you had made your room in? Who used to sit in the seat you sat in when eating dinner? And that mug you found in the storage, who did that belong to that? So many questions, and your mother could only give you so many answers.

Once you reached your teenage years, you started fantasizing about the four mutant turtles. Was that wrong? Their pictures literally hung on the walls of your underground home, so it wasn’t as if you could just ignore them. It probably didn’t help much that you didn’t like going outside, deciding to stay in the lair with your mother, while Casey Marie went out and explored. But that just gave you more time to help out your mother and learn more about the turtles.

As you gathered more and more information about the turtles, you started to form scenarios in your head, imagining how it would be to get together with the turtles. Which one of them would be the best friend, the best boyfriend, or even the best in bed. That proved to be a question you would contemplate for years, finding yourself staring at the pictures of the four turtles in the hallway in your early twenties, still with that little question in the back of your head. Although your thoughts about the turtles had calmed a bit once you had hit your twenties, you could not deny that they still lingered in the back of your head from time to time. So when your sister one day brought a passed out mutant turtle home, you did not know what to do with yourself. You were shocked, and maybe even a bit scared. He was way bigger than you had thought he would have been, but given his age it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

Your mother knew who he was straight away. It was Mikey. The turtle whose room you had been occupying every since the day you and your sister grew too old for sharing the same bed with your mom. He was bruised and bleeding badly. Thank God for your mothers medical skills, otherwise Mikey’s fate would have been a dark one.

It took some time for Mikey to wake up, but when he did, he was much different than you had thought he would be. Your mother had spoken highly about his jokes and his warm happiness, but during dinner the day he woke up, you saw none of that. The only time you heard him speak the first day, was when you overheard a conversation between him and your mom in the kitchen. His voice was much deeper than you had anticipated, catching you off guard. And of course he heard you gasp and stopped talking, not speaking a word until you had gotten what you needed, and leaving the kitchen so they could continue their talk.

Three days had passed, and Mikey had still not spoken a word directly to you. He had thanked your sister for saving him while you were close by, but that was pretty much. There was this one time where he took up the whole hallway, staring at the exact picture of him and his brothers, you had found yourself staring at many times. When you asked if you could pass by, he did not say a word. He just looked at you out of the corner of his eye, before moving to the side, giving you more than enough space before you ran by.

Michelangelo was really nothing like you had expected him to be like. You had thought he would be nice, open and warm, talking your ear off like your mother had said he always did. But now he was silent, closed off and cold. He almost seemed angry. It scared you a little bit. Made you nervous whenever you were around him. Whenever you were sitting and talking with your mom or Casey Marie, you would lock up when he entered the room. But as much as he scared you, you also found him very interesting. You blamed your teenage fantasies for finding his form attractive. His toned muscles, covered in bruises, and the visible veins on his neck, arms and hands. The wrinkles on his face told of the things he had been through, and his eyes were always so distant, as if he was watching something no one else could see. But when his eyes suddenly snapped to you, catching you staring at him, you panicked, quickly avoiding your eyes, feeling your cheeks getting red. Luckily for you, Casey Marie came into the room, as loud as your mother had said your father was, telling Mikey about something, giving you the distraction you needed to run to your room. You stayed there the rest of the day, too embarrassed to come out.

That evening you laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling above you. You cursed yourself for choosing this room when you were little. Now you couldn’t fall asleep without thinking about Mikey’s eyes on you. Anywhere you looked, you were reminded by the fact that Mikey used to look at the same walls as you did. Heck, you were even sleeping in the bed he used to sleep in. As far as you knew, the blanket, pillow and sheets were also his. It did not matter how many times you had washed them over the years, because they now suddenly smelled strongly of him, not letting you rest for a moment.

You found yourself getting frustrated. None of the turtles had invaded your head so badly ever since you were a teenager, and now you could feel the same need and tension from back then build up between your legs. You pressed your naked thighs together under the blanket, feeling the wetness in your panties. You sighed out in frustration, as you once again remembered the old turtle’s eyes on you. As much as you had felt embarrassed under his eyes, you could not help feel aroused at the thought. He had caught you staring. Michelangelo had caught you with his strong gaze. And now here you were, laying in his old bed with your panties soaked just thinking about him.

Your fingers moved down your stomach, getting closer and closer to your core. It was okay to touch yourself with the older turtle in mind, right? You had done it before, so why would it be any different now? And with that thought you let your fingers slide into your panties, where you found your clit. With yet another sigh you started to rub your small bundle of nerves, letting your thoughts drift back to the muscular turtle. His broad shoulders, his big hands, his thick thighs. With his general size, you could only imagine what he could be packing in secret. You used both hands to slide your panties down, leaving them somewhere under the blanket, before pushing your legs out further, letting your fingers continue their movements around your clit.

A  knock on your door caused you to quickly pull your hand out from under the blanket. You sat up in the bed, staring towards the door as it opened. You were almost ready to sink to the ground when you saw who it was.

“Sorry”, Mikey said. “Were you sleeping?”

“Just about”, you answered, tugging the blanket closer around you.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see my room once again”, Mikey said, his eyes falling towards the foot of his old bed. “May I?”

You nodded, watching him as he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He stood for a moment, staring into nothingness, before his eyes moved to his surroundings. It was almost just the way he remembered it. You had only moved a few things, but other than that, it looked like his old bedroom. Same bed frame and all. He let out a small chuckle, remembering all the memories he had between these four walls. The chuckle was light, lighter than sounds you ever had heard from him. That surprised you, and Mikey noticed, though he decided not to say anything about it, acting as if he forgot you even were in the room. Acting as if he couldn’t smell the heavy odor in the air. Truth be told, he did not notice the odor when he first came to the room, nor did he notice it when he walked into the room. It wasn’t until he stood a few feet from the bed that he really noticed it. But with his back turned to you, he did not dare to move or look in your direction. It was the same smell he had noticed when he caught you staring at him earlier that day. It was a scent that seemed to follow you, at least whenever he was around. Yet it wasn’t until now he realized what that scent could be signifying.

You watched as Mikey moved around the room, feeling your legs shake under the blanket. As horrified as you were, you could not deny the excitement. Knowing that lower half of your body was naked under the blanket, with the old mutant just a few feet away from you. You clenched your teeth as you rubbed your thighs together, your eyes lingering on the way his overalls clung around his thick veiny thighs. You had to keep your breathing calm as you the movement in his muscles, and the way his big hands smoothed over an antiche on one of the shelfs. Slowly, making sure his back was still turned to you, his focus on everything else except you on the bed, you let your hand move back under the blanket, once again finding your now dripping core. You suppressed every sound as you slowly started to circle your clit again, your eyes focusing on his hands. The size, the veins, the roughness. You could only imagine how they would feel against you. His rough skin against yours.

“You’re young”, Mikey rumbled, his back still turned to you. You froze, your heart pounding. Yet you managed to remove your hand before he spoke once more. “But you’re not stupid. You know I know what you were doing. I can smell it”. He turned his body towards you, taking small slow steps towards the bed, his voice deep and echoing against the brick walls of his old room. Once again, terrifying yet strangely arousing. It was at that moment that Mikey decided to let go. For the past 20 years he had traveled alone. He was tired. He felt lonely. And with this sweet scent in the air, begging him to come closer, he had to surrender. Even though you were one of his best friend’s daughters, he could not deny your beauty or how your hormones in the air drew him to you. “I could smell it when you were staring at me, and I can smell it now as I’m telling you”. He was now so close to the bed, that his knees were hitting the mattress at the end of the bed. In a slow move, he was standing with both of his knees planted firmly against the bed under him, towering over you. You were too stunned to speak, your mouth dry as you tried to swallow. But damn it, it didn’t change the fact that your heart was beating fast and your nipples were hard under your shirt. “But one thing I can’t smell…”, the mutant continued. “... Is if you still have your underwear on under the blanket”. He took a hold of the fabric of the blanket, pulling slightly at it, making it move down your body, stopping right over your hip. You whimpered slightly. You knew you found Mikey attractive, but this was almost ridiculous. He hadn’t even done anything, and you were already out of breath. “What will I find, (Y/N)?”

“Off”, you choked out. “They’re off”.

“Good girl”, Mikey hummed, pulling further on the blanket. It tickled as the blanket slowly moved off your skin, causing you to curl your legs up against you. With the blanket in his big hands, Mikey’s stare burned into your dripping core, just behind your closed legs. He could almost feel the heat from his towering position, watching the glistening of your folds in the dim light, your sweet scent taking a hold of his senses. Mikey suddenly felt hungry. Hungry in a way he had never felt before.

The churr that erupted from his chest almost made you jump in surprise. It was deep, deeper than you had ever dreamed it would be.

Silently he let go of the blanket to grab a hold of your ankle, his big hands easily opening you up for him. Not that you tried to fight him. No, not at all. All you could do was watch him and his hungry eyes as he crawled further onto the bed, making you gasp at every touch of him against your skin, and marvel at the sheer size of his hands on your ankles. Mikey used his rough hands to keep your legs open for him, letting him move closer to your core. Your breath hitched when you felt his breath against your knee, just before the inside of your thigh. You let out the slightest moan as Mikey’s eyes locked with yours, just as his lips meet your thigh, just above your knee. His hands slipped under your knees, sliding up the outside of your thighs, bringing your legs over his shoulder and onto his shell, before curling around them, his big strong arms holding you open, revealing your aching core even further.

“I’ve always dreamed of having a woman in my bed”, Mikey murmured against your thigh, his lips slowly making their way upwards, letting his tongue lick and his teeth nibble on the way. “Though I always thought that it would happen while I was a teenager, but life has its ways to surprise us”.

“Me too”, you breathed out, making Mikey look questionable at you, his lips still working their way closer to your core. “I used to dream about you when I was a teenager”.

Mikey let out a chuckle. It was almost a laugh. Your heart almost stopped at the sound. You had never thought that you would get to hear the mutant laugh. A chuckle? Sure. A laugh? Never.

“Is that so?”, Mikey smiled against your soft skin, feeling himself getting more daring. He could literally smell and see how his words affected you. The way you bite your lips with your pupils blown wide, and how your beautiful center started to cling around empty air. The thought of how you would cling around him, brought him dangerously close to dropping, making his churr sound as he spoke. “On my bed while I was gone? You’re a better girl than I thought, waiting patiently for me to come home”.

You sighed at his praise, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. This was already better than anything you could have made up in your mind. “Mikey”, you sighed, grabbing onto the sheet under you, breathing heavily at the close proximity of his lips to your flower.

“Is this how you’ve dreamed of me?”, he asked, before his tongue drew a line, all the way from the bottom of your core to the top, flicking your clit on the way.

“Mikey!”, you gasped in pleasure, your hands flying onto the arms around your legs.

“Not so loud, (Y/N)”, Mikey whispered against your mount. “We can’t let them hear us”.

You nodded, bringing an already shaking hand up to your mouth, before Mikey let his large tongue flick your clit once more, enjoying the feeling of how your thighs tensed in his grip. It was soon followed by another flick and yet another. It didn’t take long before you grabbed a hold of the front of your shirt, biting down on that instead of just covering your mouth with your bare hand. Mikey saw how that made your shirt rise further up, letting out a deep churr like moan against your clit. The vibration of one of your heels kicked against his shell, while a head flew to his bald head. Your head rolled back as Mikey started to suck on your clit, making your shirt rise even further. One of Mikey’s hands moved from your legs and up your side, until his hand was right on your breast. Your shirt rose over his two big knuckles, exposing your chest. You groaned against your shirt in satisfaction as Mikey’s gigantic hand started palming your breast, while his tongue and lips continued their work on your clit. Mikey hummed against your clit, finding the taste of your juices and sounds sweeter than honey. He wanted more.

