#like no oh my god the baby will be fine. People new to their craft will be fine

[tubbytarchia]

I just saw a few "beginner artist" animations and posts that had gained some traction and their comment sections actually made me pretty seethingly upset.

"Experienced" artists really just jump on "beginner" artists to tell them all the 2 to 5 to 50 things that they can do better. All under the guise of "I'm just tryna help" and coated with "you have potential!". Well I am also a fellow artist and that is so haughty and discouraging to me. Some artists need to get off their hyper realistic objectively superior anatomically correct high horses and give the goofy newbie ones some fucking room to breathe. Leave beginner artists alone, a tip or two is fine but they do not need 20 people correcting all their "mistakes" and giving tips and criticism where it was never asked for. I genuinely feel so bad for these beginning artists who put in effort to create something, and that's the foremost beauty of art, only to get jumped like prey by all these other artists who fail to appreciate the very core of what they claim to teach. If you do that, THEY DON'T NEED YOU to grow as artists, and that's assuming you even wanted to help and not just having a superiority complex

[film-in-my-soul]

tremor | 1,730 | badacts / @badacts

Summary: “Do I need to take you to the emergency room?” Andrew asks, feeling his eyebrows creep up.

a way (the find one/make one remix) | 2,561 | badacts

Summary: Neil dies. Andrew does deals with gods so he can drag him back.

(see more recommendations below!)

here | 1,191 | mostly_maudlin / @mostlymaudlin

Summary: It takes about a year for Neil to find the pattern, and once he does, he wonders how he didn’t notice it sooner.

brie my baby | 1,530 | moonix / @annawrites

Summary: Neil posts a Craigslist ad looking for someone to go on a date with, just to find out what it's like. Andrew plans to give it his best shot and ends up getting thoroughly romanced himself.

when the lights go out | 1,705 | flybbfly / @wilsherejack

Summary: Neil wakes up gasping in a bed next to Andrew, unsure if in this lifetime they love or hate each other, are meant to murder or save, and Andrew rolls over and presses closer to Neil in his sleep. His armbands, some form of them omnipresent in every lifetime, are poking out from beneath a pillow.

True Crime | 1,789 | mostly_maudlin / @mostlymaudlin

Summary: All Andrew needed was the WiFi password.

Bookstore Break-In | 1,833 | takitalks

Summary: Andrew's minding his own business, lurking after hours in his bookstore when Neil Josten breaks in and upends his peaceful evening.

worth it | 1,960 | mostly_maudlin / @mostlymaudlin

Summary: “What makes you think I want you fighting on my behalf?” Andrew asks. Neil pulls the ice pack from his face, features tightening with a new spark of anger. “What makes you think I care if you want me to?” he asks. “It’s my choice. And I will always choose to fight for you.”

Nothing Is Fine | 2,161 | mostly_maudlin

Summary: It’s not good, not at all, not for Andrew, or for this foul-mouthed FBI agent telling him to “forget about Neil Josten,” or for Wymack standing between them in this Baltimore motel room. Oh, sir, don’t you know how hard Andrew has tried to forget Neil? Don’t you know that boy is an expert in getting under people's skin? Andrew’s knuckles itch to clutch scarred shoulder, to brush against auburn hair, but they’ll settle for crunching against this fucking agent’s nose.

hypocorisms | 2,183 | mostly_maudlin / @mostlymaudlin

Summary: Three times Andrew calls Neil “rabbit,” and one time he calls him “bunny.”

Like Holding A Knife By The Blade | 2,663 | sambutwithbooks

Summary: “Rough day?” Neil asks, the upturn of his tone making it into a question. He’s being handled with kid gloves and the itching feeling under his skin ignites into fury. When Neil goes to reach for the half-finished cigarette, Andrew jerks his hand away with a scowl.  “Guess that answers that,” Neil says, too at ease in the face of his childishness. “What’s wrong?” Andrew makes a noise, something derisive and mean. He’s been on edge for days now, the loop of Neil’s voice playing between his ears- how casual and sincere he’d sounded despite the lie on his lips. I love you. 

transmission | 2,828 | badacts / @badacts

Summary: Living alone is more of an adjustment than Neil likes to admit. Or, 5 times they talk on the phone and one time they don't.

anywhere. everywhere. | 2,968 | moonix / @annawrites

Summary: In a moment of desperation, Neil summons a demon to protect him from his father - and gets a little more than he bargained for.

staff recommendation | 3,151 | flybbfly / @wilsherejack

Summary: Andrew works at a bookstore. Neil stumbles in during a bad storm.

long way up | 3,498 | moonix

Summary: “You have an awful lot of ideas about what I shouldn’t do,” he says, gaze rolling down Neil’s body like a single raindrop. “Yet I don’t even know your name.” “It’s Neil. And you’re the one who was about to jump off the roof.” “Was I?” The man says. “I don’t recall. Andrew.”

cover me (the enchanted ink remix) | 3,679 | lolainslackss / @lolainslackss

Summary: Andrew's very specific brand of witch-craft involves enchanting ink to create magical tattoos. Neil Josten has some dark magic scarring he wants covered up.

Bleeding Hearts | 3,796 | fuzzballsheltiepants / @fuzzballsheltiepants

Summary: An excessively attractive stranger comes into Andrew's bookstore looking for warmth after giving his coat away to a man in need. Extremely bad flirting ensues.

every time you curse my name | 4,011 | djhedy

Summary: minyard, when I said you have to make a twitter account, I did not mean make one and don’t use it. What a shame for you that you did not stipulate that in my contract.

at war with peace | 4,135 | wyverning

Summary: Only Neil fucking Josten could turn a break-up attempt into a proposal.

Jinxed All The Way | 4,165 | moonix / @annawrites

Summary: Andrew is the local reclusive curse-breaker. Neil has a knack for getting himself hexed, but it's been happening suspiciously often lately, even for him.

boyfriend privileges | 4,199 | mostly_maudlin / @mostlymaudlin

Summary: Andrew knows he treats Neil different. So why is it so bothersome that everyone else seems to know it, too? Five times Neil gets boyfriend privileges, and one time it doesn't piss Andrew off.

told me everything about you (that's a bold move) | 4,258 | Talls / @tallsinspace

Summary: Social misfit with flighty tendencies seeks email correspondence with someone who doesn’t like small talk and doesn’t ask personal questions. I don’t really know who would respond to something like this, but if you’ve ever been so alone that you knew for a fact that dying would have a net zero impact on the world, my email address is abramnewemail@hotmail.com and I want to know what you think makes people cruel.

Champion | 4,306 | exactly13percent_OLD (hymbeaux) / @evanfixes

Summary: Being a gymnast is not something that typically requires running. It's also not for people that are afraid of heights. Neil and Andrew really fucked themselves over. Maybe there's one good thing that can come out of it, though. Maybe meeting each other is enough.

if my love can hold you (i'll keep you with me) | 4,345 | Fortheloveofexy / @fortheloveofexy

Summary: Andrew isn’t stupid. He knows Neil is touch starved. He’s noticed the way Neil melts under him when they kiss, the way he stills and shivers at Andrew’s fingers sliding under his shirt. He’s noticed the uncertain hunger in Neil’s gaze when Andrew pulls away after getting both of them off. Like he wants something more, but he doesn’t quite know how to ask for it. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Neil doesn’t ask for it. Or at least, he doesn’t ask Andrew.

your crown of thorns holds roses | 4,390 | quensty / @quensty

Summary: Three days after he signs his death sentence to Palmetto State, five after Andrew Minyard knocks him breathless to the ground, Neil's gaze snaps to the locker room mirror and stares, frozen, at the word threat scrawled along his spine in terrifying bold. All in all, he isn’t thrilled about the situation this puts him in, but based off the negative connotation, it isn’t one-sided, either. On the bright side, at least this means his soulmate doesn’t harbor any delusions of grandeur.

drape me in your warmth | 5,002 | queermccoy

Summary: Neil liked this apartment because the floors were even and the landlord was just as allergic to background checks as he was. Neil handed him a wad of cash for the first six months upfront and the rough-looking middle aged man had just sucked on his teeth and said, "what even is a credit score, anyway,” before slapping the lease down on the empty kitchen counter. He'd added, "The previous tenant offed himself" and "did Neil want to keep the kitchen island he left behind?" Neil said he did, that he didn't have a lot of furniture of his own. Might as well. He signed the lease under his newest name, Neil Josten, and then immediately went out to get his locks changed.

thorn in my skin | 5,861 | ephemeralsky / @nakasomethingkun

Summary: These days, both of them are able to sleep on the same bed without any weapons underneath their pillows and on their person, and Andrew is not sure what he wants to do with this knowledge. They have poured years into forging their armors, and now they are stripping them, piece by tattered piece.

can i get a kiss (can you make it last forever) | 8,995 | Talls / @tallsinspace

Summary: “I’m obsessive about everything,” Neil protests, sitting in a booth with the four upperclassmen he can stand. “What makes this obsession special?” “Okay, we get the Exy obsession, because you’re legitimately planning on going pro, and we get the Kevin obsession because he’s dedicated to teaching you to go pro, and we even get the Minyard obsession,” Dan says. “Shh,” Neil pleads desperately, hoping beyond hope that nobody heard that. “But the podcast has nothing to do with Exy! It’s half about music, and you don’t even like music that much,” Dan says. “It’s literally just music and a really weird guy talking about his homicidal impulses, and it sorta sounds like a joke, but on a much more real level it sounds like it’s absolutely not a joke and I would call the authorities if this guy gave any personal details at all,” Dan says. “It’s mostly a joke,” Neil offers, but it sounds weak to his own ears.

wingpeople | 11,308 | likearecord

Summary: I mean, what else could Nicky have done when he spotted Andrew smiling at the hot guy making his coffee? Not meddle? Not get all the Foxes on board? It's like you don't even know him.

eat the rich | 11,421 | bazookajo94 / @bazookajo94

Summary: A group of amateur thieves kidnap a senator’s son to ransom him for money. The senator’s son doesn’t want to go back.

cocoa dust | 22,319 | djhedy

Summary: Neil had seen the guy around campus a few times. It was hard not to. The exy team stood out. Or those three did, anyway. The twins with their shock-white blond hair and perpetual resting bastard face, and Kevin Day, the number 2 arrogantly tattooed on a high cheekbone, flanked as usual by at least one of the twins. And Neil knew their reputation. It’s why he stayed away.

under the kitchen lights (you still look like dynamite) | 26,365 | ephemeralsky / @nakasomethingkun

Summary: “Besides, you’re not a stranger,” Neil says. “You did not know my name until a minute ago,” Andrew points out. “I’ve been petting your cat everyday for the past month, though.” “That does not make us friends.” “I didn’t say we were.” Neil tilts his head, the hint of a smirk on his lips. “We’re neighbors.” (Andrew's recent Google search history: ambient sounds to help you sleep, what qualifies you for a service dog, why do cats like to sit in boxes, daily horoscope scorpio, does quoting shakespeare mean you're being flirted with, buzzfeed quizzes food, how to be neighborly)

2024 Reclists · INBOX · Blog Updates

[musingmelsuinesmelancholy]

This is gunna be a personal and ramble-y blog, fair warning! Really just using this as a means to organize my thoughts.

I started practicing traditional witchcraft at a weird time; right before it got popular (not that I’m special, I am Just Some Bitch) and everyone jumped on the “I hate Wiccans my witchcraft is so edgy and traditional ™️” bandwagon. I had been extremely new age prior; that summer I had stopped “practicing”. (I don’t consider what I was doing then Wicca or witchcraft) I was in a fragile state due to my (ex now) boyfriend raping me. (how’s that erectile dysfunction treating you Matthew?) I don’t know why, but l was Called via some rather visceral dream-vision experiences. I had no real knowledge, skills or abilities to allow me to understand what I was seeing nor why. I bought some books over tradcraft, I think treading the mill, a Cornish book of ways and a grimoire for modern cunning folk were my firsts, and they did help- but they also left me confused. I didn’t understand the ~current~ behind these various authors traditions. I didn’t understand how one could practice traditional witchcraft outside of Europe. The skills I was lacking, that I wanted to cultivate weren’t within the pages of those books. (GMDF DID go over technique/methodology more than the other two books I had but it wasn’t exactly what I needed)

I turned to tumblr for answers. (horrible fucking idea!) I did get some, some folks were able to answer some of my questions and i’ll always be grateful for their help. Overall it fucked me over, I kept comparing myself to popular bloggers with decades more experience than me. I didn’t participate in discourse but I definitely got swept up in it. “Ok so THIS is what trad witches do” “Oh no wait THIS is what they do” 🤦🏼‍♂️ I got so frustrated, so confused I allowed myself to halt my progression. I definitely bothered some bloggers, asked and said some S T U P I D things.

I think my being PDA autistic also contributed. My thinking is literal and dualistic, I struggle with executive dysfunction and I’m bad at talking to people/explaining myself. So I went from a very wishy washy paradigm to a very strict astringent one. Only I had no knowledge so I felt like I couldn’t and shouldn’t do anything until I’m researched enough. The problem with that is witchcraft is an action, it is the doing. It’s not the research. Results are nice but that’s not the witchcraft, the witchcraft is the performing of the spell. I went from believing that as long as I say sorry everything is fine; the gods/spirits won’t care to understanding that my mistakes and inconsistency do matter. So I thought that I had fucked up too badly and ruined any chance I had. The craft became a demand which triggered my ED and my flight/fight responses ( thank you PDA autism ). There was discourse at the time about disabled witches, you had more new age types saying the same shit about how anything goes/everything/anything is fine, you had more serious occultists saying no, it’s ableist to treat disabled occultists like babies. I agree with the latter, of course, but at the time rather than understanding that I had to work with/around my ED I just tried to power through it which just made me burnout. I thought this was laziness and again, that I had ruined my relationships with the spirits. I worried too much about mucking things up further or being “punished”.

Despite all that I was still experiencing very real, very tangible, very intense things. Seeing spirits- awake or dreaming, actual results from my spells, signs/omens/dreams. He continued to come to me- even answering questions, relieving anxieties/doubts. Yet still I returned again and again and again to tumblr. I should’ve continued on with what I was doing and deleted the app. Nobody but me and the spirits has answers for me, nobody could tell me what I was experiencing meant or what direction I was to go in. That’s for the spirits to tell me, that’s for me to figure out.

I’m in a better place now, I understand things better now. I’ve learned to work with my ED. I’m learning to be nuanced in my approach to things. I’m analyzing, digesting everything I’ve experienced- listening to Them now. I know where I’m headed…kinda- I am heeding Their direction.

My experiences may not be as consistently crazy or mind-blowing as they where those first few years but they don’t need to be. I was shown, I was told where to go. I’m finally listening, the signs are more subtle now but they’re there. They are there, still. I don’t know if I’ll “make it” (what even does that mean) as a witch. I’ll definitely never succeed if I continue on as I was prior, I need to push myself. To actually to The Thing.