With the hand of the thigh that Mikey’s arm was still wrapped around, he replaced his lips and tongue with his thumb on your clit, letting his tongue sneak down to your entrance. He growled at the sight of you squirming against him, his thumb rubbing circles on your bundles of nerves, while his tongue started exploring your insides. Your eyes fell shut as you threw your head to the side, your hips buckling against his face, and your small hand grabbing on to the one that was still groping your breast. You were close. Fuck, you were close. Your free leg over Mikey’s shoulder started to move frantically as you got closer, the other shaking against Mikey’s grip. He took in the sight of you. You red flushed face, your now messy hair, and the way your breast shook ever so slightly at each sudden move. Mikey started to grind himself against the mattress under him, getting himself closer to his drop, his tongue doing curled motions inside your warm walls, all while his thumb still assaulted your clit. That was when you started to grab onto him frantically. You were close, so fucking close for him. Mikey growled against you. He was going to get you there.

And then it happened. Your legs clamped around Mikey’s head as you came with a muffled scream that sounded like his name, and your legs spazzing over his shoulder. Mikey quickly retracted his hand from your chest, forcing your legs open with both his hands, licking up every last bit of your orgasm, every breath from him sounding like a groan. You puffed and panted, your hands forming fists around the sheets as Mikey rode out your high, until your legs finally started to relax under his hands.

Mikey sat up and started to undo his overalls. His moves were almost frantic as he undid his belt, followed by his straps, all while you laid there and watched him, still recovering from the earth shaking orgasm he had brought you, your now soaked shirt clinging to your collarbone. You once again started rubbing your thighs together, the sight of the undressing turtle making your heart pound.

“You like this, don’t you, (Y/N)?”, he growled with a smug smile, as he started to push the overalls down his body and down his muscular thighs. “Just like you used to dream of, huh?”

“Almost”, you smiled back, feeling yourself getting more mischievous, letting a hand slide down to your now overly sensitive clit. “It’s even better”.

The terrapin growled at the sight, shoving the rest of his clothes onto the floor, revealing himself before you in all of his naked glory. You marveled at the full sight of his toned body, feeling your body shiver with need once more. Mikey huffed before he grabbed a hold of your wrist, moving your fingers to his mouth, so he could suck off what little slick you had picked up on them. That alone caused you to let out a choked moan.

“No more self pleasure”, he said, before throwing your hand to the mattress, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. “Take this off and I’ll show you what’s even better”.

Whatever sound you made, it was enough to make Mikey chuckle as he watched you sit up to take off your shirt, leaving you fully naked in front of him. Once your shirt hit the floor he slowly crawled over you, his deep eyes watching you like a predator hunting a prey. Instictly you leaned backwards, slowly letting your back fall against the mattress, until Mikey had you lying fully onto the bed, with him positioned between your legs. You felt his breath across your face, his beak so close that you instinctively closed your eyes, your lips searching for his. His lips were rough yet soft, and moved against yours with ease. The kiss started out sweet, as if he hadn’t just fucked you dirty with his tongue. Your arms moved around his thick neck, your fingers tracing shapes on the back of his head, your legs curling around his thick thighs. Mikey’s hands moved to hold your close by the shoulders. It wasn’t until a soft moan escaped your lips that his large tongue dared to ask for entrance. And once entrance was granted, this got heated once again. Mikey started to grind his cloaca against your soaked flower, his lips swallowing every sound that came from your pretty mouth.

“Mikey”, you moaned against his lips, buckling your hips against him. “Please, Mikey. I want it”.

Mikey pulled from your lips and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, before his eyes caught yours. “Tell me if it hurts”, he whispered, a sudden softness in his voice. In the short time you had known him, you had never heard Mikey be soft. “Tell me and I’ll stop”.

“I will”, you nodded, feeling a soft kiss against your lips, before his kisses started to move down your neck just by your ear. One of his hands moved between the two of you to his cloaca, where he pulled himself out with ease, before he slowly started dragging his head up and down your folds before he found your entrance. With even more kisses down your neck, he slowly pushed into your tight hole, groaning against your skin. You had to bite down onto his shoulder in order not to scream. He was so much bigger than you had thought he would be, stretching you out to the point where it was hard to tell the difference between pleasure and pain.

“You’re doing so great, (Y/N)”, Mikey groaned against your ear, almost making your eyes roll back just by the sound. Your arms hugged tighter unto him as he moved further in, making him groan by how tight your walls were hugging him. “Fuck”. You whimpered against him, adjusting to his size. Mikey brought a hand to your face, pulling back slightly so he could look at you. “So good. You’re doing so good, (Y/N)”, he said before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

“Please, Mikey”, you whimpered, nudging him with your leg. “Please move”.

Mikey answered you with another kiss, before letting his head drop back down to your ear. He ever so slowly started to pull out of you, before slowly pushing back in. You quickly hide your face against his broad shoulder once more, whimpering at the small wave of pleasure. Mikey listened closely to your muffled sounds at his slow speed, trying to find any signs of pain. But once he found none he slowly started speeding up.

“Shit”, he moaned against your ear, his thrust becoming harder. “You feel so good, (Y/N)”. Your hands clawed onto his shell, your sounds muffled by his rough skin against your mouth.

Mikey’s legs moved further apart, making it easier for him to move against you. With the bed starting to creak lightly under you, you prayed that neither your mother or sister would hear anything. Neither the way you whimpered against the mutant turtle, or the way he cursed and groaned against your ear, telling you how good you were. Michelangelo fucking you raw on his old childhood bed was not something they needed to know. But you would be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamed of this moment, ever since he was brought back down to the lair. And now you were enjoying the full force of his God-like thighs.

Mikey placed a hand over your mouth and pulled back, looking down at you with hungry yet mischievous eyes. “Is this what you’ve dreamed of?”, he asked, his hips continuing to drive into you, setting a new speed. “To be fucked like this but and old mutant?” You nodded frantically, wanting to scream against his hand. A bright smug smile grew on his lips, bringing a boyish charm you had never seen on him before. He almost looked 20 years younger. “You’re such a good girl, (Y/N). Tell me, who is fucking you this good?”

“You, Mikey!”, you whimpered against his hand, your head spinning at the second high that was starting to build in your lower region.

“You’re getting close, ain’t you, (Y/N)?” His hand moved from your mouth to your throat, making you fight to stay quiet. Your heart beating faster and faster as you got closer and closer to your second orgasm. “Who are you coming for, (Y/N)?”

And with that your second orgasm that night hit you like a brick wall. Your body spazzing and your head spinning, you let out a loud soar moan. “Mikey!” The said mutant roughly pulled you in for another hungry kiss, swallowing every sound as you came hard around him. His speed continued high, the bed creaking while he rode out your high. His thrusts started to become erratic against your still shaking body, before he too came, groaning your name out loud.

Mikey stayed upon you, as the both of you caught your breath. With one last kiss, he slowly pulled out of you, leaving the two of you with small noises of complaint by the lack of each other. He laid back on his shell, staring up at his old ceiling while catching his breath. He instinctively pulled you close with his big arm, letting you rest your head upon his shoulder. He knew he should leave. You had both been noisier than he had wished to be, and he feared what April would say if she found him cuddling with her freshly fucked daughter in his arms. But Mikey could not deny how nice it was to be laying there with you in his old room. Who would have thought that his teenage dream of having sex in his room actually would come true.

“So”, you smiled from his side. “Was this just like your dream of having a woman in your room?”

Mikey chuckled, pulling you even closer. “It was even better”.

[natti-ice]

The Truth Will Set You Free- Tom Riddle.

Pairing: Tom riddle x fem!reader

Summary: a mysterious letter reveals Tom’s biggest secret.

Warnings: angst, written in third person (she/her pronouns) (1k words)

Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

"YOU'RE MARRIED?!?" She yelled at him, watching the color drain from his face gave her the answer. Tom closed the book he had been reading peacefully as he lounged in a plush chair in his dorm room.

"What are you talking about, dear?" He swallowed, he saw Y/N holding a piece of paper in her hand, confusion and anger in her facial expressions. He had no idea how this could have got to her, barely anyone knew about this.

"I received this letter this morning" she started, showing him the paper she had been clutching onto for the past twenty minutes. "I don't know if this is some sick joke or if you've been lying to me this whole time. Tom, is it true?" She didn't know what to think, when she got the letter she thought it was someone trying to play with her. But as the letter went on it seemed too real

"Tom and I were wed the summer before his sixth year. Once he graduates we shall start a family together, I believe you deserve to know since there are talks of your attachment to him. Just know, this is how it has to be, he cannot be yours."

Reading this brought a sharp pain in her chest, she thought she knew the man she loved. She knew he had his secrets, but she wouldn't think he would withhold this from her. Her emotions were all jumbled into one, she didn't know what to feel.

"It's true," he said in a hushed tone, his head hung low like a dog being scolded. "You weren't supposed to find out this way"

"Like this? Or was I not supposed to find out at all?" Okay, it seems her anger has gotten the better of her

"Please let me explain, Y/N" Tom begged. His usual stoic demeanor had completely vanished, he had never let his emotions show this way, it made him feel weak.

"I don't know if I want to hear it, Tom. How could you do this to me?"

"I didn't do it to hurt you" he raised his voice as he became angry at himself "I figured if you knew, you would want nothing to do with me" he admitted

"You're probably right about that" she said sarcastically

"Y/N, please don't joke about this" he warned "if you'd let me, I'll explain to you everything that happened. Only the truth" his eyes met hers he could see the pain in them, that shattered his heart. When he met Y/N he knew he had found the only person in the world he could truly care for. She broke down every wall he tried to put up with ease, there was no way he could let her get away.

"Fine, go ahead" she whispered as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat

He sighed, calming his brain before proceeding to tell her about something that has eaten at him every day for the past two years. "At the end of my fifth year, my mother put me into an arranged marriage. I fought and fought to get out of it, but no matter what I said I couldn't get out. She paired me with some pure-blooded floozy who couldn't last a day without her father's money, the day of the ceremony was the worst day of my life. My mother expects me to have children with that girl and I honestly couldn't care less about that stupid girl." Talking about her put a bad taste in his mouth, he hated her with every ounce of his being.

"I just don't get why you didn't tell me" Y/N said during Tom's pause

"I didn't tell you because it's a part of me that I hate. Having my name attached to someone who I will never love, isn't something I'm proud of. When I met you, it was like that terrible situation was in the past and you were my future. For years I have been trying to find a way out of this marriage. I plan to divorce her as soon as I'm done with school." He felt slight relief as he finally got this off his chest, it always weighed heavy on him.

Y/N stood a foot away from Tom, as he explained his story her heart broke more, she had never seen Tom in such pain before, and it definitely wasn't a good feeling to watch. "What about your mother?" She asked

"I don't care about that woman! She hasn't a motherly bone in her body, once I'm done with school I'll never see her again" His hatred for his mother ran deep, Y/N knew he never liked his mother. She understood why, if she was her mother she'd probably feel the exact same way.

"Y/N" Tom reached for her hand, wrapping both his hands around her, bringing it up to his mouth gently kissing the back. "I am very sorry I never told you about this, I've never been good at telling the truth but that's no excuse. I promise you, you are the only person I will ever love." This is the truest thing to ever leave Tom's mouth

God, he's so beautiful she thought, searching for any trace he was lying to her. Sometimes she felt foolish thinking about how much she loved him, his hold on her was so strong. But she wouldn't change a thing.

"I'm so conflicted right now" she admitted, "but I believe you, you swear you want nothing to do with her?"

"Cross my heart, I would never dream of being with her" he brought his hand up to Y/N's cheek, slowly stroking it with his thumb. "You are the only person I want to marry" he whispered

"Good, because I don't think I'd like a life without you" she slightly grinned

"What if, when we're done at this tragic place, you and I run off together? We won't have to worry about anyone else, it'll just be us living our life together" Tom suggested

"That sounds like a very thought out plan, dear" she smirked "perhaps I might take you up on that offer" she leaned in, slightly pecking his lips

"You really have to get those papers signed, Tom. I am no one's mistress" she half-joked but he knew she was serious.

"Anything for you my dear"

Join a tag list!