[dcfanficrealtime]

1914: A Gift

The year is 1914. The year gods started to walk the Earth.

In Kansas, USA there lies a small town in the direct center of the state. A town that once wanted to grow bigger but due to economic changes and with the dawn of a new century, this town's growth was stunted. But in hindsight, the people of this town had no idea why they even tried so out of irony, they decided to name the town Smallville.

But enough about the history of Smallville. On December 2nd, 1914 a young married couple find themselves on the way back home from buying a new automobile from Wichita. The husband, named Jonathan (27), is excited about his new purchase. "Well this will make it a hell of a lot easier to get around town. At least we won't have to keep bumming rides from the Langs. Isn't this exciting dear?" But his wife, Martha (25) gives a quiet "Yes, that's great honey." Jon can hear the sadness in Martha's voice. "Listen, I know this has been a hard time with losing the baby in the... accident. I know it's tough. But maybe this can be a new start for us. Maybe God is testing us right now and maybe... maybe it's just not our time." Martha lets out a hefty sigh and continues to stare out the window.

On their drive home, a storm begins to brew. "Uh oh, here comes that good ol' Kansas weather," Jonathan says under his breath. Not even a few minutes go by and they're in the middle of a blizzard. "Maybe we should stop and wait for it to blow over!" yells Martha. "No, we can make it! We're only a few miles away!" It gets harder and harder to see and the wind keeps gushing by growing louder and louder. "Jonathan, stop!" Martha screams. "We can make it!" Jonathan screams back and as he says this a blast of light rushes past them and Jonathan swerves onto the side of the road, one of the tires popping right off! They're stopped. Jonathan looks over at Martha asking, "Are you alright?" "I'm fine honey. Are you?" "I'm ok. What the hell was that???" "I don't know, but whatever it was it looked like it stopped over there!" They see a big, glowing fire in the distance. Both wanting to see it out of curiosity, they both start to grab their heavier winter gear. But Jonathan stops and says, "Wait. What if it was trying to attack us? I mean look what it did to the car? There's no way it's safe." "What if it is?", Martha replies. "If it was after us it would've come for us already. We need to find out what it is." She explodes out of the car and starts her trek across the field. Jonathan sighs and goes after her.

After a few minutes of trekking through the snow, they see the glow start to simmer down and slowly disappear. They both start jogging toward it until... they see it. An aircraft of some sorts. Nothing they've ever seen before, something too far advanced than the technology they have now. "What the hell is this, Jonathan?" "It looks like a space craft out of one of those H.G. Wells books. But... no, it can't be. It has to be foreign. From the war. Russian? German? Chinese? And look at the markings on it. " They see painted on the vessel a crest of some sorts. A shield like shape with a big red S in the middle. "Let's go Martha, I don't like this." They turn to head back but right before they start on their way back to the automobile, Martha hears it. "Wait, Jonathan. Do you hear that?" "I don't hear anything," Jon replies. Martha runs back to the space craft. She tries to open it but immediately gets burned by the pod despite her gloves. A slight hiss could be heard from the space craft as the main cockpit opens up. Jonathan finally joins and sees what Martha heard. "Oh my god," Jonathan whispers. A baby, screaming and crying. Luckily, there's not a scratch on it. Martha darts towards it, picks it up and urges Jonathan to come back to the automobile. They get inside and both are starstruck. They grab one of the spare quilts they have in the back seat and wraps the baby in it. Both Jon and Martha hold each other close with the baby in Martha's arms. The baby starts to quiet down as well.

After an hour the storm comes to a halt and the sun gleams through the clouds. Jonathan repairs the tire on the automobile and they start back on their way to Smallville.

They stop by the local orphanage and explain to the dean that they found the baby in a... basket of sorts on the side of the road.

They head home and for a week straight, this baby is all Martha can think about.

Martha sits by the window in their bedroom and Jonathan stares at her longingly. "Still thinking about the baby?" Jonathan asks. Martha turns to look at him and nods. "It's all alone now," says Martha. "It has no family. We can't just let it grow up and let it wonder who their true family is, we can't let it feel abandoned." Jonathan replies, "We don't where it came from. Why was it there? What if it's... a weapon? What if it's from the war and whoever put that baby in there belongs to some foreign government?" Martha replies, "You said 'God was testing us'. What if... this is a gift? A message from Him? An answer to our prayers... You remember when I told you I was adopted?" Jonathan nods in response. "You know how I felt in that orphanage. I was alone for 14 years until finally my parents adopted me. I was so alone. It can't feel the same way. I won't let it. It's just a baby." Jonathan sighs, "When are we headed over?"

Paper work is signed and the young baby boy is handed to them wrapped in a bright blue blanket. The baby reaches out to Martha's face. The dean says, "I now pronounce you mother and father. Congratulations!" Jonathan and Martha smile from ear to ear. "What do you want to name him?" Jonathan asks. "There's no way we're naming him Jonathan Junior." "Dammit..." Jonathan whispers. "Wait, what was the name of your grandpa?" "It was Clark. Huh... I like that. Clark Kent. It has a ring to it." "Alright then," Jonathan says. "Clark Kent it is."

[icyschreviews]

A Review of Dragon Age: Inquisition

Part 1: Playing a Broken PC Port

This is part 1 of a multi-part review of Dragon Age: Inquisition. Click here for part 2 and part 3.

God, why do I keep doing this? I tell myself I’ll only play a game for fun and next thing you know I’m five pages and half a bottle of tequila down a review. It’s you, BioWare, isn’t it? We keep doing this with every other game you release. Andromeda was the reason I got into this futile hobby in the first place. Well shame on you, you and your nerdy DnD mechanics and your campy fantasy drama and your thirst traps you call companions. Yes, I’m going to trash Inquisition now. Consider yourselves responsible.

Where do I even begin with this game? It’s safe to say that I’m a fan of Origins through and throughout. There are many RPGs out there that call themselves old-school, but not one quite like Origins. Sure, I’m into action RPGs as well (I play Dark Souls just like any other hoe), but few games can match Origins’ juicy blend of stellar writing and complex combat.

So let’s not treasure that. Let’s piss all over it and burn it in a dumpster, eh EA? All the cool kids are doing open-worlds now, so we have to follow the trends. Cram as much content as you can in it. God forbid the next Assassin’s Creed has one more minute of gameplay than we do. Give us crafting. Can’t have a triple-A game without that. And bigger maps. I said bigger! Copy-paste the stuff we already have. More quest markers. So many quest markers that they overlap on the map. MOAR!

Oh dear, we got so worked up we forgot about the graphics. There’s no way we’re releasing this game if you can’t see every scale on a dragon’s ass. It’s called Dragon Age after all. Say what now, BioWare? Your engine can’t keep up with that level of detail? Hush baby, we’re not going to license someone else’s well documented and well tested engine. Mama’s got Unreal at home.

Goat’s blood all over you edifice, EA.

Listen, I don’t have anything against console players. People should play games wherever its the most convenient for them. I also have nothing against bringing games to more platforms. Sure, adapt Dragon Age for consoles. Why not make it available to a larger crowd? But why, oh why would you do that at the expense of the PC version? Tell me, BioWare, please.

I booted up Inquisition for the first time, took control after the initial cut-scene, pressed space on my keyboard and almost had a heart attack. Instead of pausing the game my character jumped. Jumped, I tell you! What is this blasphemy in my Dragon Age game? I quickly remapped the controls. Off with you, filthy jump button!

Next came pressing the tab button. Tab. Tab! Tab, goddamn, why is it not responding? Ok, back to the key bindings. How do I highlight items in the area? Right, by pressing the V key. Lets remap that real quick. Now press tab…

It echoed. The highlight is now an echo. Wha— Why? Why would you do that, BioWare? How is that more convenient than the way it was before? You used to hold down tab and all interactable items in the area would stay highlighted as long you had your finger on the button. The new echo only marks objects for a short while. You don’t even have enough time to make a full circle before the highlight starts fading. What am I supposed to do with this? If the highlight didn’t also flash on the mini-map, it’d be practically unusable.

I didn’t realize what caused this change until I switched over to a gamepad (spoiler alert). There the highlight is mapped to L3. Of course it fucking is. Who would want to hold down L3 for a prolonged period of time? Alright, BioWare, but why not have two separate implementations of this feature for different platforms? You can’t tell me the echo was the easier one to implement. At least it beeps differently when there aren’t any items around.

Ok, deep breaths. Remember what you learned in therapy. All of these are just minor inconveniences. I’m sure the rest of the game plays just fine. Look, what’s that item in the corner? Let’s check it out. Click on it. Click. Right click on it. Again. Click…

Oh my god, your character doesn’t automatically approach faraway items to interact with them any more. You have to walk over to them and then click. What’s worse the collision boxes went on a diet. Picking up a slim little elfroot requires a surgeon’s precision. I’d consistently walk over to one, only to overshoot it by a tiny bit. If this didn’t make me blow my brains out, nothing ever will.

Blasphemy!

And that’s not even half of it. The real war crimes were committed against the game’s combat. I can’t even begin to describe it. The combat was desecrated. Defiled. Abolished. Torn to pieces and processed through a meat grinder. The tactical mode is the stuff of which nightmares are made of. It feels finicky at best and rage inducing at worst.

I can’t believe Origins is the oldest Dragon Age game, yet the only one to have its shit together when it comes to the camera. Does regression count as some sort of progress? Dragon Age 2 trimmed the maximum zoom level, but Inquisition went one step further and let the camera clip into the ceiling. Visibility in closed spaces is miserable and it only gets worse in poorly lit dungeons.

If that wasn’t bad enough, the game randomly kicks you out of the tactical mode while adjusting the camera’s zoom level. There’s no pattern to this behavior. Sometimes it’ll do what it’s supposed to and sometimes it’ll slap you in the face and continue the action at top speed. And why don’t orders from the tactical mode carry over outside of it? Do I really have to keep smashing the attack button? Even when I go into the tactical mode and tell someone to do something, chances are they might just ignore me.

To go even further, when you hover over abilities in the quick bar nothing pops up. Am I seriously supposed to pause the game and open up the menu each time I want to check an ability’s description? Alright, Inquisition, I’ll do that. Just tell me, why are all of the UI elements flipping out? I can’t scroll down a simple list without the cursor losing its goddamn mind and jumping all over the place. Similarly there’s no information when you hover over your companions’ images, no health, no XP, no stats, no nothing. Status effect are presented as these small specks in the corner of your screen. I needed a magnifying glass to properly identify them.

Just checking for cobwebs up here.

But wait, humble reviewer, why are you using the tactical mode? Don’t you know it’s useless? No one plays Inquisition like that. Just get into the action and start smashing the buttons. Tactics - who needs them? I finished the game on Nightmare and only had to fire up like two brain cells. Trust me, you should forget about the tactical mode all toge—

No, you forget about the tactical mode! If I wanted to play an action RPG, I would have booted up The Witcher 3. I’m sick of triple-A games converging into this indistinguishable hodgepodge of recycled ideas. This is Dragon Age, goddammit. I won’t let EA trick me into believing this is where the franchise should be heading. I’ll get my share of tactical combat out of this game, so god help me!

…

Ok, but maybe I won’t be doing that with a mouse and keyboard. Once I realized my old approach wasn’t working any more, I decided to try my luck with a gamepad. Lo and behold things started falling into place. Suddenly I wasn’t playing a busted PC port, but a decent console exclusive.

Without a mouse and keyboard in my hands I wasn’t compelled to play the game the way I used to. The gamepad tricked my mind into approaching Inquisition with a fresh set of eyes. The menus started responding to my inputs. I wasn’t looking for overlays because I had nothing I could use for hovering. No more mouse, so no more futile clicking on objects in the distance. Just tilt the stick and press A. Feels good, don’t it?

If someone had told me I’d be playing a Dragon Age game with a gamepad, I would have urged them to take that filth elsewhere. Today if someone else were to put a gun to my head and order me to play Inquisition with a mouse and keyboard, I would tell them to shoot and end my misery. It’s like BioWare unironically developed a console exclusive and then smashed together a shabby port. To think this franchise was once home on the PC.

Well pardon me, but from now on I’ll be reviewing Dragon Age Inquisition, a spin-off from the main Dragon Age series. This time exclusively on consoles and totally not playable on PC. Don’t let Steam fool you, this thing don’t run with a mouse and keyboard.

You have to flip a switch and restart the game just to use a gamepad? Whaaat?

Once I was sure the simple act of picking up herbs wasn’t going to make me blow my brains out, I decided to give Inquisition another shot. The tactical mode was still waiting for me. Oh, you didn’t think I was done with it just because I switched over to a gamepad? Silly you.

The gamepad made me feel like I was playing a completely different game. In the PC version the tactical mode worked more or less the same way it did in the previous two games. Pardon me, it tried to work. In the console version time is stopped by default the moment you enter the tactical mode. You don’t press a button to unfreeze time, instead you hold down the trigger to make time move forward. The moment you release the trigger time stops again.

At first this didn’t seem like much of a change. You still issue commands the way you did before. However this gives an entirely new flavor to the combat. Applying different amounts of pressure on the trigger makes time move at different speeds. This means you can let little bits of time slip by if you want tight control over the combat, i.e. you can let it rip at top speed if you feel comfortable with the decisions you’ve made.

To boot some of the issues which were present in the PC version simply aren’t there any more. You don’t get thrown out of the tactical mode for changing the zoom level. Then why on earth was this a problem with a mouse and keyboard? I quickly grew accustomed to the new control scheme and was able to cruise through the tactical mode with ease. However the more time I spent with it, the more I realized just how many holes were drilled through the sides of this ship.

One of the first challenges was figuring out how to zoom in on a particular party member. When selecting the next person using the D-pad the game would reposition the camera onto that person. At least this is how it works outside of the tactical mode. Inside the mode the camera stays put regardless of your selection. This means switching over between ranged and melee units requires you to move the cursor back and forth across the battlefield. Or you could quickly exit the tactical mode, switch to the desired character and then dive back in. Talk about an ideal solution.

The problems don’t stop there. During combat you can open up a hot wheel with additional tactical options as well as access to potions. The potions work as you’d expect them to, but the special commands can only be applied to the entire party. Meaning if I wanted to move Sera to an advantageous position and tell her to stay put, that command would make the entire party stop dead in their tracks.

Orders that should be simple are thus a headache to execute—except, hold on a minute. It turns out you can tell only one party member to hold their ground. You just need to double tap the desired location. I’m going to give the game the benefit of a doubt and say I missed this information because I played the tutorial with a mouse and keyboard. Still, why does this command work differently when issued from the hot wheel?

At least telling your companions to smack someone on the head is easy enough. Have you seen that new warrior skill tree? It has an ability which lets you pull an enemy using a chain and then ceremoniously kick them in the face. Here, let me show you. Come on, Inquisitor, let it rattle. Wait… Why did my Inquisitor miss her shot? She turned 90 degrees away from her target and flipped the chain towards a rock. What a bizarre bug. Let’s try that one more time. It happened again! And again! Now Sera is also shooting at trees.