[cloud-somersault]

Something that absolutely destroys me about shadowpeach is just the fact that they weren't "good" to each other. They loved each other, sure, but sometimes love just isn't enough.

They are "right person wrong time." They helped each other unintentionally go into a self-destructive paths, and the worst part is that only Wukong managed to get out of it before it ruined him.

Its just so fucked up, imagine you love someone and they love you but they are undeniably going into a path with no return but they do change and they become better, but only after you're gone.

Yeah, I think shadowpeach is compelling and interesting for the layers of tragedy it has. I really do think they're the "right person, wrong time" type of dynamic. If they met each other later on, there wouldn't have been any major problems; just ones they could address as they come up.

But I think...it's a great showing of how people can change each other. A chance interaction can change a person for life. We, as people, are made up of those interactions, the pain, the hurt, the love, the joy we've been shown and what we've given to others.

Wukong and Macaque were doing what they felt was right. In the way they felt was right. And they didn't know how to address it or be better, because confronting the communication issues and lack of respect and value means admitting there's a problem, and neither of them wanted to do that.

I don't think Macaque wanted to, he just wanted to put up with it and stay on Wukong's good side. He disregarded his own hesitations and doubts and believed in this person wholeheartedly instead of making his own decisions and choosing to go against the grain. It's hard to say "no" to the Monkey King, admittedly, but Macaque, probably, felt as if he couldn't.

In s4, he subtly tried to remove himself from the uprising against Heaven, but Wukong dragged him back in on the premise that they're "bros" and it'll be a fun "whatever" kind of time and not a life or death situation. Macaque saw that truth; Wukong refused to.

And that's a lot of Wukong's whole story - thinking he's invincible, that he's above everyone, that he's the handsomest and strongest and best ever. he was entitled and didn't like being told no. Very haughty and spoiled. A brat. He had sense and was funny and showed kindness when he needed to, but he was selfish, also.

Against all that, Macaque's in an odd position. They're friends, but Macaque is quiet. He's subtle. A shadow. Introverted and observant, he probably never felt as if his voice mattered or would change anything. But getting the attention of the Monkey King is a high honor!

And Wukong just thought Macaque was cool, another strong guy with shadow magic that he could get into mischief with. Someone like him!!

It reminds me of a dynamic you see a lot in media. The adventurous main character paired with a more shy and scared secondary character. The main character drags them around unwillingly into situations, assuring the secondary character everything will be fine. And, eventually, it takes the secondary character standing up for themselves for a change to occur.

And that's what happened in that cave.

There is tragedy...in someone you love changing after you're no longer in their life. But...it's more important that they changed at all. A lot of people don't. It's difficult to change. And Wukong was traveling (and was trapped) in this journey with people, learning and humbling himself along the way, learning friendship and love. It took that specific environment and discipline to change him, because changing the Monkey King?? Is a huge task, something that Macaque by himself couldn't do.

And that's said around this fandom like it's a bad thing. I know Macaque would see it as one, because that's his character, but...I don't know. I don't see it as one. Maybe you're not what that person needs, not at that moment, not at that time. And that's..okay. I think that's something we gotta accept.

Because we can't fix everyone. We can't hold ourselves to that standard. Just as I said before, people are collections of their interactions with others, and maybe those other people...are what Wukong needed at that moment. Maybe Macaque wasn't at a point in his life, maturity wise or life experience wise, to direct Wukong on the path to change. Maybe that wasn't his burden to bear.

Sometimes it takes a specific person to say something. With how people weave in and out of each others lives, I think the takeaway should be more "I'm glad you changed. I'm proud of you. You did it!" Like, let's focus on the end result, because...if people change for the better, than they can help others change, and maybe Wukong is the right person at this right time to help Macaque change.

[mrs-snape5984]

“As long as I'm with you, I've got a smile on my face…”

“Save your tears, it'll be okay. All I know is you're here with me…” (“Here with me” by D4vd)

Suffering from ME/CFS makes me feel like my whole world is falling apart in front of my eyes. Since I’ve already lost so much joy and so many abilities due to this devastating disease, my continuing loss seems to increase even further.

As some of you might know, do I love to write my own stories about Severus and Julia just as much as I enjoy using my tumblr blog as some kind of journal, whenever I’ve commissioned another artwork. It’s my way of rolling out a red carpet for the artists of Snapedom…it’s my way of honouring them for their talent in their profession. Commissioning those amazing people and letting them make my ideas and fantasies come to life, is my very own manner of coping with my physical and emotional pain.

And now, this coping mechanism seems to crumble into pieces as well as everything else, that I’ve already lost! It hurts me to admit, that my brain fog takes advantage of my capability to create vivid images with my words. My thoughts are getting blurry and chaotic. I’m struggling to find the right words to express my emotions (it’s even worse in my native language German than in English!!)…and this scares me to hell!

My mind was the only place, where I could find some shelter from my infuriating and terrifying reality of losing myself to ME/CFS. What if I forfeit my only - just barely existing- talent now?? How should I flee this nightmare of existence if writing wouldn’t be an option anymore?! How should I express my gratitude towards all those marvellous artists of Snapedom, who are all weaving my emotional comfort blanket with each piece of their art?!?

I don’t want to give up on my writing…and I won’t…even though my pride would probably fade away with each badly written chapter of my fictions…and with each unworthy post on my blog. I must admit, that I’m already acknowledging the loss of quality. 🥺

I found an inspiring poem about the importance of staying resilient, no matter how difficult the hardships of life might become, and I want to share it with you:

"KEEP GOING" (Better known as "DON'T QUIT") by Edgar A. Guest

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will, When the road you're trudging seems all uphill, When the funds are low and debts are high, And you want to smile but have to sigh.

When care is pressing you down a bit, Rest, if you must, but DON'T YOU QUIT!

Life is queer with its twists and turns, As everyone of us sometimes learns, And many a failure turns about,

When he might have won if he'd stuck it out, Don't give up though the pace seems slow, You might succeed with another blow.

Often the struggler has given up, When he might captured the victor's cup.

And he learned too late, when the night slipped down, How close he was to the golden crown,

Success is failure turned inside out, The silver tint on clouds of doubt, And you never can tell how close you are, It may be near when it seems afar,

So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit, It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit.

My dear @mmad-lover, I can’t stress enough how grateful I am for your dedication to this stunning piece of art and believe me, it was worth every single second of waiting! Paula, I was incredibly touched to hear, that my request seemed to be something special, something personal to you. I can assure you, that, indeed, all of my ideas have a profound meaning to me and I’m glad that you’re such an empathetic person, who sensed that particular importance of your art to me. Your devotion to this drawing is palpable in every single detail, every line of your brushes. You created exactly the mood, that I wished for Severus and Julia. It doesn’t matter that the world is burning to the ground around them, they will always have each other’s backs! Just like I’m relying on Severus for more than 21 years now. Thank you for everything, you precious soul! I’m glad that I met you and I hope, we’ll stay in touch. 🥹

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

[alchemistc]

i wanna start out by saying ive been patiently waiting for a hockey AU on the bucktommy fandom and your Goon fic is everything i have ever wanted, im honestly obsessed with your characterization of tommy

i have never been that big on rpf in the hockey fandom, but i always love reading people write crosby in their hockey aus, also love how you include Hockey Lore TM in the story

so, i wanted your take on the insane 'tradition' (not really tradition, more of a common occurrence) of players playing through injuries specially in the playoffs (I remember that in the 2016 or 2017 cup run, there was more players currently injured on the penguins than not, pretty sure Letang or Daley had like, broken fingers for most of the last round) and how many times Buck had to run away from Hen so he could play, because if anyone is more likely to play through injuries, i'd say is Evan "i-had-another-surgery-instead-of-waiting-for-my-leg-crush-injury-to-heal-naturally" Buckley, or Evan "I-sued-my-job-because-they-wouldnt-let-me-do-said-job-after-said-leg-crush-injury-and-vomitting-blood" Buckley

Thank you thank you! Goon has been so much fun to craft, and I'm loving seeing the hockey fans and the 'what's a chiclet' 9-1-1 fans alike enjoy it!

Personally? I hate it. I think the whole idea of it is fucking insane and detrimental to not only their physical health but their mental health as well. (From the Avs fan perspective, regardless of what we actually know about the Nichushkin situation, the man broke his foot and played through it, likely got addicted to a painkiller in the recovery process, missed a playoff series because of [redacted], had a career fucking year and then sent himself to the Players Assistance Program, came back, had MORE career highlights, and then...failed a drug test in the run up to the playoffs and got himself suspended.

(Another reason players just play through injury and mental health crisis is the Players Assistance Program, which IS ANOTHER MAJOR FAILING OF HOCKEY CULTURE IN GENERAL)

Hell, Landy played through a not-healed-injury after he took Cale's skate to his knee and now he's had two surgeries and may never make another appearance in a game because of it.

(I can't think of the player at the moment, but I remember a cup run where a player was playing with fractured ribs and it was later revealed that if he'd taken a puck or a nasty hit or gone into the boards wrong there was a chance he'd have had a vital organ punctured and likely wouldn't have known the extent of the damage until he'd collapsed from internal bleeding. It didn't happen, but WHAT THE FUCK)

And fans have a tendency to glorify them as gods for 'fighting through the pain' in their quest for the Cup.

As far as Goon goes:

They're all gonna be playing through injury. SInce this is from Tommy's perspective, he's coming at it from two angles - he's the guy who's played through injury his whole career just to keep a spot in the lineup, he's toughed it out and dealt with the numbing agents and the wraps and the twinge that doesn't go away for weeks at a time (and the aforementioned pain killers that eventually prompted him to go to fucking therapy in the first place). He is also the guy who has spent four years unpacking why exactly he did that - how much of it is the culture, how much of it is his own shit and his dad telling him to rub some dirt in it and stop being a pussy, how much of it has just been to prove himself capable of being one of the guys in the room.

There's also Hen, who pushes harder than the other trainers, and calls out the bullshit when she sees it, so yeah, this team probably has a slightly better track record of keeping the guy out with upper body injury out of the lineup for longer than any other team would, but - Buck's not the only one who's learned how to lie about exactly how much pain he's in and how well his recovery is going. He'll strain shit and refuse to admit it, he'll push through on a 'minor' injury unless he thinks playing on it would threaten his career. (He absolutely has NO real concept of how bad an injury actually is, tbh, because like everyone else he's been lying about it for so long he doesn't have an accurate pain scale.)

The tldr of this is that I don't condone it, but the reality is it's so ingrained in kids coming up that it's a reality of the culture and I'm not necessarily gonna shy away from that. It's not a huge focus of the story, but there will be hints here and there.

[sarucane]

Stede Bonnet's Stories (S2)

In season 2 of OFMD, Stede has finally figured out the stories he wants to tell about his life--and has even begun to believe them. But he hasn't figured out how to make those stories real. How to tell a story with others, rather than to them.

When season 2 begins, Stede is isolated within his stories. He's telling his most important story--his romance--to anyone who will listen (and anyone who can listen in the case of his roommates). He's writing letters to Ed every day and telling his love story again and again, cementing it, willing it to be real. But he's avoiding true vulnerability. He's scared that connection will bring pain, will send him back into an old story he is trying to escape, and his fear is controlling him. Pure storytelling isn't going to move Stede's life forward, as Zheng points out to him.

And he's not wrong to be scared. Stede's stories in this episode aren't going to come true the way he envisions them, because they're too disconnected from reality. This isn't a new problem for Stede: in the first season, this same problem made Stede vulnerable to mutiny and manipulation.

But Stede's grown since then. In the second season, Stede knows there's a disconnect, knows his stories are in tension with reality. He admits it in his letters, that he knows Ed probably doesn't want to see him, will probably never read his letters.

But he keeps writing them, every day. Because even though he's scared, he does want Ed to find the letters. He does want to tell his story.

And his stories will shape reality--but not until after reality shapes them.