What’s going on here? My companions keep directing their shots in random directions at random times. Is it because they’re out of range? I’m pretty sure that’s not the case. Are obstacles a problem? No, my Inquisitor is able to chain-pull people through carts. Elevation maybe? No, then she flips her chain in the right direction, but it sinks through the terrain. What the heck then? Am I supposed to make peace with this as well? At lest the ability doesn’t go into cooldown when you miss.

Never mind, Cassandra, go defend that position. Cassandra? Where are you, girl? Why haven’t you moved at all? Are you stuck? Did someone apply some sort of status effect on you? Not that I’d know since the UI doesn’t tell me… Let me just exit the tactical mode and see if I can move you. Yes, I can. Another bizarre bug, I guess. Wait, why is my Inquisitor stuck now? And now Blackwall! And Bull! Stop it, it’s contagious!

Come to mama.

I remembered somewhere along the way that this was a Dragon Age game and that I didn’t have to manage every single breath a companion takes. So I rolled up my sleeves and opened up the menus looking for the tactical settings. Except there wasn’t much to play around with. The only behavior you can change is potion consumption and the auto-usage of specific abilities.

Where are the in-depth settings that were part of the previous games? Where are the fine-grained conditions? What about behavioral presets? How do my companions act by default? Are they aggressive? Are they defensive? Does this vary based on class? How would I even know?

During this search, I stumbled across a menu letting me tweak various aspects of the gameplay. Among those was an option to toggle friendly fire. Since I was dearly missing the feature in Dragon Age 2, I decided to turn it on. Immediately after Varric blasted me and Cassandra out of Thedas. It did not last long before I relented and turned the feature back off. Some abilities are just to unpredictable to use, chain lightning for example. I let Vivienne zap some poor bastard thinking he was well out of range, only to have the entire party light up like Christmas candles.

The next thing that came to my attention was the cursor and how busted it is. Inside the tactical mode you can move it using a stick. However it can’t go through obstacles. If there’s a log standing between you and your target, you need to circle around it. Why on earth would the cursor be affected by collisions?

Elevations create a new set of problems. You literally have to walk the cursor up the goddamn stairs. But what if there aren’t any stairs? What if my target is perched upon a cliff? There’s absolutely no way to reach them without exiting the tactical mode. The cursor also disappears on slopes. This problem is the most prominent in the desert maps. There’s no way to select a target if it’s standing on the steep sides of a dune.

And don’t even get me started on the cursor’s range. You can’t move it far away from the currently selected character. What if my party members are spread apart? Because of this I couldn’t command my ranged units to attack a target next to my melee ones. So what if they need to move in closer before firing? Make them do that automatically.

Not the stairs again.

Left to their own devices companions can usually find their way. Usually. This is handled rather well during exploration. Even if a companion gets stuck and left behind, the game will teleport them behind you when you’re not looking. This is simple and seamless.

The same magic trick does not work in combat. Once you press the button launching you into the tactical mode, your companions are left standing wherever they were before that. I once slid down a hill straight into combat and left Vivienne and Sera staring down at me from the top. I powered my way through the encounter out of sheer spite while the ladies must have spent their time bickering.

The very worst example of this is a cave up on the Storm Coast. It’s your usual case of spider infestation, but it was the level’s geometry and not the enemies that my companions could not get their heads around. The first time I entered the cave I engaged in combat only to realize I was alone. Upon closer inspection I found my party stuck outside trying to burrow their way in through a solid wall. The entrance of the cave was 5 feet to the side.

On the second go I made sure everyone was lined up in front of the entrance, but only Solas successfully made it in. He then proceeded to climb up a ladder on his own incentive. I switched over to him, wanting to bring Mr elven supremacy down to earth, only for the entire party to be teleported somewhere outside of the cave. My Inquisitor retained their default combat pose and slid down a hill.

Even when I managed to get all of them inside, they constantly kept getting stuck on walls. The camera was losing its mind and entering and exiting the tactical mode teleported me to random corners of the cave. It’s safe to say I never entered that dungeon again.

How the hell did you get in here?

You could say I was perplexed the first time I opened up the skill trees. Dragon Age 2 did a good job of tidying up Origins’ level-up system, but on first glance Inquisition went a bit too far. I counted 4 trees per class which was a downgrade from the 6 you had in DA2. Lots of abilities seemed to be missing. Mages only had 3 elemental skill trees and 1 you could call defensive. What happened to entropy? Or blood magic? How am I supposed to create different builds with all these ability points coming in?

The game just stayed quiet and chuckled until I reached Skyhold. After receiving my first Fade ability I opened up the level-up screen and—wait, what’s this? New skill trees? There was a new one per character. I repeat per character, not per class. Dragon Age, I could kiss you right now.

This is hands down the best level-up system in all three games. Not only is it tidy, not only is it measured, but it also guarantees unique builds across different characters. The first thing I did was re-spec the entire party. Now every member has a specific role to play. Blackwall is my indestructible tank, Cassandra is an expert for handling demons and Cole is my precious little glass canon. The only flaw is that those unique skill trees are the exact same ones used for your Inquisitor’s specialization. This means that depending on your class and play-style someone in your party might become redundant. Since I reveled in ripping people to shreds this ended up being Bull for me.

I also like how they handled your stats. The previous two games worked like most traditional RPGs. After a level-up, you’d get a certain amount of points you could invest in your attributes. However Inquisition doesn’t grant these types of points. Instead unlocking certain abilities automatically increases some of your attributes. This is brilliant because it ensures that your character’s stats stay consistent with your desired play-style. So if you want to be a defensive warrior, the defensive skills will pump up your constitution for you.

Besides the skills you’re already familiar with Inquisition introduces some new ones. I admit, I couldn’t immediately see the use for all of them. Varric is a prime example of this. His unique skill tree is all about setting traps, but to what end? You’re rarely ever in the position to lure someone in. Either you stumble upon a pack enemies or you raid their camp. So what am I supposed to do with bear traps?

The game helped me change my mind during the boss fight against the Grand Duchess Florianne. The damn woman kept jumping behind my squishies, sending them to the Maker’s side and then escaping onto a banister where the pathing system said I couldn’t touch her. That’s when I remembered Varric.

Previously I invested points into an ability that let him scatter a bunch of mines. The catch is that each mine applies random elemental damage to anyone who steps on it. At first I didn’t know what to do with it. Enemies usually have one elemental weakness and it’s that particular one you want to exploit. However it turns out you can go to town with this ability as long as an enemy isn’t immune to a particular element or if you’re trying to cover a wider area. Once I let Varric do his thing, I sat back and watched the Duchess destroy her own health bar just by pouncing around the place. It was like an early birthday present.

Inquisition frequently rewards you for playing around like this. During the last fight in Haven I was tasked with holding out against multiple waves of Red Templars. This was by far the most grueling challenge in the game up to that point. Scouring for options, I noticed a convenient bottleneck in the terrain. A giant trebuchet was occupying a corner of the battlements and Solas just so happened to have his ice wall ability. What ensued might be called cheesing by some. I blocked off one side of the trebuchet forcing the Templars to trickle in the other way around. This let me pick them off at my own leisure.

To list one more example, I often had to deal with shadow warriors and harlequins. Rogues have a cloaking ability which makes them invisible long enough to come slash your tendons. You can sort of make out their silhouette, but it’s much better to flush them out as early as possible. So for example, Vivienne can throw Chain Lightning on the closest visible enemy which will then bounce off hidden ones as well.

Smash his face in, Cassandra!

All of those abilities wouldn’t be as impressive if you couldn’t put them to use. Luckily Inquisition has got you covered. The enemy variety is excellent across the board. For a game of this size it’s remarkable that I only started getting bored of beating people up after the 100+ hour mark. Even then, I’d blame the lack of fun on needless repetition and not on diminishing quality.

There’s a bit of something for everyone. Human opponents come in all shapes and sizes. There are the standard swordsman. There are the bulkier ones with shields whom you have to flank as best you can. Archers are able to knock your head off if you leave them be for too long. Mages are of course as deadly as ever, spawning lethal mines, teleporting out of the way and all in all making your life miserable. Each of the Red Templar variations has something new to offer. Knights are tasked with charging up other units, but they’re sturdy and not so easily taken out. Horrors are dangerous on their own, but instantaneously fatal if you let them get buffed.

There’s also the usual assortment of beasts: wolves, bears, spiders and such. There are a bunch of mini bosses scattered around the world who, unlike regular enemies, are large enough for you to target their individual body parts. This allows for shrewd tactics like crippling a giant’s legs to get access to its head. Overall the enemy variety is so abundant that Inquisition only needs to mix things up a little to keep you engaged long term.

You might have noticed I listed a bunch of things, but still haven’t mentioned the most interesting addition to the combat - the Fade rifts. Not only are they important from a story perspective, but they’re also elegantly designed. Each Fade rift is a perfect combination of known and unknown factors.

A rift usually has two rounds (though I seem to remember encountering ones with three). The first round welcomes you on arrival. It’s a done deal with a set number of enemies. You can gauge the danger from a far and choose to engage of your own accord. The fun starts after you’ve beaten the first round. The rift gives you time for a breather before marking the spots where the next wave of enemies will spawn. It only tells you the number of enemies, but their type and level is up to you to deduce based on the composition of the first round. You only know for certain that the second one will be harder than the first. This allows you to think strategically while also spicing things up with a little bit of randomness.

The game also lets you be cheeky and dispel the demons before they spawn. Only certain abilities can do this, so Cassandra quickly became one of my most valued allies. If you can grasp the opportunity, you can even disrupt the rift to further hinder your foes. Moreover Fade rifts feature enemies you don’t usually encounter outside of them, giving the fights a whole new dimension. You’re already familiar with shades and rages demons, but you’ll soon get acquainted with terrors and despair demons. The former will jump over to knock you on the ground while the latter coats you with a barrage of ice.

Andraste’s tits, what is that thing?

If there’s one major thing I’d like to criticize about the enemies, it’s the spawning algorithm. I usually like to clean out an area and not worry about it any more. However the designers seemed worried that my goldfish brain would wander off if not constantly massaged with stimuli. Random enemies keep spawning around you all of the time. It’s unbearable.

Every map is affected by this disease. Amidst the Hinterlands, bands of mages and Templars spawn in front of your eyes. Yes, I get it, I need to take care of their respected camps, but could you chill for just a sec? On another occasion I was clearing out a Venatori hideout. I decided to peek inside the next room, with most of my party still behind me. The game thought this would be the perfect opportunity to repopulate the room I had just cleared out while everyone was still standing there. Meanwhile in the desert, bloody hyenas keep appearing behind your back.

And don’t even get me started on the bears. There’s one particular area in the Hinterlands where these bastards spawn. Upon entering it they swarm you like freaking barracudas. I decided to run away except they kept spawning in front of me even after I’ve escaped their designated area. I thought reloading would get me to safety, but the game chose this moment to bug out and overflow me with bears wherever I went.

I think I reached the peak of my frustration in the Emerald Graves. I had just discovered the stag mounts and was instantly in love with them. My Qunari Inquisitor looked ridiculous on regular horses, yet the majestic red stag was just my size. I thought I’d have my Princess Mononoke moment riding through the imposing trees of the ancient forest. Except the game had other plans. I didn’t even get past the first curve in the road before two squads of Freemen sprung up in front of me. Why, hello there. Were you getting lonely?

The only upside is that different enemies don’t tolerate one another. If they cross paths, they’ll waste no time jumping at each other’s throats. So Templars will be kind enough to clear out mages and giants might stomp Red Behemoths on your behalf. Though on one occasion I encountered a group of mercenaries relaxing near a Fade rift. Maybe they were enjoying some afternoon tea with the wisps. Who am I to judge?

Run wild, my precious.

Concerning bosses, fighting dragons has become sort of a tradition in the series (rather fittingly I guess). The way Inquisition introduces you to the first one in the game is undoubtedly memorable. You walk through a mysterious cave in the Hinterlands and emerge onto a hidden valley. What’s this pretty place? What sort of things are here to explore, I wonder? Oh look, is that a bird in the sky? No, wait… Five seconds later your whole party is running ablaze, wailing in agony.

I love it when games mess with you like this. The things is, there isn’t just one or two dragons in the game. There are ten of these mother fuckers in Inquisition! This is not even counting the two tied to the main quest and the two found in the DLCs. Emprise du Lion (the second worst map in the game btw) has three, I repeat, THREE of them chained together in one corner of the map. Why on earth!?

This wouldn’t be a problem if each dragon wasn’t more of the same. It’s fine if you fight them once or twice, but it quickly starts loosing its charm after that. Their behavior consists of a couple of things. First, they have a phase where they fly over you and bombard you with their designated elemental attack. Second, they can spew out the same elemental attack while on the ground. Third, they have a couple of melee attacks, none too perilous considering you’re up against a dragon. Forth (now this one is interesting), they have a wing flapping attack.

If you’ve fought the dragons in the previous two games, you’ll know the best tactic is to hit them from a afar. Andraste’s dragon becomes a scared little salamander once you’ve spread out your archers and started harassing it from a distance. Inquisition thought of a neat counter to this strategy.

Once in a while the beast will flap its wings sucking in everyone who isn’t already glued to its ass, all the while doing damage with each flap. As far as I could tell this does nothing to the units at its feet, but it rains havoc on your squishies who thought they were safe at a distance. Running away does not work, so ironically the best strategy is to run towards it and then run back out once it finishes. It’s a good dynamic to break up the otherwise monotone fight against a bullet sponge.

The other notable exception are the electrical dragons. Most of the dragons’ elemental attack are easy enough to dodge. These bastards however have a static cage which they can use to infect everyone in your party no matter where they are standing. This thing will wreck your day. The first electrical dragon I came across was 4 levels bellow me and it still ended up being one of the trickiest fights I had in the game. My poor mage had to keep throwing a barrier over us to try to absorb as much damage as possible.

Hm, do I need a pet lizard?

Considering it regards itself as an open-world game, Inquisition's exploration left me somewhat polarized. There are a dozen of maps for you to explore, ranging from small to absolutely humongous (looking at you Hinterlands). The sheer number of maps is frankly overwhelming. The game sections off most of them until you’ve reached Skyhold, but just glancing at them on the war table made me sweat pin balls.

What’s surprising is that despite their quantity each map has its own thing going on. Crestwood is centered around the submerged settlement, the Fallow Mire’s shtick are its endless waves of undead and the Forbidden Oasis is a maze of arches and hidden passageways. Even the Hinterlands, being the default fantasy map, have a story to tell about the conflict between the mages and the Templar taking over the farmlands.

Despite the fact that each map was conceived with a good premise, some are spread out thinner than the rest. The best example of this might be the Exalted Plains. It’s a map of stark contradictions. The theme of the map is pretty simple: plains that suffered pogroms in the past are once again engulfed in war. Compelling, right?

Well, things get complicated once you start roaming about the place. The Plains’ main highlights are the leftover trenches infested with undead. The army losses were so great that their own fortifications got overrun by corpses of their fallen allies. They present quite a decent challenge and once cleared out are again populated with Orlesian troops. Except… These trenches are huge. There are three on them in the Plains and each takes up a sizeable chunk of the map. Once you’ve cleared them out, they’re teeming with NPCs, none of which you can interact with. They’re just a bunch of fancily dressed props.

The Exalted Plains have the potential to tell a gut wrenching story of war and anguish, but the game barely even tries. If it weren’t for mentions of the civil war in Halamshiral, I would have no idea what’s going on. Imagine coming here before doing the mission at the Winter Palace (although that seems to be the desired order of things). What’s going on in this map? Who’s fighting exactly? Were are these forces stationed? Ok, this guy Gaspard is holding the east bank of the river, but why are his trenches facing one another? Sure, the bridge across the river leading to the opposing force has been destroyed, but is no one guarding that crossing?

What about the local population? There are all these codex entries detailing how the Chantry purified the Plains from the heretic elves. What do these people think of the Orlesians once again torching their land? Where are they even? I came across burned villages, but no refugees scurrying about. There’s only one Dalish camp to the side and they’re chilling in their own bubble as if the war was not raging around them.

It’s even worse when you start filling in the gaps on the map. The designers must have been worried about leaving vast stretches of open terrain, so they copy-pasted the same rocky formation all over the Plains. Over and over and over again. It’s hard to imagine that this is the same map which tucked away ancient elven ruins covered in mist on one side and an abandoned citadel scorched by the literal eye of Sauron on the other.

So nice making all of your acquaintance.

God, I don’t want to do this, but I guess I have to. Spending time in the Exalted Plains just made me think of how much better The Witcher 3 did it. Velen is to The Witcher 3 what the Exalted Plains are to Inquisition - a land torn apart by war. Yet Velen breaths so much life it seems absurd comparing it to the Exalted Plains in the first place.

In Velen villages are filled with hungry and desperate people. Houses are burning or abandoned. The two opposing forces are clearly camped out on other sides of the Pontar river. Refuges are curled up next to army strongholds. Bandits are roaming around taking advantage of the chaos. A monster infestation is breaking out because of the increased number of corpses. You can speak to a whole bunch of people across the land. You can get involved in the little details that make up their day to day struggles. Famine, missing persons, war crimes - you name it. It’s an incredibly potent mix.

Inquisition is so lucky it came out a few months before The Witcher 3. The quality of the The Witcher 3’s open world is so vastly superior to any of its predecessor (and even most games that came after it) that it makes Inquisition feel like it came out of a different era. It’s hard not comparing it to its contemporary competitor and seeing the huge gap that exists in between. The Witcher 3 has quest markers, but it relies mainly on a form of natural exploration. It drops you onto a hill and then lets you guide yourself across the map using nothing by prominent landmarks. It never repeats itself, each small section of the map feels unique and every crossroad a familiarity I could maneuver around with certainty.

Inquisition on the other hand has its hits and misses. I could navigate the aforementioned Exalted Plains with ease, but I could not for the life of me find my way through the Storm Coast. The backbone of that map is a mountainous region covered in forests. There are hills, ravines, more trees and absolutely nothing in sight which could help you figure out your own location. It’s nice of the game to draw out the path you’ve taken across the map. Otherwise the Inquisitor might have forever been lost in the woods.

Come to think of it, Inquisition does have a lot of problems with the design of its terrain. I feel like one team of designers went into the level editor, imported a flat plain and then rustled it up a bit until it resembled mountains and hills and what not. The results often feel like they’re devoid of any real sense of topography. Then another team of designers would come in and try their best populating the maps with content. I imagine this is how you end up with dozens of castles out in the middle of nowhere with absolutely no roads leading up to them.

Where the fuck to now?

When you start counting up the tally it’s up and downs across all of the maps, though the good to bad ratio can vary drastically. For example, the Hinterlands is a hodgepodge of a bunch of different things. Its central area, where the mages and Templars clash on repeat, is a good core premise. I won’t forget the first time I went through the creepy tunnel connecting the Crossroads to the demolished village where the mages and the Templars were dueling it out. You step into this thing overgrown with ferns, cloaked in mist and silence, wondering where it will take you, only to emerge onto a hellish battlefield where everyone’s shooting at you from all sides.

Contrary to that I found a castle crammed in the corner of the map, almost as an afterthought. There’s absolutely nothing leading up to it or anything else of interest in the vicinity. You find a group of apostates held up inside. This particular group believes the apocalypse is nigh, so they’re just waiting for it to happen. There’s only one dude you can talk to in the entire keep. His girlfriend just died, but he’s mostly upset they couldn’t go out in a blaze together. For some reason you offer him to join the Inquisition and he says yes. Pardon me, he says yes? The guy who was determined to die a second ago changed his mind on a whim. This was before I gained the group’s trust by closing the breach in their backyard.

To view the glass as half-full again, you’ll see the remains of a decrepit castle perched upon a hill just outside of the Crossroads. You’ll find your way up to it and then beyond a lush lake hidden away from the atrocities of civil war. There are deer jumping around, a small waterfall overflowing into the valley where the mages and Templars are fighting bellow. Suddenly I noticed a red deer hopping through the forest. This one was nothing like the ones I’ve seen before. I chase it after. It must be some special breed, I think to myself. I catch up to it and strike. It turned into a rage demon. Lol, I did insist, didn’t I?

But again, contrary to that the game tasks you with finding a horse master to cater to the Inquisition’s need. I find the guy and his little commune peacefully going about their lives while the FREAKING TEMPLARS ARE BASHING EACH OTHER’S HEADS JUST ACROSS THE RIVER. Pardon me, I didn’t mean to shout. What were you saying, master Dennet? You want me to clear out some wolves for you? What, the angry Templars don’t bother you? You’re also cool with the Fade rift sitting in your backyard? Does it help the crops grow? Oh, I see you’ve got a copy of Hard in Hightown in your attic. Forgive my interruption. Do continue, sir.

The contradictions go on and on and on like this. It all culminates with the worst two maps in the game: Emprise du Lion and the Hissing Wastes. The former is meant to function as an endgame gauntlet. You’re supposed to fight your way up a mountain towards an abandoned castle on the top. The problem is the climb has no business being as long as it is. The aforementioned Suledin Keep is by far the largest fortification in the game, stretching room after room into infinity. The game quickly runs out of ideas, so it keeps throwing the same detachments of Red Templars at you. This is enough to make a woman go mad.

The latter map, Hissing Wastes, is best described by scout Harding’s words: “This space has nothing but… space.” It’s quite literally a desert wasteland. Nothing but vast unending dunes in sight. Playing through it felt like being smothered with a pillow. It was the first time in the game I had to unironically use my mount. Getting from point A to point B would have otherwise been excruciating.

Good boy, Roach.

All of this makes it seem like I hated Inquisition’s exploration down to its rotten core. It might then surprise you that its highlights were enough to push me through the questionable parts. Most of the time I was led through exploration by genuine curiosity and not some forced sense of obligation (except those last two maps). For all of the things it failed to put into place, Inquisition always had something cool tucked away for me to discover.

Quantity definitely ended up being its Achilles’ heel. I was satiated somewhere around the 100 hour mark and everything after that felt like I was stuffing myself with dessert just so it wouldn’t go to waste. Spoiler alert: I clocked around 140 hours for the base game alone. Inquisition is obscenely long in retrospect, souring up your experience the more you’re forced to spend time with it. It would have been miles better if it cut out half of its content and focused on enriching the essential stuff.

To give you an example, I thought all of the game’s dungeons were excellent. Valammar, Coracavus, Dirthamen, you name it. Coming across these places and realizing they’re completely unique content always put a smile on my face. Although I did stumble upon Valammar way, way before Varric’s loyalty mission became available. Varric, don’t tell poor Bianca we’ve been here before. She’s so keen on showing us around the place, we have to make her believe it’s our first time down here. Oh dear, I’ve even glitched through the secret door she was supposed to unlock for the quest.

While we’re on the subject, Inquisition spent no time at all thinking about progression. Sure, it locks out most maps until you’ve reached Shyhold, but after that it doesn’t bother telling you in what order to approach them or even the minimum level requirement. Unfortunately for the game I had enough points to unlock all of maps at once as soon as I got to Skyhold (the inevitable consequence of being diagnosed as a completionist).

Since the game gave me no guidance I picked a map at random. I went for the Hissing Wastes which, I soon discovered, contained end game content. Since I was clearly over my head I decided to try my luck with something else. That something else ended up being the Deep Roads mission which, even worse, is DLC. So I resorted to Google instead. It’s negligence like this that makes the game look stupid for trying to show me around Valammar. Of course I’ve already been here before - it’s right next to where I recruited Blackwall!

You could say the game directs you to some of the maps through the main quest, like telling you to go to Crestwood to investigate the Wardens, but it does no such thing for most. How are you supposed to know when to investigate the Fallow Mire or the Forbidden Oasis or the Exalted Plains for that matter? I went to the Plains after finishing Halamshiral because nothing else directed me to that area sooner. Upon entering the map I was greeted by level 11 tugs. I was level 18. Guess how that turned out for them.

What’s worse is that you don’t gain any XP by fighting enemies which are 3 or more levels beneath you. This made the entirety of the Exalted Plains a futile venture. The only tangible thing I got out of them are the companions’ quests. If I had been there sooner, I might have utilized the area better. Then again that might have made me over-leveled in some other map. Funny, it’s as if the game has too much content.

Say, Solas, what does that statue represent exactly?

This is part 1 of a multi-part review of Dragon Age: Inquisition. Click here for part 2 and part 3.

[bugnirvana]

🎸🤘brother from another mother🤘🎸[Eddie Munson & Reader] HCs

warnings: drug usage from eddie, implied from you. that’s basically it

terms used: masc (per usual)

a/n: I’m making this to soothe my anxious soul. i am in a constant state of anxiety, allow me to enjoy this please. requests got me anxious n shit. I love them but human interaction makes me so fucking nervous lol. anyway. watching anola holmes rn. i make a lot of “mbb runs over gay people” jokes but she’s truly so radiant and such a good actor! love her to bits. ok enough rambling. Im so nervous. reader and eddie have the kind of relationship/brotherhood ig that dustin and steve have. two men with nice hair yet totally and completely different? insanity. ok for real now.

the both of you met via hellfire, however, you’re in the year above the main stranger things kids so you get an entire year free of them and their bullshit

it’s ok it’s fine you love them nonetheless

this is about Eddie though. oops

Eddie literally just takes you under his wing as a younger brother and you love it

You will become the baby metalhead the world has always needed

He definitely helps you make a vest

painting with you and shit.

he loves every minute! Genuinely. He loves helping you with crafts and gets paint EVERYWHERE

probably would let you borrow some of his rings and stuff

maybe even keep some

the both of you love sharing music with one another

you find a new band? He’s probably heard of it but he’s going to act like it’s something he has no clue of just to make you feel good

You also definitely get all of your music taste from him

also just in general a grunge aesthetic

you weren’t exactly normal going into highschool but you also weren’t on his level

you let him in on ALL the gossip. he loves it

y’all have probably gone camping at least once or twice together just cuz

he’ll tell you stories about campaigns he held before yours and oh my god are the stories so entertaining

he’ll also tell you stories about his concerts and shit, like if any fights broke out from the drunk dudes lol

speaking of concerts…

he probably taught you how to play guitar

and if you knew how to already he’d teach you on how to improve

actually asks you to play with the band at one point

mainly just a simple line from a song or two but every moment is so amazing

one day you ask him if he could do your hair like his

if you have short hair oh my god did you look silly

if you have long hair he loved it

you had to tell him to stop using so much heat on ur hair or else ur hair was going to get badly heat damaged

he just ended up using copious amounts of hairspray in the end

You found him high one day and all he could do was tell you to not do drugs or whatever to be a good influence

you listened for the most part but that isn’t to say you didn’t dabble at least once or twice

did you tell him?

no…

-t directly? you let it slip out once though

he wasn’t really mad he was just curious of your experience and kind of concerned because of how young he is

also where the hell did you get it from????

that’s another question for another day

you know how eddies uncle has a lot of mugs?

eddie probably has some stashed away in his room

he eventually gives you one as a birthday present and you understand the meaning to this.

officially adopted by Eddie Munson

ok back on topic

he definitely at least attempts to get you to wear a leather jacket but you reject, claiming “it’d be too hot”

he says fine, but you’re missing out

over all he takes good care of you. good older brother figure and you wouldn’t trade him for the worldl

anxiety has kind of been soothed I guess. eddie munson brother true.

FUCKING FRANKIE GRANDE ON SPREE??AND THE GUMMY BEAR SONG WHILE HE HITS A DUDE WITH HIS CAR OH MY FUCKING GOD. new favorite movie

[sif-the-tsunami]

Ok prompt! Sy is teaching you how to cook and maybe things get frisky ? 😁

Oooo I like this. Its not 100% on the nose but this is where the muse took me.

Did you want a novel? Because, I hope you like novels.

Warnings: chili with beans, sweet cornbread, swearing, smut

"Listen hear, you chicken fried fuck. If you don't like my cooking, you are welcome to eat something else at the damn pot luck!" I snap at a grumpy retired soldier who was talking trash about my chili recipe. Like always. Whenever we have a party, he has to say something about how I'm dressed, what I brought, or the beer I was drinking.

"All I'm saying here, California, is that where I'm from we don't put beans in our chili. And don't get me started on this abomination you call cornbread. Why is it sweet, why are there vegetables in my bread?" He says in his drawl.

"Because honey and roasted jalapenos taste good together!"

"I guess. You don't need to fuss so much Princess, I'll gladly show you how to make real Texan food. Make some wife material out of you." He smirked. I think he knew he was getting under my skin.

"Come on, Sy, give her a break. Take a bite of her cornbread with the chili, they are delicious together." One of our mutual friends told him when he could see that I was not having any more of his attitude.

I walked away from the conversation, feeling incredibly salty. The man was Syverson, we had been in the same group of friends for the past couple years and honestly he was usually at least cordial with me, but the sheer audacity of his tone today. The rest of the party was really fun, at least. Occasionally, I would catch eyes the color of the ocean after a storm staring me down. He kept looking like he wanted to say something to me but I would find reasons to leave the room. Fortunately there was always a way to get out and around.

Towards the end of the evening, I go outside to enjoy the cooling air and watch the stars, listen to a couple of the guys from inside sit on the tailgate of a truck and talk about football or something. The breeze would kick up occasionally and I could smell an orange tree blooming in the distance.