It's not bad that Stede is cultivating this story. But it's part of why, in the first episodes of s2, Stede is purely reactive. He is so preoccupied with his own insecurities, with a story that disconnects him from everything around him (like how he yells at Richie in an alley about wanting privacy), that he doesn't go looking for Ed. And by the time he finally reaches Ed, it's almost too late. Ed's story has broken him off from everything and everyone.

But Stede does reach Ed, does manage to reconnect with him. And he does this by not clinging to his misty-eyed romance. Lucius forces Stede to let go of his ego-driven idea that Ed's life is "better without me," and to let go of his misty-eyed romance. To look at Ed's crimes and think about what they mean. To think about how Ed experiences himself and his own story, not just how Stede experiences it.

And then Stede understands that the only way to move forward is to weave together his story, reality, and other people's stories. And that lets him move from vision to action.

After three episodes of passivity, it's Stede who makes the decisions that determine how the story of Ed and the Revenge mutiny are going to end. And that lets him do more than he ever could before. Be more than he even understands he can be.

But in an achingly human development, Ed and Stede go two steps forward and three steps back. Because Ed has a whole different story, all his own.

Ed rejects the story Stede brought with him. He's fighting Stede's stories all through the scenes at Anne and Mary's, right up until Stede corners him with reality.

The entire complex reality of their story now--the problems of their original relationship, the truth of Ed's hurt and Stede's failure, the difficulty of what lies in front of them if they want to move forward--is stronger than Stede's romantic dream that Ed would "melt back into his arms."

And that's a good thing, because Stede's story was as reductive as a story of an impossible bird. Stede'll never be a swashbuckler who can defeat Izzy in a duel, Ed'll never have a beard that long again.

The stories Stede told himself about their relationship being "on a break," the story Ed told himself that his time with Stede was "the best it's ever gonna get for him," those stories weren't real. But the core truth of both of their stories was love. And though love has as little objective reality as hope or mercy, it can be real.

When Ed and Stede talk at Anne and Mary's, Stede puts aside any hopes he'd had in a reunion, his idealized fantasies of what he and Ed can be to each other. Instead, he focuses on love. On a bond with Ed that is entirely unconditional, that asks nothing of Ed. That gives Ed space, to accept Stede's story--or to reject it. Stede sets aside all his stories to focus on the most basic building block of true connection: vulnerability.

And when Ed doesn't reject him, Stede connects his vulnerability, his love story, to the simple reality in front of him: Ed's life.

In the past, Stede's vulnerability through stories has led him to become self-obsessed, to get caught up in his own ego and what he wants the world to become. But as the season goes on, Stede learns to listen to other people's stories. To embrace the vulnerability of changing his stories, so he can connect other stories to his own. So he can let go of some things (like a cursed suit) but hang onto others (like a red velvety shirt).

This is far from a perfect transition. Stede holds onto the suit for so long he has a near-mutiny on his hands. But he also sets aside his own story so he can respect Ed's vulnerability and fears, helps Ed and the crew turn poison into positivity, then slips through a hole (literally) in Ned Lowe's story.

But then Stede gets caught up in his own story, in his own fears and insecurities, and messes up with Ed. He clings to Ed too tightly, tells a story that goes too fast for Ed at the end of ep 6. And in episode 7, Stede gets completely caught up in his own story, to the point that he again disconnects from Ed.

He brushes over the nuance of what actually happened with Ned to enjoy the benefits of righteous fame--until he loses literally track of Ed, and of Ed's story. Until he's addressing Ed as "Blackbeard."

And then, Stede's tested. His out-of-control story runs headlong into Ed's. What he thought of as the best day (and probably night) of his life turns out to have been a crisis point for someone he loves.

Stede could have panicked or frozen when this happened. Could have disconnected, could have ;lashed out with a story where his vulnerability led to victimhood, or retreated into the story that swept him up last year (the fear that he'll bring Ed nothing but ruin). Could have told his preferred story as loudly as he can, just as he has in the past.

Instead, he listens. And he does everything he can to connect with Ed, even mirroring Ed's body language in this scene. He meets Ed's vulnerability with his own, recognizes the truth of Ed's different experience, and seeks a way that they can connect and tell their story together.

Stede can do this because he spent the season learning how to listen to other people's stories. How to decode the tales of his own crew, Ned Lowe's crew, and Ed, and how to connect his own stories to theirs.

So when Ed announces he's leaving, Stede knows what's actually happening. Knows that Ed isn't invalidating their relationship. That life is hard, change and dealing with insecurities are scary, and sometimes we panic, and we react in ways that aren't useful. Stede's still hurt, but he isn't broken by this.

And so, even when Ed and Stede are separated and confused, their bond survives. And it turns out that Stede's commitment to Ed, the story he wove at the beginning of the season--it wasn't everything, but it was enough. Enough that even when all their plans and the world have fallen apart, Ed and Stede can put it all back together.

Because Stede wasn't alone, even when he feared he was, when he wrote those vulnerable letters daily on a lonely beach. We saw in the first episodes that Ed was thinking of him, right when Stede was thinking of Ed. And Ed did get one of his letters--and right when he needed it most.

Stede's stories have led him down a lot of mistaken paths, have nearly gotten him killed more than once. But when he consciously told stories that made him vulnerable, that spoke to what he truly wanted, he became more himself than ever. And when real vulnerability is met by vulnerability, it can turn into strength. Instead of Ed and Stede knocking each other over, as they did in the opening fantasy scene of 2x1, they hold each other up when they meet in 2x8.

When Stede and Ed reunite, Stede doesn't get hung up on resolving conflicting stories or worrying about his own insecurities. He just accepts Ed. Offers Ed a story in which he can make mistakes not because he's a bad person, or doesn't love Stede, but because "life's a dick" and sometimes we fuck up.

And when Ed offers Stede his story, offers his vulnerability, Stede doesn't try to match it with something identical. Doesn't echo it or risk overwriting it with his own words. He listens to it. He lets Ed know that he's safe with Stede and always has been. He folds Ed's words into his own story--and just like that, (like Lucius and Pete with their wedding vows) Stede and Ed really can tell the same story, with two voices.

From disconnection comes connection.

Ed's and Stede's stories intertwine, and then they shape reality around them. Together, they throw themselves into a fight against the British. When Stede makes the plan to sneak out--to slip through a hole in another enemy's story--Ed is the one we see stripping the soldiers to carry out the plan. When Izzy's dying and Ed demands help, Stede's the one who goes to get bandages.

The season ends with Ed and Stede setting out to tell another story together. One that balances both their stories--Ed's need to not be a pirate, Stede's and Ed's desire to give their relationship a real chance--and has space for both of them to tell.

And in the last lines of dialogue, Stede tries one last time to impose his own idealized story on reality, talking about how the house "smells like the future." It's a pretty story, but not helpful. So Stede lets it go. He and Ed'll find whatever's making that stench, they'll clean it up--and they'll make a safe space where they can tell their story together.

[majesty-madness]

"Liquid Grief" - Bucky Barnes x reader (sfw)

Summary: Parties were never her thing, especially when alcohol is involved.

Word Count: 3700+

Warnings: angst, crying, panic attack, anxiety, alcohol consumption, mentions of being drunk/tipsy, past trauma, mentions of family problems

a/n: I won’t say too much, but I will say that this is based on a bit of my own experiences. So I just want to say that if you’ve been through something like this you are not alone, and because it’s difficult to bring up this topic with people I know, writing it out in a story helps me process through it. And if this helps you in some way, I’m glad you found comfort in it.

Also, I know the title is a little weird; it was kind of an ironic twist on the whole “liquid courage” phrase. Not proofread.

Main Masterlist

She couldn’t believe she agreed to be here. 

This was the absolute last place she wanted to be right now, and yet here she was; on the top floor of the Avengers base in New York, probably Tony’s most ritzy floor in the entire building. 

Tony decided for one reason or another to have a small party to celebrate their successful missions as of late, and that was fine but eventually people who had nothing to do with the Avengers showed up until it was packed. 

That was just one of the downsides to having Tony as a friend, he invited way too many people.

Tony had invited Bucky as well despite their history, seeing as how he was a friend to Steve and Tony considered Steve his friend so to each his own. 

Y/N could tell the moment they arrived that Bucky had been slightly nervous as well, and it was because of his nervousness that Y/N was adamant in staying. Not to mention that her best friend, Natasha would also be there. 

No matter how uncomfortable Y/N was at the party, she felt that since she was such a homebody that she should try to enjoy something she didn’t usually participate in. 

A whole lot of good that turned out to be. 

As soon as Y/N got there, Natasha had been distracted by a retired SHIELD agent who she knew but Y/N did not. 

And while she originally stayed with Bucky, Sam quickly dragged him away once he saw the man.

It left Y/N to fend for herself, which meant talking to people she barely knew. 

To make matters worse, every single person there was drinking. Wine, beer, whiskey, vodka, you name it, someone had it. 

The sight of any kind of alcohol made Y/N anxious. It reminded her too much of her family. 

When they began to drink they acted like completely different people, people she didn’t recognize and while her family had never done anything to hurt her, in some way it still pained her seeing how they could barely get through one day without a drink in their hands. 

She remembered the countless times she timidly admitted that she was worried because they drank so much and acted like…well not themselves. Sadly after saying so she’d be met with anger or frustration at the fact that she pointed out their unprecedented behavior. 

They would go on to say she didn’t know what she was talking about and that she was judging them, trying to tell them she thought she was better than they were.

Though once they’d sober up, they apologized for how they behaved and the guilt was clear in their eyes, but the damage was already done. 

So nowadays, alcohol (no matter the form) put her on edge. 

However, Y/N wasn’t going to prance around telling people they were wrong for drinking alcohol because in small doses, drinking was okay. It wouldn’t kill you to have an occasional drink, but when someone needed it every day, that was a problem. A problem she didn’t know how to deal with. 

Was it a problem though? Was she being dramatic? Maybe too sensitive or emotional? Perhaps a prude for her grudge against the fermented beverage? 

That’s what Y/N thought at least. 

Her brain rationalized that she was a weirdo, an odd duck because she refused to drink. 

I mean if everyone else was such a big fan of it, then why wasn’t she? 

Quickly, Y/N shook her head out of the creeping thoughts that entered without her permission.

Her ears suddenly tuned back to the receptionist that had been talking to her for the majority of the night, not missing the glass of wine in the lady’s hand. 

“Do you think that a date to a cafe is boring?” The young woman asked her. 

Y/N blinked a few times, trying to get her head back to reality. “Uh, no I don’t think so. Bucky and I go to the cafe all the time.” 

The girl tilted her head to the side, eyes squinting in confusion. “Bucky?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, you probably don’t know who that is, um…it’s that man over by the bar. The one with gloves and black leather jacket.” Y/N quickly explained while she pointed to Bucky talking to Sam at the bar. 

The lady turned to look over her shoulder immediately seeing him and expressing that she saw him. “Oh, yeah! James Barnes, right? The guy who used to be the Winter Soldier. How is he? Ya know, adjusting to the modern times.”

The mention of the name HYDRA gave him, caused Y/N to pause and slowly process what she was asking. 

God, she needed to get out of here. Her anxiety was short circuiting her brain. 

“Uh.. he’s fine I guess, things are still a bit new for him so it's a work in progress.” 

She watched the lady nod, cheerily, a little too cheerily when another woman walked over. Someone Y/N, yet again, did not know. 

“Hey, Christine! How are you?” 

The receptionist beamed with a smile. “I’m doing great, Nicole, how are you? Did you get that new job?”

The two ladies began to chit chat amongst themselves, side stepping Y/N’s existence entirely. Not that she really gave a shit since she didn’t know these girls personally. 

Though she decided to stay for another ten minutes in case one of them did want to talk to her, but once the topic of the woman, Nicole's dog came up, Y/N ditched the conversation all together. 

Her feet subconsciously carried her to the man she desperately wanted to be beside. 