"Hey, oh shit, I didn't mean to startle you." I jumped damn near out of my skin when the grump showed up out of nowhere. "I actually really wanted to say that I'm sorry, I can be a real asshole sometimes. You are usually more aware of it than others. I'm used to giving people a hard time. Your food was delicious. I just don't know how to talk to you sometimes."

I looked at the large man skeptically. I'm not used to people going from snarky to nice to me. "Thank you for apologizing. Glad you liked it, Chicken Fried. You can just talk to me like anyone else, I don't mind some teasing, but you just know how to push my buttons."

Sy looked at his feet for a moment. "I will be nicer to you, I promise."

"I'm sure." I had heard that before.

"I still think mines better," back to sounding arrogant already, "I am willing to bet that it would blow your mind."

"Do you really want to bet?"

"Yeah... sure. I'll bet you. If my chili it better than yours.... you have to go on a date with me."

"Is that how you get most of your dates these days? Tinder just isn't cutting it anymore?" I tease. He is actually kind of good looking. Sort of. If you are into that hand crafted by the gods kind of look. I'm not saying I am, but I could get the appeal.

"You'd be surprised. Most of the women I meet want to figure out what's wrong with me. Almost 40, never married, I have a job I like. They keep waiting for my skeletons to come out of the closet. Like shit, girl, I just don't like olives or sweet relish. I think I'm pretty cool otherwise." He said talking with his hands out stretched. I think he might have been being earnest with me, but his tone is almost always sarcastic.

"You were in the military, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's what's wrong with you." The big man started laughing harder than I thought he would.

"Well, California. You up for it?"

"I don't know Chicken Fried, I don't like dating, I would really just like something casual, low maintenance. What happens when I win?"

"When?" He chuckles. "If you are looking for something casual and low maintenance, baby, there is a reason when I was still in the Army they called me Captain Cunnilingus."

"It sounds like either way you win." I smirk, "I would need a real incentive to try to beat you."

"How about bragging rights?"

"If I win... you shave your beard. Then I get to use your face as a chair." He looked shocked.

"Fine, when I win, you have to wear a dress on our date, and heels. Maybe even some of that shit you all put on your lips with the glitter and fruity flavors."

"Ok, now that's unreasonable. I don't even own heels."

"I'll buy you some." Well color me impressed. We decide on the terms of the bet. We would invite a couple of friends over to his place next Sunday and they would pick a winner with a blind taste test. We would also have one canned chili and one restaurant chili to make it a little more interesting.

Sunday came, and we all gathered in his house. This was the best batch of chili I have ever made. Fresh peppers, bacon, beer and some good quality beef all swam together in a symphony of flavors. When I walked into his house, the smell was... pungent. I could smell cooking vinegar. It wasn't bad but there was something just a little off putting.

"Glad you showed up, Princess." He looked me up and down. to surprise him just a little, I did show up in a dress. I figured a special occasion needed a special outfit.

I looked over at the big man as he took my slow cooker from my hands and plugged it in for me. To be fair to both of us, we had enough time to set up sides and toppings. I even baked more cornbread. Sy made his own savory cornbread that he pulled out of the oven in a cast iron skillet.

"It was my mama's." He told me when I asked about it.

"You bake also?"

"Sometimes, if the mood hits me. I like making peach cobbler too. If you are lucky, I'll make you some. Maybe after our date."

"So sure of yourself, Chicken Fried. I hope you got some good shaving cream and a new razor, you'll need it." In his kitchen, I lifted the hem of my sundress clear up to my naked hip showing him that I was ready to win this bet of ours. His pupils blew out with lust as he stepped up to me.

"Princess, you are a hell of a tease. I have wanted you so badly ever since the first time we met." He breathed, lusty and hot. He pinned me to the counter, radiating his desire. He bit his lip, looking me up and down, he looked like he wanted to kiss me or maybe consume me whole. Suddenly he pulls away, leaving me breathless. "We will have company soon. I need to walk this off, but I really do want to continue this conversation when we don't have to risk being interrupted."

Before anyone could walk in on us, Syverson rushed up to me and kissed me more passionately. My knees buckle for a second and its like I've been set on fire.

When our friends came into his house, he set up bowls, spoons, Fritos and cheese. He set up blind tastings for the guests, only he and I knew what everyone was eating.

The canned chili was a flop. The restaurant chili was a better batch but it wasn't as good. When our friends tasted my chili, they all keep saying how wonderful it was.

Then we tried Sy's. Everyone was quiet for a moment and then the group started to try to figure out what it was about the chili that we didn't like. It was too sweet as far as I was concerned and there was a weird aftertaste. It was an overwhelming agreement that Sy's chili was terrible. After we cleaned up his kitchen, Sy was pouting about having lost.

"So, when would you like for me to shave my beard?"

"Maybe later tonight. I think we have to finish that conversation we started earlier."

"Oh yeah, California?" He said, standing close to me. He grabbed me by my hips and lifted me to the counter top. I lace my fingers through his beard hair and pull him closer so I can finally kiss him again. He broke away from the kiss and then started nibbling on my neck. His hand found the seem of my dress and he slid his hand up my thigh. When my skirt was pushed up to my hips exposing my sex to him, he leaned me back. I watched him look at my core and lick his lips like a man starved.

"Wait a second. Before you start, what was going on with your chili? Did you throw the bet?"

"No, not at all." He looked at me confused. "I don't know what happened, I've made this a bunch of times and its always been good. This was terrible."

"Did you do anything different?"

"Well. I was out of tomato paste, so I used ketchup. A buddy of mine suggested it."

"Oh my god, Sy. No wonder! Thank god you are pretty, my guy." I tease.

"Your guy? I like the way that sounds. Now lean back, Princess. I'm going to try to convince you to let me not shave."

[griffintail]

I watched this really cute anime movie about a deaf girl recently, and it gave me an idea I thought you might like!!

What if Tommy had a kid (how he came upon the child is irrelevant) who was deaf? Music, especially the discs are a big thing for Tommy, so it’d be a big adjustment for him to realize “Oh yeah, they can’t hear this”. He learns sign language with a LOT of help from others cause he wants to be able to communicate with his kid, and he and his kid sometimes gossip and tease people using sign language cause aside from a few basic signs, no one really knows what those two are talking about; well..maybe Tubbo knows, only cause he was the one Tommy spent the most time learning sign with.

Bonus, what if when his kid’s a little older they decide they wanna hear the discs their dad talks about, so they ask Uncle Techno to help them craft something akin to hearing aids; but y’know with magic and stuff. And when they hear their dad’s discs for the first time they cry cause it’s even better than they ever could have imagined??

I just, I like the fluffy stuff!!

- from, an Anon Who Probably Has Cavities From All This Sweetness🍬🍭🍫

To Hear

Summary: Tommy cares for a deaf, child (Y/N).

Pairings:  Parental! Platonic! Tommy x Deaf! Child! Reader

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Bruh, I was so excited to make this I did in a few hours. I have been thinking about this since you sent it in. I use some elements from Lost Ones but it’s soo not canon to my story.

*Any full sentences in Italics means they’re talking in Sign Language.*

 I hope you enjoy it ♥

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Tommy didn’t know.

        How was he supposed to?

        He’d never met anyone that was deaf and didn’t know the signs. (Y/N) was also a baby when he first got her, not exactly like she could go, hey, I can’t hear.

        So, he didn’t know for ages. He really didn’t know what he was doing raising a baby, so when she wasn’t talking by the age of one, he thought it could be a normal thing. He was worried but it could be normal! Babies weren’t super smart after all.

        It was Wilbur that figured it out.

        When he had come to visit his brother and found out he had a baby, of course, they sat down and had a serious talk about it, said baby still happily playing with her toys despite the yelling earlier. After Wilbur realized his brother wasn’t going to simply give up this child, especially after a year of work, he decided he might as well accept it. So, he went over to the child and sat next to her.

        “Hi (Y/N).” Wilbur smiled lightly.

        The child didn’t react though, having not noticed someone was next to her. Wilbur frowned slightly at this and put a hand on her arm, making her look at him now.

        “Hi, little lady.” He greeted her again.

        She made little babbles to him as she turned back to her toys.

        “What words does she know?” Wilbur asked curiously, a small smile on his face again as he remembered when Fundy was a child.

        “Uh, none yet. I can’t get her to say any. She likes making sounds but not much else.” Tommy admitted.

        Wilbur looked at him surprised and Tommy knew now that this wasn’t normal if Wilbur had that face.

        “You said she’s one, right?”

        “Y-Yeah.” He nodded nervously.

        His little girl wasn’t saying words and Wilbur looked concerned. Had he screwed up with his little one?

        Wilbur looked back at (Y/N) though, his mind at work.

        “(Y/N).” He said, but she once more didn’t look at him. “Tommy, does she ever respond to her name?”

        “I mean, sometimes. Not all the time.”

        “When she does respond, are you right in front of her?” Wilbur looked up at him.

        Tommy thought about it before nodding slowly. “Yeah.”

        “Does she ever get scared by your yelling? Or anyone’s yelling for that matter. Loud noises?”

        “Not really, w-what has this got to do with anything?” Tommy questioned.

        “…Tommy, I think (Y/N)’s deaf.”

        Tommy stood there for a moment before shaking his head. “No, no, you’re wrong. She makes noises and things like that. She wouldn’t make them if she couldn’t hear them. And-And we relax to my discs all the time, they calm her down.”

        Wilbur stood up, putting a hand gently on his brother’s shoulder. “She’ll still make sounds, but she won’t be able to form words, Tommy. She would have said any sort of word before now. She can also feel vibrations, they probably feel nice but she can’t hear any of it.”

        At the moment, Tommy couldn’t form words as he stared at his brother trying to deny what he said, but…it made sense. Tommy could never get her to respond to her name. She never really seemed to care when he’d try and teach her how to speak. When he and Tubbo were being loud, she never even flinched. Even a small moment when he had been shouting and swearing profanities when she was napping came to mind as he remembered she never even woke up to that.

        “My baby’s deaf.” He whispered. “What…I…God, how didn’t I notice?!”

        “Calm down Tommy.” Wilbur took both of Tommy’s shoulders. “You’re a smart kid and you’ve been doing this for a year. You can figure it out and I’ll help you with it. I’m sure Tubbo will too.”

        From there, it was a lot for Tommy to process. He had just gotten used to the fact he was taking care of a child; now he had to think several steps ahead and make sure he was ready when she got older. It was a shock to his best friend as well, that felt stupid too for not realizing it sooner, and they both took steps to figure it out.

        There were countless days where instead of going out and adventuring, Tubbo and Tommy practiced having sign language conversations with each other. Other days, Tommy would try and teach (Y/N) simple sign words so she could now start to ask for what she wanted. The relief he felt when she actually started to pick up was immeasurable. He nearly cried when she signed dad to him for the first time without him teaching her.

        When L’Manberg was starting to be formed, he made sure everyone within their walls knew how to talk basics with his child in case she needed anything from them. Tommy never liked leaving (Y/N) with anyone but himself and Tubbo and Wilbur, but when war came, things changed and he had to make sure his baby was being taken care of properly.

        Somethings that Tommy did became said with the new thought.

        Tommy still did his daily ritual with (Y/N), sitting with her and listening to a music disc. His heart broke a little each time now though as when they listened together, he realized every time before he was the only one listening to them. She couldn’t hear a single note. That frustrated him to no end some days as he wished his baby could hear such beautiful sounds but there was nothing, he could do to change it.

        Years went on. L’Manberg was independent from the Dream SMP, Wilbur and Tommy were in power, Tommy had one of his discs back from Dream from a little scam, and (Y/N) was eleven years old.

        “Can we go see Uncle Tubbo?” (Y/N) asked Tommy.

        “Yeah, in a bit. Got to finish writing this for Wilbur. Bitch is so lazy.” Tommy smirked before going back to writing.

        Wilbur looked over at the sounds of (Y/N)’s giggles.

        “What are you doing Tommy?” He asked his brother.

        “Nothing Wilbur,” Tommy called to him.

        “He’s president, tell him to get off his lazy arse.”

        Tommy had to put a hand over his mouth as Wilbur raised an eyebrow.

        “What did she just say? She was going too fast for me.”

        “Just a stupid joke Wilbur.” Tommy grinned as he gave (Y/N) a subtle thumbs up.

        The older man shook his head as he went back to his potions as Tommy finished writing. Putting the book away, Tommy nodded his head for the door of the van and both he and (Y/N) left. She wore her own L’Manberg uniform as they walked down the path towards Tubbo’s home.

        “It still sucks his old house is gone. I liked it.”

        “Yeah, but what are you going to do when you have a power-hungry green bitch?”

        (Y/N) giggled again as they got to Tubbo’s house, Tommy barging in.

        “Tubbo!” He called.

        Tubbo poked his head out from where he was gathering up a few things and smiled.

        “Hey, Tommy! Hey (Y/N).” Tubbo greeted them.

        “Hi, Uncle Tubbo. Did you get any new bees?”

        “I did, they’re with the rest of the hive. You can go see them, just don’t scare them.”

        “I know. I’ll be back dad!”

        Tommy gave her a salute and she was gone.

        “She been doing ok?” Tubbo asked.

        “Yeah, she’s been pretty good.” Tommy grinned. “She talked shit about Wilbur in front of him and it was pretty funny.”

        “I still can’t believe you taught her to swear.” Tubbo shook his head as he went back to his chests.

        “It’s hilarious! No one else knows what we’re saying but you!”

        “That’s because I learned with you. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t know either.” Tubbo reminded him. “Jack figure it out yet?”

        “No.” Tommy rolled his eyes.

        A few of the new members of L’Manberg and the Dream SMP struggled to remember (Y/N) was deaf and often startled her or would simply walk up to her and try and just simply talk. The little girl struggled with her deafness sometimes as she was different from everyone else. Tommy was always there to assure her though that she was fine the way she was.

        “But hey, I was thinking about how to get my disc back from Skeppy,” Tommy mentioned.

        “Oh yeah, what this time?” Tubbo asked.

        (Y/N) came back in smiling as Tommy and Tubbo were talking animatedly about their plan. She gave a simple clap to let them know she was there as she often did when she’d enter a room and no one noticed. They both looked over and motioned her over, talking about their plan instead in sign so she’d know what they were talking about.

        They were talking about the discs again and she frowned slightly. Her father loved playing discs when they were home and she liked feeling the music but she couldn’t help but always wonder what it was like to listen to what her father could hear. To know why he liked them so much that Dream would take them from him.

        A few months past and (Y/N) got herself a new uncle when he settled down close by to their homeland. Technoblade had come to see what his brothers were up to and decided to stick around for a while to see if their government got out of hand. (Y/N) wasn’t sure what that meant but she thought he was pretty cool.

        One of the coolest things was that he already knew rough sign language, having needed it for one of his travels. She thrilled for her father not have to teach someone once more the basics, instead Techno taught himself how to sign better and more advanced words so he could talk to her when she was around.