Y/N heard the familiar sound of Bucky’s laughter at something Sam said, causing the slightest of smiles to appear across her face. 

Unfortunately, the smile vanished when her eyes caught the shape of two shot glasses sitting beside them on top of the bar. 

Don’t freak out. She scolded herself, putting on an act as she stepped beside the two men. 

“Hey.”

Bucky met her gaze first, his hand coming up instinctively to rest on her back. “Hey, Doll.” 

“What are you guys up to?” Y/N asked while faking a casual attitude. 

“Just trading stories.” Bucky said, grinning from ear to ear. 

Clearly, he was completely relaxed, and Y/N knew that was thanks to Sam. He definitely had the lighthearted aura that Bucky needed, someone who let him look forward to the future. 

“And playing an old drinking game.” Sam added loudly over top of the music that was playing.

Suddenly her throat felt dry like she just swallowed sand. It was beginning to get hard to breath, to think, to calm down. The familiar rush of panic began to rise from the pit of her stomach to her heart causing it to thump harshly. 

Oh no. 

Y/N gulped. “Oh yeah…” 

“Yeah, so how about you join us?” Sam suggested, already pouring liquor into another shot glass. He held it up in front of him, toward Y/N. 

She felt her heart rate spike right then as she eyed the brown-ish colored liquid with an all too familiar smell. 

“No thanks, I’m good.” She declined politely, trying to keep her voice from cracking. 

Sam pushed it closer to her. “Oh come on, don’t be like that. Just one.” 

Sweat began to fall from her pores, her throat felt tight, and her tongue was heavy. For a second, she doubted she could speak at all. 

“I said no, Sam, I-I don’t want it.” Her nerves caused her body to tremble with anxiety, the recipe for a panic attack. 

Her brain knew exactly what was happening, making her repeat the same phrase in her mind. 

Don’t freak out. 

Don’t freak out. 

Don’t Freak Out. 

DON’T Freak Out.

DON’T FREAK OUT!

“One shot, that’s it.” Sam persisted.

Then she snapped. “I SAID, I didn’t want it, Sam!” 

As quickly as it came the shocked expression on both Bucky and Sam’s face, cleared away the anger and what washed over her was an enormous amount of guilt. 

Her eyes darted between the two men, sight becoming clouded with tears. “I- I’m so sorry…” 

She actually whimpered before turning on her heel, and sprinting right out the door on that floor. 

Y/N barely made it into the hallway when the tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. She sobbed as she ran down the empty space, hoping to get out from the four walls as soon as possible. 

Luckily, she was aware of a balcony just around the corner.

On the first day that she visited the inside of the Avengers base, she had found a little balcony tucked away a few floors below the very top. When at the vase, she spent a lot of time on that balcony just taking in the city view. 

It was the perfect spot to go unbothered for long periods of time and now she desperately needed that. 

She took a sharp right turn down another hallway, breaking off into a section that was the balcony. She pushed past the glass door, and stumbled outside until her body collided with the railing. 

Her hands gripped the railing, body hutching over, and breaths coming out in hurried huffs of air. 

Knowing that no one would hear her from below or above, Y/N let herself openly cry into the night air. 

Every little memory of her family drinking, every thought of frustration or sadness, every time she’d been rejected came to the forefront of her mind. Despite all the years that passed, the despair still felt fresh. 

She selfishly wished they would’ve stopped drinking, stopped acting like idiots, stopped promising they’d stop then do it again, stopped betraying her trust, stopped dismissing her when she expressed her concern. 

Just stopped. 

Y/N knew that they were only human, and humans were inherently flawed; of course she knew that. She had largely forgiven the times they hurt her, as she was sure that they forgave her when she hurt them, but she could never shake the sorrow of this ongoing problem. 

How many times did she have to go through this before it stopped hurting? 

What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to solve this? 

Had she not done enough? Too much?

What did she do wrong?

That last thought caused her body to go slack against the railing, and fall to the balcony floor. She sat on her knees with her hands planted to the floor, tears dripping from her cheeks as her face looked down. 

It had been a long time since she last cried so hard, and she already could feel her eyes swelling from the pressure. 

Y/N continued to cry for several minutes, heavy pants escaping her mouth even as she attempted to calm her breathing. It just wasn’t happening. 

Nothing pulled her out of her broken state until she heard the sound of someone stepping out onto the balcony. 

“Y/N?” A familiar voice gently spoke. 

She might’ve stopped crying had it been anyone else, but not Bucky. However, she made no attempt to speak, instead she shook her head. 

He stepped even closer to her, pausing just short of a few steps then crouched down. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Finally, she found her voice. “I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why they drank so much because all it does is make them act like fools, act like people I don’t know.” 

The confession left Bucky a little confused as he wasn’t sure who she was referring to, but he stayed silent, simply letting her get it out. 

“They didn’t used to, they used to have fun without it, used to live without it. But once they started, they never stopped. And it was always so much, but when I told them I was worried for them they got angry with me, like I was attacking them.” She paused as a sob stuttered out. 

Bucky placed both hands on her shoulders, fully sinking down onto the floor with her. 

“I just wanted them to take care of themselves, I wanted them to go back to the way they used to be, be the people I know instead of being these entirely different people.” She brought one of her hands to cover her mouth to somehow silence the gut wrenching cry that hurt her throat. 

That time Bucky wrapped his arms around her, bringing her inside his warm embrace. She reciprocated by doing the same, tucking her face into his shoulder, and blind to the tear marks she left on his jacket. 

“I love them so much, and I just wanted them to be okay, to be healthy. But all I ever got was rejection, especially whenever I said that it made me uncomfortable when they drank. It’s like they didn’t care! No matter what, it just-” 

She didn’t finish opting to cry and hold Bucky as if he were her lifeline. In a way, he was. 

He cradled the back of her head, the other arm securing her body against him. “Shh, shh it’s okay, sweetheart it’s okay. I’m here.” 

Bucky felt Y/N shake her head on his shoulder. “I feel so stupid for being so upset, because I know that a lot of people drink, it’s me that’s the weird one.”

“No, darling, you’re not.” 

“They made so many promises, saying they would stop but they never did and I tried to be understanding. I really did, but it didn’t matter. We ended up right back to where we started. I don’t know what to do or how I’m supposed to feel. I hate this!” 

Y/N was breathing hard, so much so Bucky thought she was on the cusp of hyperventilating. “Darling, I know that this is hard, but I need to take a deep breath. On three, you’ll breathe through your nose then out through your mouth okay?” 

“I can’t..” She shook her head, making a gasping like sound when she sobbed again. 

“You can, I promise. Just breathe with me, listen to me. One..two..three, breath in.” Bucky then inhaled through his nose, hearing Y/N do the same albeit a little shaky. “Breathe out…” 

Both of them exhaled through the mouth, and he noticed that she trembled a little less now. 

“That’s good, let’s try it again okay? Breathe in….” 

She closed her eyes, following his instructions. 

“Breathe out…” 

They did that together several more times, and Y/N eventually came back to the present and calmly took in the world around her. The warmth of his embrace, the sound of his breathing, his heartbeat, the hand rubbing her back up and down, all of it.

Instead of being forced back to the real world, it felt as though someone had gently grabbed a hold of her hand and guided her back to a place of serenity. 

Bucky carefully pulled back, letting his hands stay on her back. “Are you okay? Feel a little calmer?”

Y/N gave a slight nod, wiping away a few of her tears. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, I promise I’ll listen, I’ll do whatever you need.” He reassured as he kept his voice low and soft so he wouldn’t overwhelm her. 

So she told him. 

She told him about how when she was a kid, her family began to drink and had never stopped. How irresponsibly they acted, how mad they got at her for bringing it up, their apologies while heartfelt didn’t change anything, and how much it had impacted her over the years as well as how silly she felt for being so panicked about it. 

In her mind, alcohol was something that everyone in the entire world had and took part in and so she thought perhaps she was the inconvenient one for choosing a different way of life. 

“That’s a lot to deal with.” Bucky said hushedly, sitting on the floor beside Y/N. 

She resorted to pulling her knees up to rest her chin on top of them. “I know.”

There was a lul of silence between them, the sounds of the bustling city way down below the only thing they could hear. 

Then Y/N sighed, throat still thick from crying. “The thing that kills me is that they’re good people, I mean they gave me a great childhood and everything. I just want better for them.” 

Bucky shook his head in her defense. “But Y/N you can still love them and not agree with the choices they make. And even if drinking is something a lot of people do, you’re not stupid for wanting nothing to do with it.”

“I know that too. It makes me sad though, they can’t seem to live without it; that’s not who they used to be.” 

Y/N felt the slightest bit of tears return to her eyes causing her to lift her head up and look toward the sky. 

Bucky noticed right away so he wrapped one arm around her shoulder, and tugged her toward him. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s alright to be sad about it, but listen: you are not responsible for what your family decides to do. They have the freedom to make those choices, that’s not something you can control.” 

She looked over to the love of her life, all teary eyed and despaired. Bucky lifted his hand up to wipe a lone tear that managed to escape. 

“If what you said is true, then your family does care about you. That’s a good thing, but they can’t expect you to be alright with the actions that make you uncomfortable and they’ll have to accept that you're not okay with it.” 

Y/N laid her head on his shoulder, face tucked into his neck. He then brought both of his arms around her, beginning to slowly rock back and forth. “What’s important is that you focus on trying to live your life, and not letting them take over your’s. Yes, continue to love them, but ultimately they gotta own their own decisions and not rely on you to tell them.”

He felt the familiar movement of her nodding as she pushed herself further into his side. He was a bit convinced that if she could disappear into him, she would. 

Most times, he felt the same. 

“Bucky?” Her small voice made its way to his ears. 

“Yes?” He whispered back to her. 

“I love you.” 

The super soldier smiled that time. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“No, no, no. None of that.” The man quickly interjected. “You don’t let me apologize for the problems I have so I won’t let you.” 

For the first time that night, Y/N laughed. “Okay, okay, I won’t apologize. Sorry.”

Bucky sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me.” Y/N said, pulling back from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. 

“I believe I already do that, Doll.” He smirked then leaned into kiss her cheek too.

Suddenly, Bucky jerked back a bit and immediately went to his back pocket and he pulled out his phone. 

“It’s Sam.” He clicked the answer button then held it up to his ear. “Yeah, Sam?” 

Sitting next to him, Y/N made out some of what was being said, but not all of it. All she could gauge from the conversation was what Bucky said aloud. 

“I’m with her right now. She’s okay now, why?” 

He paused for a moment before pulling the phone away from his ear. “He said he wants to talk to you, are you okay with that?”

“Yeah.” Y/N took the phone from his hand and held it up. “Sam?”

“Y/N, I just want to say I’m sorry for being like that. I am a little tipsy, and I know I can be a bit much when I’m tipsy so I’m really sorry.” 

Y/N managed to smile. “It’s okay, Sam. And I’m sorry for yelling at you, I wasn’t really mad at you, it's just I let some…personal stuff get to me and I took it out on you.”

“No, it’s alright. I was being pushy, so next I promise I’ll tone it down.”

“Thanks, Sam. I appreciate that. Have a good night.” As soon as she heard him say good night, she handed the phone back to Bucky. He quickly said his goodbye then hung up. 

After he put his phone into his pocket, he looked to Y/N. “What do you say to some Chinese food and a movie back home?” 

“I’d like that.” She eagerly agreed, her once saddened expression turned delighted. 

“Alrighty then.” Bucky breathed, clapping his hands together briefly like he was gathering his thoughts before getting up off the ground. He held his hand out to Y/N who took it without hesitation, letting him pull her up from the floor. 

When she got to her feet, Bucky pulled her against his chest, eyes staring lovingly down at her. “You ready?” 

“I’m ready.” 

He pecked her lips, taking pride in her slightly embarrassed expression coupled with a bashful grin. 

Bucky grabbed a hold of her hand, intertwining their fingers together and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

Y/N did the same, giggling when he looked back at her while heading back inside the building. The entire time, from the base to the Chinese restaurant to their apartment, Y/N’s mind kept returning to the moment she panicked to the moment Bucky found her and helped her. 

That always happened whenever the shit hit the fan, however, she realized this had been the first time she had someone to tell about what was going on inside her head. He was the first person to listen and not get upset because she admitted what was bothering her. 

She couldn’t tell her family about this problem because they were the problem, so she kept it inside. 

Having Bucky by her side reminded her that she didn’t have to live life alone, stuck in her head, but instead could work through these problems without being judged. 

For that, she was grateful. Unyieldingly grateful.

a/n: If you’re reading this, thanks for making it all the way through. Sorry if this was a convoluted mess, things were really tough for me yesterday and it’s kind of difficult to explain and kinda makes no sense, but writing in this form helps a little. Regardless, hope you guys are having a good day. Looking forward to finishing the next chapter for “A Past Encounter,” so keep an eye out for that. 

[pineappleparfaitie]

Saw all of this go down after the fact and it pains me to see so many people treating this whole situation as "drama" as if they want it swept under the rug as soon as possible. It doesn't surprise me as someone who's been in this community for a while and has seen this sort of thing happen before. But that doesn't excuse the fact that this is totally disrespectful to you and it completely undermines the gross treatment that you had to endure. You didn't deserve any of this. Absolutely no one does. And I wish the community would go out of their way to protect their own, or at the very least hear your voice, especially after you've explained everything in clear detail. I'll admit I did like a post from one of these bigger creators before looking at what happened, but as soon as I learned what about what was going on, I realized my mistake. And I apologize for that. The audacity of these folks with big followings to tell people to ignore this only adds salt to the wound, whether it was intended or not. And I can't really forgive them for that, knowing now what you've been through. Lumping this under drama is utter bs, and you should be treated with the respect that you rightfully deserve as a human being.

I really feel bad for what you are going through right now. And I'm mad at a lot of folks for treating you like crap too. I sincerely hope that you will find healing from all of this. And please take a break if you feel like you need to. Mad respect to the wonderful folks who support you, they are the real ones here.

You have my full support, too. Please, hang in there. Signed, an artist you've probably seen before.

Whoever you are thank you. I am upset about it too I regret putting stuff in sfw vore tags cause it hurt people and it was MY OWN FAULT this became drama . AGAIN had I not put shit in sfw tags this probably would have been taken better.1 post and it all went to shit. Im only hoping now I can clear up this stuff properly and give a full story on my own end to just. Say it all. Again thank you so much whoever you are im so grateful for the support please send some support to Zet (Opikarts) as well the guy got fucking manipulated and taken advantage of and it caused shit to get worse. Thank you,again.

[jwirecs]

Recommended BTS Fics of December 💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of december! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Cherries || @j4goh​​​ 🔞✅

↳ jungkook as your many firsts, including the first one to make you cum in seconds.

First Kiss || @starsin-youreyes​​💕✅

↳ "we should really never do this again unless you want me to be completely head over heels for you."

Glitch || @koostarcandy​​💕✅

↳ a slight malfunction in your brain led to one of your greatest life choices.

Muse || @jvngkook97-blog​💕✅

↳ in which Jungkook is a contestant on a reality show for top artists in the nation and he asks you to partake in a FaceTime interview at the last second. 

Main Story -> Art Of The Soul

On Mute || @yoon-kooks​ 🔞💕✅💯

↳ You always assumed your handsome coworker was down to fuck anyone in the office except for you. He always assumed you weren’t interested in a guy like him. And both of you were content with never admitting your feelings… until he unknowingly confides in you in the realms of a certain tactical FPS game.

Choices || @jjngkook7​​💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ Jungkook finally found her. His mate. His lifelong partner. But she's a human. Does he have to stay with her or can he stick it to whatever and whoever binds mates together and make his own decision?

Come Sail Away || @the-boy-meets-evil​​ 🔞💕💔✅

↳ kim seokjin is the captain of a sailing team bound for one of the biggest regattas around. only one problem: that team also includes taehyung, who's incredibly accident prone. will he let you save the day despite your history?

Riding Fake || @ugh-yoongi​​💕💔✅

↳ (or, the one where you think you’re getting a fake boyfriend, but you end up with a whole lot more.)

Sweetener || @taegularities​ 🔞💕✅

↳ you used to know how he sounded when you were wrapped around him, but circumstances have pulled you apart and sent you scattering in opposite directions. Feelings shouldn’t reappear so easily by simple words, but when you find yourselves in the same place once again, this is exactly what happens.

Darksided || @eoieopda​​​🔞💕✅💯

↳ Min Yoongi adored you. He’d simply never hurt you - unless you asked.

Don’t Argue || @yoongiofmine​​ 🔞💕✅💯

↳ After almost six years together, Yoongi asked you to move in with him. You’re done packing your whole apartment for the move, and he shows up to make sure your last night at your old place is special.

Run || @idekhowtodothis​​​🔞💕✅

↳ Jungkookk doesnt want you to leave him for some stupid karaoke party so he tries his best to make you stay. Although his intentions start out playful, they quickly grow corrupted, especially after your somewhat hurtful words

Very Familiar || @champagneher​​💕✅

↳ being jin’s girlfriend brings good moments with the members as well.

Wax On || @monimonimoon​​​💕✅

↳ Your waxer cancelled on you last minute and there was no one else available. Your boyfriend volunteers and, against all your better judgement, you let him do it.

Bunny Adventures || @kooktrash​​ 🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ you had absolutely no intentions of ever owning a hybrid until jungkook came along. a mistreated, misunderstood rabbit hybrid who’d only ever wanted was to be treated like an equal.

Changing Times || @moonlightkoo💕💔🔄💯💯💯

↳ In which Jeon Jungkook has been sentenced for community service at a hybrid rehabilitation center- and what began as a simple punishment for his petty crimes, ends with life lessons he will probably never forget.

This Could Be Home || @bangtanflirt​​💕💔🔄

↳ As a purebred adopted by a high class family, some would think Jungkook had it all–but the pain behind the facade inevitably catches up to him. It’s only when you and Hoseok enter his life does he (gradually) allow himself to feel happiness again.

Guilty || @xjoonchildx​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

Ride Or Die || @btsmosphere​​💕💔🔄

↳ yoongi isn’t sure when he became so accustomed to your ineffably cheery presence. until he sees that innocence crack, he hadn’t realised how far he would go to keep it there.

Touch || @intplayboy​​​💕💔🔄💯

↳ you have finally escaped the filthy jail you were made to grow up in as a guinea pig. on your way out, you bump into two members of south korea's most infamous mafia gang. stunned by the rather intriguing encounter with you, the younger one decides to bring you back to their home base in secret, only to have their plan foiled when the rest of the gang catches them red handed and the entire group unanimously decides what to do with the strange girl, which is you.

Fighting Heart || @kooktrash​​ 🔞💕💔✅

↳ never living a life of luxury, Jungkook does what he has to do to make ends-meet. right now that means fighting in underground clubs, getting beat black and blue until he wins. he knows there’s a better life out there for him but he never let himself think about it. until you came along and suddenly a weight is being lifted off his shoulders letting you through his guarded walls. you’re everything he needed and you make him want to fight for more.

Mate || @7deadlysinsfics​💕💔🔄💯

↳ Jungkook knew in his soul from the moment your eyes met his in the forest that you were his mate, that he was meant to protect you at any cost. You’d been through hell while escaping a place that had treated you horribly since your childhood, and it was strange how calm you felt in his presence when you found yourself in an unfamiliar place with a stranger. Something inside of you told you to trust him.

Not So Bossy || @jungkookschin​💕💔✅

↳ An irksome feeling infests Jungkook's system when his girlfriend lets him know that she can't meet up after not seeing him for three weeks.

Schlimazel || @intplayboy​​💕💔🔄💯

↳ [ schlimazel - a consistently unlucky person. ] you surely did not imagine encountering the individuals you admire most while beaten and bruised. yet, it ironically became the beginning of an unforeseen and beautiful friendship that unknowingly evolved beyond that.

Silver Sugar || @moonlightkoo ​💕💔🔄💯

↳ He's heavy boots, silver chains, piercings and ink, while you are pastel colors, soft clothes and shy smiles. There's no way he's interested in you. He's just being nice. Right?

Already Mine || @i-am-baechu​​​ 🔞💕💔✅💯💯

↳ “I do.” Two simple words that changed her whole world. The man that gave her love that she never had before and a child that looked just like him with her eyes, a story for the ages. It wasn’t until the mornings changed and the warmth he once had turned cold. Nothing made sense but at the same time everything did. All she wanted was him but maybe that's not what he wants...

Cinnamon Bliss || @yoonia​🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ Ever since the day he walked through the front door of your cafe hand in hand with his sweet daughter on one gloomy afternoon in the middle of winter, he had captured your heart without him even knowing it. All the time, you had chosen to stay on the sidelines, watching him mend his broken heart in silence while he teaches his own daughter that it was okay to be a kid despite the pain that they shared. You know you shouldn’t be so infatuated with him or let this feeling go any deeper. Because nothing could prepare you when you are forced to watch him move on, completely unaware that he is about to be breaking your heart into pieces.

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus || @daydreamer-writing​​​​💕✅

↳ Yoongi didn't know what to do with kids. Especially not with 3-year old Jungkook, but his Seokjin Hyung asked him to babysit, so who is he to refuse. Yoongi still didn't know what to do with kids, especially not with Jungkook, who just told him that he witnessed his mom kissing Santa Claus.

Take On The World || @sweetestofchaos​​​💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ When the Min pack go to Vegas the last thing they expect is for their Pack Omega to imprint on…a child! Join the guys as they travel along the path of parenting with all it’s highs and lows.

The Line Between Love and War || @purpleyoonn​​🔞💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ Your experiences told you that soulmates were something you would never have the pleasure of having; something not given to you because of who you are, despite the soulmark that resides on your inner left wrist. During your solo trip to Los Angeles, you find out that you are more than capable, that your soulmates had been waiting for you for a long time, and would not be letting you go anytime soon.

Hoseok!Au - College Au || @notevenagoodgirl​​​​​💕💔✅

↳ An AU where Hoseok and Y/N don’t really get along even though they’re in the same group of friends. What happens when shitty roommates and monthly bills bring them closer than ever?

I Fell In Love With A Girl Group Stan || @i-am-baechu​​​​🔞💕💔✅

↳ Going to a BTS concert with her best friend was an anxiety attack waiting to happen because she only knew a handful of their songs and felt like an intruder but she didn’t want her to go alone. She made two mistakes. Number one, not changing her lockscreen from Irene to something else and number two, wearing a Red Velvet lanyard. When her friend wins a raffle to meet them, everything changes for her and the youngest member; especially when her alarm starts playing Bad Boy in the middle of her sentence.

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

[lightdancer1]

One of the big reasons I think that it's always a bit of a bad thing to forget the Endless really aren't human:

Is because, and I admit here that this is from the POV of someone who does most, if not quite all, of my fanfics from a Death-centric perspective flip both because Gaiman did Dream well and like prequel Anakin there is only so much man pain and mangst I can take before wanting to reach through the screen and strangle the son of a bitch. Disliking Dream as a wangsty jackass who is the architect of almost all of his own problems does not mean being blind to how dysfunctional the Endless as a whole are.

Yet at the end of the day Dream is not your pantsfeels, he's the in-universe true architect of fear and maker of all nightmares, the guy who casually sends a woman to Hell because she told him no. He is inhuman and fickle and dangerous for any mortals that cross his path.......and as a being of story he is also bound by story-logic to pursue the path that makes the better story at the expense of multiple logical and even emotional reactions.

And in terms of this Dream is not really so different to the rest of the family. Even Destruction, when he walks off, very much remains an Endless and is still Destruction. He doesn't become human, he doesn't give up his powers and he goes into a long rambling set of justifications on that and believing simultaneously that the Endless interfere too much in human affairs and turns his group of friends into a minefield to ensure he stays hidden. Destruction, in short, is a flaming hypocrite at best and should not be taken as the reliable one true truth. None of the Seven Endless are that.