        She was around a decent bit of time.

        As Techno was now around, Tommy liked to spar with him and (Y/N) liked to watch her father’s skills at work. Alongside that, Techno told her a few stories about his travels or just stories with the sign he taught himself. He often also lent her books for her to read in her spare time.

        Tommy had never felt more grateful for his oldest brother.

        Sure, he couldn’t talk shit around Techno because he’d know what he was saying, but seeing (Y/N) smile to be able to talk to someone else made up for it.

        Today though, (Y/N) had to ask Techno for a favor. All of the boys and her were at Wilbur’s to just have some family time, so now was the perfect time.

        “Hey Techno.” (Y/N) stood nervously in front of him as Tommy was arguing with Wilbur in the kitchen.

        “Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow as he watched her.

        “You know how to do enchantments and stuff right?”

        “Yeah, I do quite a bit of it.”

        “Are you really good at it?”

        “I’d say so, why?”

        “I want to hear.”

        Techno leaned back in his seat watching her. She looked rather passionate about hearing.

        “Why?”

        She hesitated to move her hands. “Dad really likes his discs and I just.” She paused. “I want to hear what they’re like, even for a few moments to have something more with him.”

        Techno gave a small smile as he nodded. “Yeah, alright. I’ll work on something when I get home. You got to go into the kitchen right now though and curse Wilbur out.”

        “Easy! Deal!”

        A few moments later, Tommy was dying of laughter as Techno smirked in his seat as Wilbur demanded to know what (Y/N) was saying. Wilbur knew he should have been getting more lessons from Techno.

        It took Techno a few days but he managed to get small devices enchanted to hear for a few hours.

        “It’d take me a lot more work to get permanent hearing. That’s a long project and I’d need some help. But these will work for a few hours before they bug out.” Techno told her as she held them in her hands, having taken her to “watch her”.

        “Thank you so much Techno.”

        “It’s what I do. And I guess you can start calling me Uncle.”

        She grinned before putting the devices in her ears. For a moment, there was nothing, but that was because Techno made sure they were in a quiet place so she wasn’t overwhelmed. He waited before speaking.

        “So?”

        She jumped at the sound before smiling widely.

        “I can hear!”

        “Great, let’s go see Tommy.” He said as he signed along with his words.

        She wouldn’t know what each word would sound like, that would take more than a few hours, so she’d still have to see sign but that wasn’t the purpose of Techno’s work. They walked back to Tommy’s base and Techno knocked on the door as (Y/N) was looking around in amazement. Tommy flung the door open, grinning to see (Y/N) was already back.

        “You bored her already?” Tommy laughed, (Y/N) looking over as she smiled at the sound of her father’s voice.

        “No, I only needed her to see if what I made actually worked,” Techno told him as they went into the house.

        “And what the hell is that?” Tommy asked as he looked at (Y/N) as Techno’s back was turned. “How stupid was it?”

        (Y/N) giggled. “You sound pretty cool dad.”

        Tommy frowned, confused, as Techno leaned on a wall. “What does that mean?”

        “Uncle Techno helped enchant devices that let me hear for a few hours.”

        Tommy stood frozen for a moment before he snapped his head to Techno.

        “Is she serious?” He asked.

        “Dead serious.” Techno nodded.

        Tommy looked at (Y/N) and grinned, hugging her tightly.

        “You can hear!” He laughed, making (Y/N) cringe. “Oops, right. You’re not used to that.”

        “I’m ok.” She told him figuring he was feeling guilty.

        “She won’t understand words, remember.” Techno reminded his brother.

        “Right.” Tommy nodded. “There’s so many sounds you should hear. I don’t know where to start!”

        “Well, I asked Uncle Techno so I could hear your discs.”

        Tommy’s eyes went wide before he grinned taking (Y/N)’s hand and pulling her to the jukebox outside.

        “Wait right here.” He instructed her as he rushed back inside, Techno coming out lazily with a smile.

        Tommy ran back with a familiar purple and white-colored disc. He rested it on the jukebox before speaking to (Y/N).

        “This is Mellohi. It’s the disc I gave to Dream before I got it back. One of the discs I played for you all the time when you were a baby before I knew and even after. This is one of our discs.”

        Tommy picked up the disc again, taking a deep breath before putting it on. He sat next to (Y/N) on the bench as the song started to play. (Y/N) sat in amazement as she felt the familiar vibrations but also heard the sound it made. Tommy had such a wide smile as he wiped the corner of his eyes of tears as he watched (Y/N)’s reaction to one of their discs.

        She begged him to put on another and Tommy gladly brought out the rest of his collection, Techno having long ago left to see his mission accomplished. They spent those hours they had listening to their discs, Tommy telling Tubbo at one point and the other boy joining the two of them. The trio sat there until the enchantment ran out, but Tommy couldn’t be happier.

        His baby had heard their discs and he swore to himself that he’d help Techno with whatever he needed to make it permanent.

[scarletwidowaf]

Imagine that no power AU where Natasha falls for this cute artsy girl and slowly finds out (to her horror) that Wanda's not just some random artsy crafts girl who plays guitar, but the (adopted) Granddaughter of the owner of the company Natasha works for. As in oh, oh no, that's Carter's grandbaby, Carter's gonna kill me.

baby carter

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff (scarlet widow \ wandanat)

warnings: cursing? Terrible grammar and writing maybe because my brain's having hard time.

A\N: soft scarlet widow- Natasha being awkward and charming and Wanda being absolutely adorable. also, I honestly don't know what I feel bout it - I think it's kinda messy especially compared to my latest work.

words: idk... a lot? 

masterlist

Natasha's been working in carter's Law Firm for almost 3 years now, slowly climbing up the company's hierarchical food chain, yet not enough to get the well-deserved promotion she was aching to get.

Not that she was ungrateful, hell no. not long after she graduated she got the job in carter's, which was one of the best and strongest law firms in the market. This means that not only that she found herself working alongside some of the best lawyers in the world, she truly couldn't complain about the paycheck she was getting every month.

Natasha wasn't ungrateful, but she was driven and she knew she was great at her job, hell, she was the best young lawyer in her class, yet, after 3 years in the firm, she was still working under Coulson. Which naturally means, she did a lot of dirty work instead of representing her own cases. Working with Coulson was great, really, the man was nice, sweet, a bit nerdy at times, and of course, such a great lawyer. Looking back, Natasha should give him credit for many things she achieved in the last 3 years, and one of them was meeting the love of her life- the one and only Wanda Maximoff.

One Thursday evening, as she was just finishing up some paperwork at the firm's office in New York, she got a call from Coulson, who let her know they were cutting the day short following personal constraints.

Instead of going straight home to rest after the brutal week, as she probably should've done, she decided to text Steve and Tony to see if they were free. luckily for her, her two best friends were willing to sacrifice any plans they had for this fine Thursday night, to celebrate the rare occasion of Natasha getting out of the firm before 8 pm.

The bar steve chose was nice, rather quiet and chill. Naturally, tony didn't seem to be a fan of the blonde's choice, but since it was Steve's turn to choose a place there wasn't much he could've done about it.

"We should sit near the stage" Steve said as he spotted an empty table at the other side of the bar, near the stage.

"What's wrong with you rogers? Do you want us to sit near the stage where random people will try to squick their hearts out to a Celine Dion song?" Tony sneered out, his eyes shooting daggers at the blonde as they sat.

"It's not a karaoke bar, tony" Natasha defended steve's choice.

"Yeah, this bar hosts young talented artists, I think it's awesome and refreshing" the blonde explained.

"I still hate it" tony said.

"We don't care" Natasha said as a waitress came to the table.

Over an hour and a half later, 3 performances were over and two bawls of fries as well, the next artist got onto the stage.

The woman was young, probably younger than Natasha, and beautiful.

She was dressed rather simply compared to the other artists, just a plain white T and an old pair of skinny jeans.

Natasha noticed that some strands of her dark brown hair got stuck under her red guitar's strap.

The woman was smiling nervously as she introduced herself to the crowd and Natasha couldn't help but send her an encouraging small smile.

Surprisingly for her, the woman smiled back.

Tony and steve noticed it as well and they exchanged knowing looks.

The singer's voice was almost as beautiful as her.

Her fingers softly strumming on the frets- as almost as it was second nature, while her soft angelic voice filled the room, sending chills through Natasha's body.

Natasha smiled when she noticed how quiet the bar became, everyone seemed to be enchanted by the young singer.

When the singer finished her preference she smiled brightly to the audience, who cheered for her loudly- as she deserved, and got off the stage.

Natasha noticed the poor singer who was supposed to try and top her incredible performance. He seemed miserable.

"Earth to nat!?" Tony waved his hand in front of Natasha. The redhead blinked twice before tearing her attention from the singer and to her friends.

Steve was smiling at her, his eyes glittering in enthusiasm, while tony smirked at her with raised eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, what?" She asked.

Steve laughed and tony sigh.

"We said that she was really good" the blonde explained

"Not that you haven't noticed it, you've been practically drooling," Tony said.

"I was not" she defended herself

"You were," he said. "But we don't judge you Romanoff, its natural, she was pretty and you didn't get laid in a while. Plus- You always had a thing for the innocent looking ones" he explained and Natasha sent him her dirtiest glare.

If a look could kill tony stark would've been dead by now.

"Okay first, I wasn't drooling. Second, fuck you"

"Nice comeback" tony taunted her with a smirk, knowing full well he wasn't completely wrong.

"You should ask her out. You seem to like her"

Steve smiled at her and Natasha knew he meant it- he was was always the sweetest one of the three.

"Fancy her" tony corrected steve.

"She Like her" steve raised his eyebrow at his friend.

"Fancy" tony taunted

"Li-" steve was about to argue again until Natasha cut the stupid argument off.

"Fuck off you too," she said and waved to the waiter, hoping that another beer might make the two less annoying.

When the waiter didn't come, Natasha got frustrated, her two friends started to argue over another idiotic thing: steve's lack of love life and tony's girlfriend's lack of taste In men.

"I'm gonna get a refill," she said as she got up. The two sent her quick okays before getting back to their bickering.

When Natasha approached the bar she noticed a familiar face.

The singer was sitting in front of the bar's counter with a glass of mojito. She seemed to be having a polite conversation with the bartender.

"Hey, I'm sorry to interrupt but can I have a refill?" Natasha asked the bartender. The man smiled at her and nodded before he replaced her empty cup with a new one.

The singer smiled at her softly again- Natasha smiled nervously at her.

"I'm Natasha" Natasha said awkwardly to the girl, her cheeks flushed.

Wanda smiled back at her "hey Natasha, I'm Wanda" Wanda, the singer said as she held out her hand for a handshake.

Natasha took her hand, praying to whatever god exist that her hand wasn't sweaty.

'What's wrong with me?' She thought as she mentally faces palmed herself.

"I liked your performance," Natasha said and Wanda smiled at her.

Natasha smiled back, happy she had the privilege to be the reason the singer smiled.

"Thank you" wanda thanked her.

"I saw you at the front line," Wanda said and Natasha nodded.

"Yeah, my friend likes this place. He chose the table" she admitted.

"That's nice, I'm guessing it's your first time in here"

"Yeah, it is actually. Was I that obvious?" Natasha joked and Wanda laughed.

"Just a little bit," Wanda said with a smile "what do you think about it so far?"

"It's really nice, honestly" Natasha admitted.

"Yeah, I think that as well. I come here often with my cousin and brother but its the first time I was on stage"

"Well, you were great. Seriously. You were" she started before gazing at the stage briefly, catching the sight of the young singer who went up after Wanda. "sorry, are- the best singer" she continued and Wanda blushed.

"Thank you it means a lot"

"Anytime," Natasha said back

"I should really go... It was lovely meeting you Natasha." Wanda said as she checked the time, a small frown on her lips.

"You too," Natasha said.

Wanda nodded at her before getting up and turning around from Natasha to pull her guitar.

when Natasha took a small sip from her beer she catches the bartender's eye.

The guy was giving her the 'are you kidding me?!' look- who was a well-known look she was familiar with from years of friendship with tony.

"Hey Wanda-" Natasha said to Wanda, who was about to walk away. The singer turned back around with a small confused smile.

"Yeah?" She asked

"Would you like to, maybe, I don't know.. go out sometime?" Natasha stuttered.

'Did I just fucking stuttered!?' She mentally kicked herself.

"Yeah.. id like that" Wanda said with a smile. The brunette took a pen out of her jeans pocket and scribble something on Natasha's arm.

"Call me," Wanda said with a smile before she smiled at the bartender, who tried to look busy with anything but them.

"Bye bucky" she laughed at his antics and left.

Natasha looked up from the scrabble on her hand, who was- of course Wanda's number with a small heart at the bottom, and exchange looks with bucky the bartender.

"That went well, right?" She asked him dumbfounded and he laughed before handing her a shot glass with vodka.

"Yeah it did.. friendly advice, don't fuck it up" he said as passed her a slice of lemon.

Natasha downed the shot, nodded at him as she took her beer, and left the lemon on the counter. Her legs taking her back to her table. both of her friends were staring at her with wide eyes.

"Hell yeah Romanoff!" Tony said excitedly.

Natasha smiled at tony before looking at steve with a chuckle "the bartender is your type" she said as she set.

Steve gave her a 'are you kidding me look before his eyes traveled from her to the bartender at the bar.

----------------------ᱬ----------------------

Not long after Natasha and Wanda met again, a few times actually. 10 minutes into their first date, Natasha knew she was in trouble.

Wanda was completing Natasha on almost every level she thought about.

Wanda was carefree and dorky as Natasha was a stressed workaholic.

Wanda liked homemade meals and cooking while Natasha was practically living on boxed mac and cheese or takeout.

Natasha loved to binge movies and random tv shows into the night while Wanda liked getting up early to watch the sunrise.

Wanda loved fruity alcoholic drinks while Natasha preferred it clean.

Wanda was a splash of color in Natasha's black and white life.

Not long after, Natasha asked wanda to be her girlfriend- it happened in a month and a half after their first meeting as the two women laid in Wanda's bed, naked and sweaty with their limbs intertwined.

She could've done it more romantic, but both girls truly couldn't give a damn about it.

Wanda's apartment was incredible.

The studio apartment was big and bright.

The apartment's walls color was cream and the tall window frames were covered with white curtains.

In the beginning, Natasha didn't really understand why wanda even bother to use these curtains since the sun would light the room either way, (she found out about this terrible trait when she first stayed over and found herself awake and cursing under her breath at 7 am) But, luckily for her, Natasha learned rather fast why the younger girl's windows where ALWAYS covered. It was simple, really.

Wanda had this habit to walk around the apartment half-naked, or completely naked on better days, and as much as Natasha was grateful for that (and she was), she truly wasn't the one to share, especially not the image of her naked girlfriend as she walked around the apartment or squirmed under her touch on the bed- or anywhere they chose, really.