So what does all this have to do with Death? Simple. She will outlive the universe and Death of the Endless will be a title and a moment in time. Unlike any of the others she did outright completely quit and walked out and where Dream's captivity and Destruction's hippie moment didn't cause immediate unraveling of reality as opposed to the realm Death did. She is unlike the other six in ways that would and do contribute to why there's so much talking past each other.

The other six, even Destruction, all see their natures as intertwined with their functions, spheres, and all that go with them. Every hundred years for a day Death gives up all that power and becomes fully, truly mortal. She takes the step none of the others can bring themselves to do, and in spite of being the one that outlives the universe, she has died the most of all her kin and the DCU being what it is probably more than a few of those deaths were not pleasant ones. And this is without the equally logical assumption based on Overture that we only see the Earth mortal day, that there were and are such days on all worlds, in all forms of life.

And as I've brought this up before, too, Death's little apartment is not her realm. The realm is only glimpsed partially once, in her second miniseries and it looks every bit as dark as a realm called 'sunless lands' would. With the exception of Destruction all the other realms are seen in detail and not just a partial glimpse. Death has that detachment from that realm, which is as much a part of her as she of it.

In short, unlike the rest of her siblings I think Death is if anything in the comics the least truly focused on duty and much as I consider the 'none of them came for me' to be a good example of Dream's self-serving hypocrisy as he'd hate and scorn and react violently to anyone that actually did and Gaiman is repeatedly on record as noting that, I see the 'our purpose is our function' line as a bit of self-serving hypocrisy in the interest of cheering up her brother. Death couldn't and doesn't take dealing with her function or being an Endless well. She walked out, she keeps trying to turn herself mortal, she will one day continue to exist but no longer be an Endless.

Thus in the end, there is a great irony here. Dream is too rigidly bound by duty to ever truly entertain the idea that he could leave and figure out how to do so short of dying. Death is too frantically eager to discard her Endless status to figure out why anyone would, given the choice, choose to remain one even if it hurts them.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Don't You Forget About Me

Part Two

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Description: Jake's had to live with a lot of incredibly annoying people over his life. But of all of them, he's never been as frustrated by anyone the way he has been frustrated by one Bradley Bradshaw. Rooster may be a textbook perfect pilot but he hesitates too much. Tell someone they'll never get anywhere once and get your head bitten off? Sure. But at the same time, Jake can't help remembering the one person who had inspired him to dream of the sky. That Bradley, wherever he is, had better be proud. Because Jake is. This Bradley, no matter how sexy and alluring with his damned pornstache and effortlessly tousled curls had better watch out. His callsign is Hangman for one particular reason, after all. Everything comes to a head after the Uranium Mission. Maybe Jake's Bradley from Texas is closer than he thinks? Disclaimer: This is a Hangster story -> What you see is what you get, folks. Slight mention of homophobic/ lgbtq+ phobic family members. Word Count: 2755 Author's Note: Hiya! I wrote this fic for @roosterforme's Top Gun Rocktober Event based on the song Don't You Forget About Me by the Simple Minds. Here's part two. I hope you all like it! Part two happens after the Uranium Mission and is in Jake's POV.

It's been a long road, getting to where I am right now. Years of sweat and blood and tears. Years of ignoring my uncle's insistent demands for money, years of sporadic contact with Mom. But I don't regret one bit of the pain or sorrow of the past decade. I can't imagine what my life would have been like if I hadn't met Bradley at the party all those years ago. Hell, I probably would've been working on some ranch in Texas, still under my uncle's thumbs and miserable to boot.

I can still remember the smile on his face and how gentle he'd been with me. I mean, don't tell Phoenix or anything, but I haven't always looked this good. There was a time when I weighed about ninety pounds soaking wet. I was gangly limbed - all the grace of a newborn colt with none of the dexterity. The only thing I knew I wanted for the future was to stay with my boyfriend. That went over well, didn't it? Especially considering how monumentally that relationship crashed and burned.

It's weird, attributing so many of the biggest accomplishments in my life to one person, especially someone that I knew for only a night over a decade ago.  His words, his opinions, I remember them like I’m still sitting in the passenger seat of his car. But I barely remember his face or what he was wearing. The attraction? That I still remember. I remember that all too well, one could say. I’ve never felt like that with another man before him. Even the fact that he’d called me ‘kid’ hadn’t seemed to matter, not when my hand was in his and when I was transfixed by the heat in his whiskeyed gaze. It’s no wonder that whiskey is one of my favorite drinks, not when each sip makes me remember his eyes.

There’s only been one other person in the past twelve years that has made me feel the same way that Bradley did. Even his first name is the same, and his eyes. But he’s never once looked at me like he remembers me. So he can’t be the boy who changed my life. Then there’s the fact that until not too long ago, I couldn’t stand him either. Him and I, we’ve always been like oil and water. Bradshaw was the responsible person. The guy COs loved to fawn over because he flew by the book without ever deviating from it. I’m the renegade, the maverick - the guy you send in to get shit done no matter what. He was the asshole who everybody liked and who wouldn’t get off of the perch his namesakes loved to sit on. 

But even I can admit that things have changed over the past few weeks. I’m a part of a team, for one. Not just a lone ranger doing their own thing. I’m actually a part of this squadron. Standing in the Hard Deck after what has to be the hardest mission of my whole career, I feel better than I ever have. Let me make it clear. I was the auxiliary on the mission. A part of me is still not over that fact. I understand it now, but call it my ego or my need to succeed or whatever you want, it still stings. Maverick saw my performance up in the air, he saw how I flew and he still found me lacking.

But I was the man everyone could count on. The guy who made sure everyone came home. But why is the true hero of the mission, the man who made the one-in-a-million shot, sans laser sight, during the mission, nowhere to be seen?  Phoenix is doing shots with Bob. Payback and Fanboy are poorly serenading some unsuspecting girls on the other end of the bar to the song pouring out of the jukebox. But where is Rooster?

There must be something wrong because he hasn’t unplugged the jukebox even once and led the bar into an easy rendition of some Jerry Lee Lewis throwback from a century ago. I haven’t spent a single night at the Hard Deck out with him where he hasn’t rounded the night out with a surprisingly tuneful albeit drunken rendition. Between me and whoever else hears my mental dialogue, it should be illegal for someone to sound that good while drunk. The bar is packed, but well, you’d think finding a six-foot-tall man would be far easier than you think. But even as I order two beers from Jimmy at the bar, I don’t see Rooster Bradshaw anywhere. At least that is, until I’m in the corner of the bar near the pool tables.

He’s sitting on the deck out back, looking out over the placid ocean. It’s honestly a relief to escape the hoppy stale air and the insistent crowd the minute I open the doors. If I have to tell the story of my dashing rescue mission, complete with “Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman, this is your savior speaking.”, I might just scream. My throat is sore and I wish that the news of my derring do’s hadn’t passed around base the moment the carrier docked. 

But all of my thoughts fly out of my mind the minute I see his face. He looks good, it wasn’t exactly a secret that first night back in San Diego that I thought that. I’ve always thought he looked way too good to be true. But tonight, even I can admit that Bradley Bradshaw has looked better. There are dark bruises rising up across his chest, his arm is in a sling and as a whole he looks like he’d be better suited to curling up in bed than sitting out on the beach outside of a bar. Should he even be drinking with the potent meds I’m sure the doctors gave him? I’m kind of afraid to ask, so instead I sit down near him and hand him one of the beers. I rub the condensation away on my jeans and truly, I don’t know what to say.

A part of me knows that I should ask if he’s okay, but instead I ask, quietly, my voice barely audible over the rushing ocean tide, “Why did you do it?”

“Do what, Bagman?” He’s slurring his words, exhaustion evident in every pore. When he picked up a bruise on his cheek, I have no idea.

“Why did you go back?” I don’t know why of all the questions I have for Bradley Bradshaw after over a decade competing with him, it was this one that I chose to ask.

He looks confused for far too long before he rasps out, “I had to. Mav’s the only family I have left.”

His earnest, easy acceptance and love for our Captain leaks from every word. The look on his face, too, is unspeakably familiar. I can’t help wondering if maybe I have met Bradley Bradshaw before. But when? How? I don’t think we’ve actually talked to each other, not once since the day we met. It’s been friction, just glorious dizzying friction since that day. He pushes me to be better, even when he’s acting like I’m not worth the space I inhabit.

Tonight, though, Bradley Bradshaw makes me feel different. It’s probably just the exhaustion on his face as he sips lacklusterly on the beer in his hands. But I feel younger and older all at once. In the glint of the moon, his eyes flash golden.

“Why’d you do it, Jake?” I wasn’t expecting that question. Not at all. 

“I…” If he notices how my throat works as I try to string my disparate thoughts together, he doesn’t call any attention to it. I feel transfixed under the liquid amber of his gaze. “I had to.”

“Mav said we all had to come home. All of us meant you and him too. I’ve lost a wingman already. I’m not ready to lose anymore.”

I busy myself shredding the sodden label of the beer in my hands. It’s mostly full still, my mouth too dry and throat too tight to swallow any of the liquid. My head’s spinning too, caught in his gaze.

“Huh…” His chuckle makes my cheeks warm. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I didn’t either.” For several moments, it’s quiet outside. Then someone props the back door open and I can hear some of the music pouring out of the jukebox. 

Don't you try and pretend

It's my feeling we'll win in the end

I won't harm you or touch your defenses

Vanity and security, ah

Don't you forget about me

“Why’d you join the Navy, Hangman?” My eyes open at the unexpected question. I guess they’d closed when I listened to the song on the juke.

“I figure I might as well ask.” He shrugs, just the one shoulder, gesturing with his bottle to get me to spit the words on the tip of my tongue out.

“I met someone going to Officer Candidate School when I was seventeen in Austin. He was different … nice. I’ve never been called a kid more affectionately. He told me about the Navy, and well, there was nothing better waiting for me. So I joined up right after I graduated.” Nostalgia colors my tone as I think back to how different I was back then. “I think this song was playing on the radio actually.”

What I don’t expect to hear is laughter. Pained, overloud, sudden, jarring laughter. I turn my head and like I expected, it’s coming from Bradley Bradshaw. It rankles a little having someone laugh at something I’ve never told anyone else.

“What?!” If I sound like I’m snarling, well I’m sure it’s my prerogative.

“God you always were a little shit, huh?” The naked fondness is more than a little surprising. 

“What do you mean?” I’m pouting and grumbling, I know. My beer’s sitting on the decking and I have no idea where I should look. If I look into his smug face, I’m going to say something I know I’ll regret. 

“You ran into me that night, if I remember correctly. Called me an asshole and everything." This can't be happening. There is no way this is happening. My Bradley, the kind, supportive one, can't be Chicken Bradshaw. That's not possible. Please don't tell me I've spent the better part of a decade trying to antagonize the one person who convinced me that there was something better for me than being my uncle's whipping boy.

"I definitely did not." 

"You were about ninety pounds soaking wet. Sure, you look different, but that particular rage in your eyes? I've only ever seen it on one other person." He licks his lips, but while I should be focusing on what he's saying, I can't help noticing how chapped they are and how incredibly soft they look.

I'm frozen, paralyzed. Until a hand nudges my own. I'm not sure why I do it, but I put my hand in Rooster's. His hands feel the same as they did all that time ago. Big, just a little bigger than my own, the long fingers calloused but gentle and warm as they clasp mine.

"I know I'm probably not who you thought you wanted to thank." Is that self-deprecation in Rooster Bradshaw's tone? No way. He just saved the entire world as we know it.

"Who says, Roo?" It's gratifying to see the pink on the apples of his cheeks. This close it feels like there are whole galaxies in his eyes and I feel this sudden sense of deja vu.

In Austin, all those years ago, as we were talking high above the city in Bradley's vintage Bronco, all I wanted to do was sink into his lap and kiss him until all he knew was me. I thought I'd outgrown that particular fascination with the stars in his eyes and the scars trailing down the side of his face. Obviously not. 

A lot has changed in the decade between that night and this one. I'm still incredibly handsome, obviously, but muscular and fit, no longer emaciated and malnourished. Bradley's even broader and stronger than he was before - beefy is the only term I can use. And DADT, that one governing guideline for all non-heterosexual people in the military is dust in the wind.

But more than what I want, which is to croon 'Roo' into his ear as he rails me until I can't feel anything below my waist, I have to consider whether he wants me, too. It wouldn't be the first time that I'm too much for somebody. It probably won't be the last time either. 

"Hangman? Jake? JAKE!" I blink, sure I'm blushing because I think I just zoned out looking at his lips.

"You okay?" 

I nod, smiling just a little. He's close, incredibly, impossibly close to me.

"Jake. Tell me if I'm reading this wrong, but I really want to kiss you." His raspy voice sends shivers down my spine.

But I know he's not feeling his best, so I take control. His hair feels like silk at my fingertips as I peck his lips, once, twice, and finally a third time. It feels way too good, how even those simple kisses make me feel giddy in a way I've never felt before.

I cradle his face gently in between my palms, levering my body onto his lap until I'm straddling his waist.

"You look good, Bradshaw." His chuckle makes me smile, something real. Something soft and new.

"I am good, Seresin. Too good to be true." I kiss him again, relishing in the prickle of his mustache against my lips and cheeks. This new angle also lets me look, really look at Roo. There are dark smudges under his eyes, bruise-like in their intensity.

"Roo," My voice is gentle as I pepper kisses against his jaw. "How long has it been since you've slept, baby?"

His nose wrinkles. "I haven't really slept since before we left."

"Let me take you home, then, sweetheart?" His eyes darken at my words, but I stop him with a soft chuckle. "Not to do that. Though I do want to. You look as exhausted as I feel. I just want to see you sleep, darlin'. Okay?"

His nod is a little dazed, but he doesn't argue when I grab the beer bottles and slip back in to drop them off back at the bar. I get accosted on my way back out to Roo by the one person who would be perceptive enough to notice the two of us out there.

"Hey, Hangman." I blink, more than a little surprised at the surprisingly strong arm barring my way.

"What can I do for you, Bobby Boy?" 

He pushes his glasses up and says in a serious tone, "The two of you are good together. Take care of him, yeah?"

Now I really must've entered the twilight zone. I've got everything I've ever wanted and the one person who probably should disapprove of everything I do just told me to take care of Roo. But I can't help the giddy grin on my face. Rooster's still right where I left him, watching the few sparse clouds sail past the moon.

"Take me home, Seresin." I don't think I could stop smiling if I tried. He's said my last name so many times, in so many ways, but it's never been so fondly.

"You got it, Bradshaw." His hand is warm and secure in mine as I get him into the passenger seat of my pickup.

By the time I pull into my parking spot on base, Roo's nearly half-asleep. Sleep's tugging at me too, but I manage to keep it at bay until I have him in a pair of my flannel pajama pants, curled up comfortably under the sheets of my bed.

I lie down and face him, tracing each dip and strong line of his face with my eyes as I finally start to fall asleep after the mission.

"Hey, Jake?" I hum lightly, too tired to say anything more.

"Don't you forget about me, okay?"

"I'll be calling your name, Roo. I couldn't forget you if I tried." It's true. I never would've expected one of the worst nights of my life to lead to the one person who has always known what I needed. Now it's my turn to make sure he has what he needs.

Taglist:

@chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @mayhemmanaged @desert-fern @cassiemitchell @dakotakazansky @roosterforme @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @sarahsmi13s @horseshoegirl

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[yamcha-thelonewolf]

How would you feel if Toriyama made Yamcha a fighter again and was actually stronger this time? I'll always be thinking how when he smacked Beerus in the back he made a face. What if he wasn't taken just by surprise that he did it but by the power behind it?

Like what if Toriyama did Yamcha dirty and decided he's not strong unless he does not want to fight?

Good question. Yamcha is still a fighter, for me. He never really gave up, even though what DBS showed us seems to say otherwise. I can't accept the fact that he threw in the towel, that was never like him. Yamcha always shows to us, in his own way, that he still has a passion for martial arts. Get it? Martial arts. That thing that long ago in Dragon Ball was the leitmotif of the whole story.

However, I don't think Yamcha has really stopped believing in his potential. It is virtually impossible to do so after reaching such a power level that makes him literally one of the strongest human beings in the world. Plus if we consider the fact that, between him, Tien and Kuririn, Yamcha's features are the most "normal" (he's got a nose and only two eyes) we can also safely say that Yamcha is the strongest human being in the world.

Okay, this is a bit of nonsense that I sometimes like to bring up.... But think about it, it might as well be so if we have to be really precise.

«JUST LOOK HOW SERIOUS HUMAN MY FACE IS!»

So, I would just be happy if his warrior attitude, that was never really buried, was put on display again. Even a little sentence, a hint, a tiny scene where he is seen fighting or training with one of his friends... That would be enough for me.

Yeah, something like that... Dragon Buddies.

For example, I am so glad that he made his return in Moro Arc as a Z-Fighter; I would like to see the animated version of his moment. Unfortunately, I think this is not the beginning of his rebirth. I have always thought that Yamcha's only enemy is Yamcha himself, and partly so, but the truth is that the real villain of his story is Akira Toriyama himself. It pains me to admit it, but it is so. I can't understand why he is pandering so much to the idiocy of the DB fandom making fun of Yamcha.

Yamcha laughing at memes about Yamcha knowing that he could destroy everyone with one finger.

The hell, even in Majin Buu Arc he was amazing. All right, I know, they're fillers, but you want me to be honest? The fillers took better care of him than the canon episodes and the manga. I mean, at the beginning he was presented to us as a 40-year-old man who had now given up martial arts for good, wearing a banana yellow suit, expensive and sadly unsuitable for battles. He just doesn't seem to want to hear about it. But then, after several episodes of him goofing off or being a fanboy in the stands, like everyone else Yamcha dies, and it is in the afterlife that his will to fight is reawakened after so long. As it was with King Kai before. For those who have followed him from the beginning of Dragon Ball, to be able to see Yamcha again happy, excited and strong, with his uniform on like the old days, is a joy to behold.

Relative joy.

Guys, I can't accept the fact that Yamcha has to be dead to feel even more alive, or even worse that his existence depends only on fillers. Yes, I know, it's still better than nothing, though...

Another good job was also done by the OVA Dragon Ball: The Return of Son Goku and Friends!, probably the last work that remembers that Yamcha also exists and especially treats him as a very valuable fighter. I'll talk about it.

This moment is still one of my favorite. It is one of the most badass things about Yamcha, plus it reminds me so much of a scene where Tarzan does the same...

Look! On one side we have the ape man (no, not a saiyan), on the other side the wolf man... Damn, I love it! Well, maybe I'm digressing, but it is curious to notice how the act of undressing is cathartic for both characters. They both strip off a garment that does not really belong to them and wildly bring out their true nature, their animal instincts, but most of all their desire to protect those they love. That's Yamcha. After all, who says Yamcha has to save the world to redeem himself as a character? He can also do so by protecting someone. That is something he can do very well, and I will prove it to you. Anyway, I sincerely hope that his role in the world of Dragon Ball will also be recognized in DBS. I also hope he can use again even his sword, but unfortunately he became a meme and, apart from the Moro Arc, we only saw him slaughtered and humiliated even by his own friends. This is the saddest thing that could have happened, also because in OG Dragon Ball it would NEVER have happened. There is no more demeaning thing than seeing Goku completely ignore one of his close friends, one of the first, and treat him as if he were worth less than zero. Seriously... WTF?! The Goku I love would never have done that.

Alright, that's the real Goku! Thank you!

I mean, maybe Goku wouldn't have invited him to the Tournament anyway, but at least he would have stopped in front of him to say a few comfortably words. As he once did.

Because, you know, that's what you do with friends and those who have been there for you in the good and in the worst of times. Let us remember that Yamcha took care of Goku together with Chichi when the virus struck him in the heart...

Well, I try hard to think that this is all a joke, though I doubt it. I strive to think that the whole attitude that the characters have had in DBS toward Yamcha is just the result of a studied plan to piss him off and spur him to undress again and howl like he used to. But... I know it's not.

Therefore, even though Moro Arc slightly brought our Z warrior back to the forefront and confirmed that Yamcha is still very strong, I still do not consider myself satisfied. What I would like more than anything else is just a confrontation between him and the protagonist, Goku, in which the saiyan helps him believe in himself again. And if it is not Goku, someone else is fine as long as Yamcha is reconsidered with dignity.

I don't think I'm asking for that much. Goku has helped so many people, dinosaurs, mice, monkeys, strangers he has met only once in his life, even bad guys... So why not help the first character who consciously believed in his abilities?

...Guess I have started a new topic. I will definitely talk about the relationship between Yamcha and Goku as soon as I can. Being the main character, a positive assessment of Yamcha by Goku could change the current idea of this character and make him much stronger as a result. I mean, Goku is the Mr. Satan of the real world. What he says is the truth, so it is only up to him to make sure that Yamcha can come back stronger than before.

Thanks for asking! 💕

[kamenriderliveblog]

Guess what's ready for digital order! It's @ultra-zine!!!

Okay look I know that my very first post said that I wasn't a figure person. That has obviously changed and I have officially fallen into the SH Figuarts rabbit hole. I preordered Blazar plus I want to get Zero and all of Z's forms. Send help, lmao

Full disclosure: I did contribute something to this zine, which is one reason why I haven't done many liveblogs lately. (I'm still a little emotional about seeing something I've written in print.) I wrote Chill Out, It's Snow Problem, though that was before I saw the dub for Z. Watching that notably changed how I write Z's verbal tics.

I had a hard time with this story because my first draft was like 4500 words. I had to cut out a lot and that was a painful experience! Granted, for me editing is always a painful process, but I'm of the opinion that if it doesn't hurt in one way or another, I'm not editing enough. I'll probably toss up the longer version on AO3 eventually though. It actually really, really hurt to cut as much as I did and I want those parts to see the light of day in one way or another.

There were some scenes that I wanted to write but didn't even make it into the first draft. There was originally going to be a scene with Z taking control of Haruki's body with his permission and skating at an ice rink because my headcanon is that Z would be really good at it. Yes, that scene from episode 7 has been living rent-free in my head for way too long. I also thought Z skating in Haruki's body would be a fun scene for the artist (in this case the amazing @chacerider, though I didn't know that at the time) to use for the illustration if they wanted. Beliarok was going to appear too, but I couldn't think of a way to get him in there in a way that I was happy with.

Originally the story started in Haruki's apartment before going to STORAGE, which actually did make it into the first draft. I had to choose between scrapping that whole intro or paring down the emotional beats that came later. The choice was obvious. Oh yeah and I had Haruki nearly get hit by a truck in the first draft. Fun! Still had to cut it, though.

Haruki and Z being able to tell how the other is feeling or emotions bleeding from one to the other isn't exactly something that happens in canon, I know. It's pretty much me taking the idea of Haruki's emotional state having a big effect on Z in episode 12 and then dialing it up to 11. I like the idea of there being side effects (for lack of a better word) to merging, and I wanted to explore how the friendship between Z and Haruki might develop if there was a lot more unintentional emotional openness. I'll also fully admit that I stole some things from Geed. Leito and Zero's conversations when they're out and around regular people was the big one, and while Z does take control of Haruki's body in episode 7 for a second, I was really more thinking of Geed's early episodes and how Zero would take control of Leito's body basically whenever he felt he needed to.

If you made it to the end, thanks! The link to read my story on AO3 is below. If you didn't manage to grab a physical edition of the zine, you can get a digital version of it and the previous volumes here!