"Nat?" Wanda whispered softly as she was playing with her sleepy girlfriend's hair and spread soft kisses on her back.

"Hm?" Natasha hummed, half asleep.

"There's something I need to tell you" Wanda said softly. Her voice barely a whisper.

"Is everything okay, baby?" Natasha asked as she turned around to face the taller woman.

Natasha's eyebrows were tightened together in worry and Wanda couldn't help but kiss her on the nose.

"Yeah" she whispered and Natasha waited patiently for her to continue "it's just that.. there's something I need to tell you... about my family"

"Okay.." Natasha encouraged her to continue.

"My family-" she started, but got cut off by Natasha's phone buzzing on the nightstand.

"Fuck" Natasha cursed before turning around to check who it was- and if she can ignore it.

The name on the screen was definitely a sight she could not ignore.

"Just a second baby, it's my boss" she said as she pulled herself up to answer the phone. by doing so, Natasha missed wanda's guilty lip bite.

----------------------ᱬ----------------------

That's how things went for another month. In this month Natasha got the promotion she wanted which meant she was enthusiastic for days later- and Wanda couldn't bear the thought of ruining it for her.

And that's how it went overtime.

Every time Wanda manage to muster enough courage to tell Natasha whatever she wanted to say, something happened and ruined it.

But jean Racine was indeed right: 'there are no secrets that time does not reveal', and unfortunately for both women, wanda's secret got revealed in a rather unpleasant and awkward situation.

It was a pretty normal day for Natasha.

Or at least it started as one. she spent the night at Wanda's again, which means she had a hard time leaving bed in the morning but she managed it so now, a few hours later, she was having lunch at a deserted meeting room with a few friends from the office

"hey, nat.. is that your girlfriend??" Sam asked, his eyes following a girl who passes near the glass door.

"Wanda?" Natasha asked him confused.

They weren't supposed to meet today for lunch, didn't they?

"Do you have another girlfriend I'm not aware of?" He asked

"Shut up Wilson, why would Wanda be here!?"

"I don't know Romanoff, she's your girlfriend. All I can say is that she seemed to be in a deep conversation with Sharon"

"Carter?"

"the one and only" Carol whispered and Gamora rolled her eyes at the girl.

"Will you stop being weird?" Gamora asked and Carol shook her head.

"Why would she have a conversation with Sharon fucking Carter" Natasha asked confused

"Maybe you should ask her...?” the man asked

"Oh shit I think they're coming over here, pretend to be busy," Carol said as she dived back into her salad.

The others do the same as well.

A few moments later the glass door was pulled open by Sharon.

Her smile wide.

"Hey guys" Sharon said as she opened the door and git into the room, wanda following behind-

Probably unaware of her girlfriend's presence until moments later when their eyes met.

Wanda looked like she was about to die.

"Wanda?" Natasha asked. Her eyebrows knitted together.

"Wait, You know each other?" Sharon asked as she turned to the brunette

"Yeah-" she started

"How do you guys know each other" Natasha cut her girlfriend off. Her eyes were still wide with confusion.

"We're cousins" the blonde explained and Wanda bit her lip.

Natasha stared at her girlfriend, hoping to get an explanation from her.

"Wait how do you to know each other"

"She's my girlfriend," Wanda said softly as Natasha got up from her chair.

Sharon's eyes were wide "didn't see that coming" she muttered

"Tell me about that" Natasha said, more to her girlfriend than to her boss.

"I'm going out for a smoke," she said simply before leaving the room.

"Nat-" Wanda started as she followed her, leaving the other remaining members of the room confused.

"Really?" Sharon asked again.

"Well, that was something," sam said and gamora nodded.

"That's classic," Carol said as she quietly laughed to herself

Meanwhile, at the elevator, things were going less smoothly for the couple.

"You're my boss's niece and you didn't think about telling me this?" Natasha shot at Wanda as the elevator door opened and the two went outside.

"I was trying to tell you, nat. I swear. That was the thing I tried to tell you about this whole month But every time I tried to something happened" Wanda explained as Natasha lit her cigarette.

"Why didn't you say anything when we started dating and got to know each other?" Natasha asked.

The lawyer wasn't sure if she was more hurt by the fact Wanda kept this secret from her or terrified by the fact she was dating her boss's niece

"Because I didn't want you to look at me the way you look at me right now" Wanda defended herself.

"How do I look at you wanda?" Natasha asked hurt.

"Like I'm no longer the same artsy girl you met at the bar" Wanda whispered

Natasha laughed bitterly

"Come on Wanda you know I don't give a shit about it. I love you and the fact you're a carter won't change it. You are the same artsy girl from the bar, who happened to be my boss's nephew. You should've said something."

"You're right, I shouldn't have kept this away from you. It was destined to get out eventually and the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you" Wanda took the cigarette out of Natasha's lips.

"I made a mistake and I can't change it."

Wanda continued and Natasha sigh

"I wanted you to know me, and I was scared you'll judge me or see me as a carter like most people do."

Wanda put her hand on Natasha's cheek and Natasha kissed her palm, encouraging her to continue her speech.

"Fuck, nat, I'm not even in this business- yeah they're my family but that's it. the only other connection I have to this firm is the fact I'm in love with one of its lawyers" Natasha's eyes lit up and Wanda blushed furiously.

"You're in love with me?" Natasha asked as she played pulled her girlfriend closer, A small cocky smile on her lips as Wanda rolled her eyes

"For someone so fucking smart you can be so dense sometimes," Wanda said and Natasha laughed "Of course I do moron."

"I love you too," Natasha said before kissing Wanda softly on the lips.

"Can you forgive me, then?"

"It depends," Natasha said with the best poker straight face she could muster.

"On?" Wanda asked with her eyebrow raised.

"Is there any other relative- who can fire my ass, I need to know about?"

Wanda smiled kissed Natasha's lips deeply.

"No!" She said when they broke away and the two laughed.

Natasha wiped away the younger woman's tears before kissing her lips again. This time softly.

"Good, now if you don't mind maximoff. My break's over and I should really get back before your cousin will fire my ass"

"Well technically.. she's my cousin in law, I'm peggy's grandchild, adopted one, and she's her nephew" Wanda explained

"Can she fire my ass?" Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well.. yeah..?"

"Then my point still stands.

"Shut up Romanoff! you and I both know Sharon won't' fire your ass' because you're the best lawyer in this damn place" wanda argued

"Who fucks her cousin..-"

"You're right.. she might fire you" wanda joked and took her girlfriend's hand in hers.

"Or murder me" Natasha continued as her girlfriend pulled her back into the building and to the elevator.

"Yeah" Wanda laughed when they got into the elevator and the doors closed.

Wanda kissed Natasha's lips softly before pressing the button of their destined floor. "Or murder you"

[moonlit-imagines]

Way Down We Go

Arvin Russell x fem!reader

warnings: well, just about everything from the movie is mentioned, death/murder/suicide, (non-descriptive) sex, pregnancy mention,

a/n: im begging you to read this in a southern accent - i did change it up JUST a little i hope thats okay (y/n was just w/ arvin when he did some of the stuff he did)

prompt: anonymous: “uhm, oneshot for being arvin russell’s girlfriend and him coming back for you after he kills the sergeant? and maybe you two run away and get married and name your first kid after lenora?”

Soon enough, you and Arvin needed to split from your boyfriend’s hometown, Knockemstiff. He’d just shot down the sheriff and you weren’t sure if any authorities were going to believe your story. You two had to run.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. ‘Shoulda never got you involved in any ‘a this.” Arvin was beating himself up as the two of you dragged your feet on the side of the road, hoping you’d find a less murderous ride along the way.

“Don’t you dare apologize, Arvin. They all had it comin’ and you know I wasn’t gonna let you go off alone.” You halted your step in the grass and grabbed your boyfriend by the bicep, forcing him to stop, as well. He hesitated to turn around and look you in the eye, but when he slowly did, you could see tears brimming in his eyes. You’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want to do the same, but someone needed to have a level head right now, and after everything Arvin just had to do, you were prepared to take that responsibility. “Baby, we’re gonna be fine, I just know it.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” He mumbled as the tears began to flow. Your hands found themselves gliding up his dirty arms and shirt, finally reaching his clenched jaw and helping him to relax. “You’re so good to me an’ I just made our lives so much harder.”

“So we start somewhere new, okay? We’ll take a ride with someone on the interstate, make it to Georgia or Florida. I’ve been hearin’ some good things ‘bout Florida, they’ve got it all.” Arvin nearly cracked a smile at your optimism, he never knew how you’d be able to find light such a dark situation.

“I was thinkin’ about doing what my daddy did all them years ago.” He mumbled to you, as if he were unsure about going down that path.

“You gon’ keep on going or leave me hangin’ over here? You never talk about your father, tell me something new.” You pushed on, finally getting a smile out of him as the two of you continued your trek away from trouble.

“Well, he met a girl, fell in love, settled down far from home...” Arvin told you, trying to remember wha his mother’s face looked like.

“You’ve done two ‘a those things so far, go on.” You laced your fingers through his and gently swung your arms back and forth with each step.

“They started a family.” He said, looking up at the cloudy sky. Almost as if he could see the two looking back down at him. “A family could be nice. Maybe a dog, too. Jack really was man’s best friend.”

“I could see us doin’ that. We just gotta find the right place and we’re as good as gold.” You nudged Arvin with your elbow and he forgot all about the heinous scenes he’d left in the hours before, all that was on his mind now was what your future may look like. And to him, it looked amazing. Maybe you two could put the past few weeks behind you and just be happy again. No more pain, no more fear, just love for one another.

“We’re gonna be okay, huh?” Arvin asked, knowing already that you’d agree. A good deal of time went by before any cars passed by, but sooner or later a Volkswagen slowed down beside you and let you hop in. You knew hippies were a little weird, but they loved peace more than anything on this planet. Your odds were pretty good, so you climbed right inside and took a seat in the back, making conversation with the driver while Arvin got some much-needed shut eye.

“So, where are you two lovebirds heading?” The long-haired man asked, thankfully snapping you out of a daze consisting of dropped bodies and images you may never get out of your head.

“Oh, nowhere in particular. Just south.” You nodded along with your answer and the hippie chuckled, liking the answer you gave him.

“Looking to get a little lost? I like it.” You were distracted by his long hair flying around with the window cracked open just a bit.

“Yeah, I guess we are. We were thinking Florida would be a nice place to go, ever been?” You sparked a bit of conversation.

“Definitely! ‘The Sunshine State,’ doesn’t that have a nice ring to it? You guys’ll love it, I’m tellin’ ya.” The man’s enthusiasm was no joke, you needed the upbeat attitude he gave you, though. For a while longer, you talked about travel and this mystery man’s eventful life, it gave you hope that this new life you were about to start wouldn’t be as scary as you were thinking.

—————

Arvin woke up from yet another nightmare, it seemed like it would never end. It’d been four damn years since you two had left Knockemstiff and ended up in a little town by the name of “Palatka.” It was home and it was just the way you liked it.

“Hey, hey? I’m right here, Arvin. We’re safe.” You raised your hand and placed it on his bare, sweating chest as it rasised and fell from his panting. His eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and he saw the concern on your face while he just stared back at you. “You alright there, hun?”

“Yeah...” Arvin sighed, wishing that he’d stop seeing the faces of the people he’d shot down all those years before, they always seemed to haunt him in his sleep. He leaned back against the wooden headboard he’d crafted himself and reached his hand out for yours. “Sorry, darlin’, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Your husband’s thumb trailed over the back of your right hand.

“It’s alright, I was just about to go check on Lenora anyways.” You gave him a kiss on the forehead and threw the covers off of yourself, swinging your legs off the side of the bed so you could get your slippers on. You shuffled out of your bedroom and across the squeaky floorboards, reaching the door of your daughter’s bedroom. Slowly cracking the door open, you tiptoed inside and found Lenora, still sound asleep in her bed.

She was a good namesake to her daddy’s late sister, you know she would’ve loved to meet her niece. What a shame it was, but at least you honored her memory the way you did. It was Arvin’s idea, after all. God, she looked so much more like Arvin every single day. You couldn’t help but smile as she let out a little moan while stretching in her sleep. And you couldn’t believe you created that, you were a mother with the man you loved most.

You made a stop in the kitchen real quick so that you could get your husband a glass of water, then went back on to your room. Arvin was now sitting there with his bedside lamp on, swiveling his head towards you as you came back inside and closed the door. “Water?”

“Please.” He reached out and grabbed the glass. “Thank you, y/n.” Arvin said into the glass before taking a sip and setting in down on the bare wood of the nightstand.

“Ahem.” You cleared your throat and cocked an eyebrow, leaving Avrin puzzled. “Coaster.”

“Right, sorry.” He lifted his glass up and put it on the coaster directly next to it. “There we go.” He told himself. You crawled back into bed and scooted closer to your husband, leaning your head on his shoulder and draping your arm across his body. He gently rubbed his rough, working hands over your upper arm and gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead. “How was Lenora?”

“She’s still asleep, thankfully.” You answered with a hopeful little smirk. Your daughter obviously wasn’t a sleeping angel every night.

“That sure is news.” He traced his finger back up your arm and to your chin, guiding it to move up so that you could face him. He placed his lips to yours and drew back ever-so-slightly. “You wanna fuck while we have a chance?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered and he had spent no extra time jumping on top of you and getting right to work. Before becoming a parent, he never stopped to think about how he’d absolutely have to find the right time to do what he wanted, because the rest of that time was dedicated to caring for his kid in one way, shape or form. In the end, he didn’t mind a bit. Being a father and a husband were two things he’d loved more than life itself and he hoped that his parents would be proud of the man he’d become. But right now he just wanted to spend some time with his loving wife, and that’s that.

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm //

[giorno-plays-piano]

Money, Money, Money Part 1

Pairing: mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader, slight Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: lots of swearing, silly drunk mobs, mentions of alcoholism, parody, Peter is adult, is this a crack fic??

Words: 2578.

Summary: When Steve finds out somebody has stolen their money, Bucky realizes he has to take his ass off the leather couch in his office, finally.

P.S. This is my first attempt to write humor and I’m sorry in advance for everything I’ve written here 😅

_________________

“BITCH, DID I STUTTER WHEN I SAID TO KEEP THAT SAFE CLOSED AT ALL TIMES?”

Allyson massaged her temples softly and let out a groan: if Mr. Rogers continued to yell like that, he would definitely choke soon. This morning he had been pretending to be the death, vengeance and fury, ready to kick the ass of her immediate superior, James Barnes, who acted like he was deaf, unable to pull himself from the couch where he slept after getting drunk as a fish last night. Oh, poor Bucky. Apparently, he fucked things up again if Mr. Rogers stormed into his office like he was getting chased by a 200-pound dog.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you son of a...” glancing at a pouting man-child with a three-day beard, Steve covered his face with his palm and let out an exasperated sigh, “... respectable woman who would die of shame if she saw you now!”

“Come on, Stevie,” the man yawned, finally moving his huge, muscular body up to sit instead of just laying on the couch since he felt a little guilty Steve was getting all riled up while he just chilled, “why so serious? Yeah, somebody took a bit of cash from the safe, it’s not a big deal.”

Allyson heard everything as if they were speaking right in front of her - Bucky was a real Mr. Cheapo who didn’t want to rent an office with decent walls - and quickly closed her ears, wishing she had taken her earplugs today. Her boss just made a grave mistake, and now both of them were going to pay for it with their eardrums.

“NOT A BIG DEAL? NOT A BIG DEAL, YOU MASSIVE BAG OF DOUCHE?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY WAS THERE, HUH?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THOSE MONEY WERE FOR?!”

Seriously, she considered getting a new job, but these free daily standup shows were both tiring and so fucking funny she was afraid she might wet her seat.

“Oh my fucking God, Bucky, I swear I’ll kill you, I’ll... no, I have a better idea!” Steve gave his best friend a dirty look. “I’ll call your uncle. Yeah, you know which one. He’ll be sooo happy to take you drunk ass to jail and then give your mama a call. I bet she has a cure for both your attitude and alcoholism.”

“You wouldn’t do that!”

Suddenly realizing the danger he was in, Bucky quickly got up, almost falling to the floor but holding on the leather chair in the very last second. When Steve talked about calling his uncle, a chief of police of the neighboring town where his whole family lived, it meant things were going bad. Real bad.

“Bucky, it was the part we were going to invest into Pierce’s casino. I have to take it to him tomorrow morning. TOMORROW FUCKING MORNING, DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU STINKING DRUNK?”

“I’m drunk but not deaf, Steve!”

“Oh my God, I’m driving you to a rehab, go gather your stuff right now!”

Allyson sighed, getting up and proceeding to choose the most beautiful cup to fill it with fresh coffee: when their conflicts escalated to threats, it meant her boss would soon start to sweet-talk, apologizing to his best friend and promising to sober up and get things right. Every time she felt like Mr. Rogers would really do something to Bucky, the guy used his natural charisma and charm and got away with anything by just reminding Steve how he fought for his best friend in the dark alleys when Rogers was a sick, skinny kid. It worked every damn time.

There they were again, talking about same things with Bucky swearing on his mother’s life that he will find the money and bring it back to Steve. Usually it meant the threats were coming to an end, and soon Mr. Rogers would open the door and come out red as a lobster, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. There he would see her with a cup of nice coffee with cream and two spoons of sugar just like he preferred, gladly accepting it and saying nobody understand him but her. Then Allyson would smile compassionately, listen to his small talk before he went out the office, and wait until her grumpy boss would fall out the room, reeking alcohol, and ask her what the fuck had happened yesterday.

After that in a couple of minutes things would finally settle down, and Allyson would have a chance to give a call to her best friend.

_______________________________

Your day couldn’t start better: you had finally received your Amazon order - hooray to the stupid makeup tools you would use, like, once a year - and even watched your favorite Netflix series with a cup of a fragrant coffee with marshmallows because it was Sunday and you were finally free from both work and cleaning the apartment. It felt so nice to just do absolutely nothing, laying on your couch with a piece of pizza in your hand. Seriously, even a workaholic like you had to do it more often.

Your lazy morning was interrupted by Peter, a sweet college student who was getting into troubles more often than a drunk in a local bar: you seriously considered calling him Harry Potter after you found him half-naked with a scratch on his forehead standing in the corridor of your building and holding a broom. To protect himself from bullies, he said, by the look on his face you could tell it was as good as a magic wand against 6"4 ft tall guys, seriously.

Since he rented an apartment with other unlucky nerds who had zero skills how to survive in this cruel world, you ended up nearly baby-sitting Peter, patching him up after he was getting in a fight and lending him some money time after time when he struggled to pay rent or buy food. His parents were elderly people with income below average, but they still did whatever they could to give him an education, so you decided to give the guy a hand.

Now that baby was standing in front of you, lit up like a Christmas tree, with a bouquet of wonderful pink roses, big box of hand-crafted chocolates and a whole bag of what looked like some very fine food, even a bottle of champagne clinking inside.

"Good morning, Fairy Godmother! I came to bring back what I owe you!" His smile was a mile wide when he looked at your face, happy to the point he couldn't stand still, dancing like those Duracell rabbits in the tv ad.

"You're up early, Cinderella."

You yawned, laughing when you saw the guy pouting at the nickname you gave him - tf he expected for calling you Fairy Godmother?

"Don't stand there, come in."

When he actually handed you the flowers and chocolates, giving you a quick peck on the cheek shyly, you froze, finally realizing he brought all this for you. Wait, what? Where the heck did he get so much money to buy that expensive stuff? You thought he was helping his other neighbor who was planning to finally propose to his girlfriend. Perplexed to the point you nearly missed that peck, you blinked at tomato red Peter.

"Please don't tell me you robbed your 90-year-old paralytic professor."

"Why don't you ask if I robbed a bank?" He pouted again, putting the bag on the floor and getting a hundred dollar banknote out of his old leather wallet. "I actually came to thank you for everything you've done for me. And I didn't rob anyone! I got a real job!"

"Real job?" You eyed him curiously. "But don't you already have a job in delivery?"

"Pfft, you can't call it a job. It was getting one nasty smelling pizza from one place to the other while looking miserable."

You barely held your laugh, leaving the bouquet and chocolates on the side table and rubbing guy's back. Poor Peter, nobody was giving him a hand - while you couldn't question people's decision since the guy wasn't the most reliable one, it was still a shame he wasn't treated decently as if all of them weren't young and careless once.

Wait, but who on Earth gave him such a well-paid job all of a sudden? He must have spent hundreds of dollars on the bouquet, chocolates, food and champagne, not even counting those 100 dollars he owed.

Oh God.

"Please don't tell me you're working for some shady business." You looked at him in horror, your hand flying to your mouth. "Peter, is it Tony's band?!"

"Jesus woman, why would I work for some stupid mob." The guy rolled his eyes, and you sighed in relief, not knowing what to except from this trouble on two skinny legs. “I’m telling you, it’s nothing bad! I just have to keep it a secret before I get a contract. Once I figure it out, I’ll explain everything, I swear!”

“Alright, alright, don’t stress over it, I’m not your Ma.” Smirking, you went to take a square glass vase you hadn’t use in ages, filling it with water to drop the bouquet inside. “Let’s celebrate it, then! Woah, careful there, give me that bottle until you drop it on my clean floor, I’ve been scrubbing it for hours yesterday!”

_______________________

Bucky still felt like Steve was making too much of a big deal out of it: obviously, it was Tony who went to him at night when Bucky was already drunk like a monkey, celebrating the birth of Clint’s daughter. Nobody else had the courage to steal from him, Steve’s right hand, an ex-soldier who had a reputation of a man killing with the first punch. Not that Bucky ever killed anybody, actually being a ex-trumpet in an army band...

Anyway, the man was heading over to Stark’s Tower, a motel where he and all his guys lived when his wife Pepper was out of town. Pepper had definitely been out of town lately since Tony didn’t call: when she was coming back, Steve and Tony were having a two-day truce with nobody getting in a fight because it was making Mrs. Stark upset, and when she was upset, both Steve and Tony didn’t risk getting out of their holes to face this enraged blonde woman who could make anyone wet themselves with one her glance. If there were anyone killing with just one punch in the town, it got to be Pepper.

As he got closer in his Cadillac that looked like it went through fire and water before being sold to Bucky, Barnes stared at the motel suspiciously: it was strangely quiet with everyone hiding inside, not a man guarding the motel’s entrance. What the hell happened? Tony loved showing off, pretending he ruled over the town, and he would definitely act like a king after stealing Steve’s and his money. It was unbelievable Bucky so nobody welcoming him with a smirk.

Hoping he didn’t use all that money for emptying a liquor store, Bucky parked the car and went to the motel, dying to have some beer: one heartless blonde boss of his emptied his fridge.

“Oh, more drinking partners returning to continue the fun, huh?”

Bucky froze immediately, staring at Pepper who stood in the doorway with a face of an iron maiden. Jesus fucking Christ. She returned to the city way before Tony told him, and it was clear she found him not in the condition she expected to. While Bucky considered whether it was better to run, Tony’s head appeared somewhere behind his wife, and Barnes saw Tony was as drunk as him, if not even more. He could see a huge blue mark from Pepper’s heavy hand on Stark’s cheek.

“Who’s that, honey?” The man asked innocently, earning an enraged glance from his wife, and Bucky thought he should have run. “Hi, Buck! Come on in, it’s ok if you didn’t bring beer even if I asked twice.”

Oh. Something was going on. Of course, Bucky could rat the man out immediately, telling Pepper he wasn’t drinking with Tony yesterday’s night, but he wasn’t such a heartless bastard - by the look on Stark’s face Barnes could see his sweet blonde wifey would beat poor Tony to death with her Dior handbag.

“Sorry, I blacked out for a couple of hours in my car.” He mumbled, bowing his head in respect. “Pepper, such a pleasure to see you.”

“Come on in, alcoholic.” Her gaze was heavy, and Bucky shivered a little, carefully leaving his shoes near the door and scurrying away to the coach where Tony sat, nervously biting his fingers. “Well, do you wanna tell me something, huh? How many hookers have you brought here yesterday?”

Glancing to Tony and back to Pepper, Barnes suddenly realized his frenemy had been so drunk he had no hecking idea whether somebody really brought hookers to the motel - it was a total taboo, but once they got drunk they could barely control themselves. Once they literally woke up to a Santa Claus singing Jingle Bells in the tub in the middle of June because Tony missed Christmas.

Of course, Stark would never slip up the night before Pepper was coming back to town, but, apparently, she didn’t stay with her mom for as long as she planned, and Tony was royally fucked.

“I’ve asked you a question.”

And now Bucky was, too, if he didn’t think of something quick. Of course, he could tell her the truth, but it meant losing Tony completely, and Barnes didn’t want that. A real mafioso should have at least one strong enemy, right?

“I’m sorry, Pepper, but I don’t think there were any hookers here last night.” He said, carefully choosing words. “You see, first, Tony never allows us to. Second, we’re good Christians. We would never invite some hookers when we celebrated the birth of Clint’s daughter!”

As he got silent, enjoying the effect his words were having on Pepper, Bucky looked at the man sitting to his right, watching Tony’s eyes watering: it was definitely God himself who sent Barnes his way that morning, saving his from near death. Nothing would work better than this excuse. Clint and all Bucky’s guys were so drunk to the point they barely remembered what had happened, and it would be easy to convince them Tony and his gang came to see Barnes for something and ended up staying with all of them.

Besides, there was a nice bonus Bucky could add to make it work even better.

“By the way, Clint named her Natasha. That’s also the name of your mom, right?”

By the look on Tony’s face the man realized he was ready to sing.

“How did he know my mom’s name?” Pepper eyed Steve’s right hand distrustfully, but he could tell she was less irritated.

“Oh, you know, he and his wife couldn’t choose the name, so we started saying whatever names we knew, and Tony mentioned Natasha.”

For a second Bucky thought Stark was going to kiss him through excess of joy.

When he finally left the motel, getting his pack of beer given him by lovely Pepper who changed the anger to mercy, Tony ran out of the house after him, giving him a pat on the shoulder and whispering quietly, “I own you one, brother.”

Bucky sighed. Stark didn’t take the money.

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne​​ @alexakeyloveloki​​ @helenaeisenhower​​ @villanellevi​​ @hurricanerin​​ @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @navegandoaciegas​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysbunny​ @soleil-dor​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @dillybuggg​ @literate-lamb​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @jaysayey​ @megzdoodle​ @gotnofucks​ @lux-ravenwolf​ @iheartsebandchris​ @ximebebx​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @sourpatchspinster​

[pewterkat-lwd]

Oh my God I hate when people try to lowball me on already cheap lions and wolves. Offers are fine, trying to haggle an already low price down further is not.

Like, "oh I see this lion is 60sb! However... *slides you 20sb*". No? And idk if they're new or they actually make their way through the game by haggling, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who would get upset by that? Now 20sb and a feather, or small corpse, or no sb and a handful of common crafting items is fine. Sure you can have it. I get something out of it and you get the lion. Or this morning on Wolvden I rolled over for funsies (might start rolling over Fridays) and someone had offered 10sc on a wolf that had to be up for no more than 15sc. Please take a few turns through explore to get the full 15, it won't take you long I promise.

Because I don't sell fodder wolves and lions unless it's marked Fodder specifically. If you think of my babies as fodder that's fine but don't expect me to lower my standards specifically for you. Don't insult me by offering me less. Both pups and cubs are 10 of their respective currencies. Named babies go for at least a little more, because you are paying for stats, marks, and maybe the base.

Anyway, rant over. Please don't lowball people.

[1oserjk]

— full stop | still good without luck

when life was becoming a bit steadier

+ here is a clearer puzzle piece of oc n jk’s backstory :D

word count: 2.4k

x full stop masterlist | x masterlist

Three years after he finally landed a solid grip on the shop and enough money came in to pay back the bills including the newly bought house and his studio, is when he came barreling in your shared bedroom door with a complicated-looking bouquet in his hand.

Your first instinctive reaction was to recoil and question the cheesy gesture.

“Oh god. What’s this?” You stupidly pointed—poked towards the obvious. They were very living, giving them a long appreciative look knowing in a matter of days they would wither and fall off if you didn’t snip the stems and soak them in water soon enough. 

“Flowers, obviously. For you.”

You reluctantly took them into your arms, listening intently to the way the thin plastic rubbed against your bare skin.

You wondered if he would be okay with you picking off the petals of some of the white flowers to set out in the sun for a day, before soaking them in oil to preserve the fragrance.

Stupid crafts like that always made you happy. He knew that.

“It’s a pretty pairing,” you honestly said, staring at the stark contrast between the white and the slightly familiar dirty orange. You think you’ve seen it in one of the pages of your A-Z Of Perennials book your mother gifted you last summer.

“They’re your favorite,” he explained as if it was a fact you never knew about yourself.

You nodded. “They are.”

He took a slight breath in before fully releasing to say, “And this lily is my birth flower.” He put his hands in the pockets of his slacks to stop himself from anxiously fidgeting. You thought it was cute. “I’m personally fond of the meaning of them.”

You smiled. “And what exactly could that meaning be?”

“Please—“ his eyes set out for yours when he finished, “—love me.”

The message you received through each petal achingly clear: that Jeon Jungkook was a man made solely for you and nobody else. Somebody so incredibly needy in only the best ways possible, eager to hand you the world — that was your husband and the father of your child.

“Corny, huh,” he attempted to brush off, but you saw right through his prideful facade, the tint to his cheeks lacking in help for the man standing right in front of you.

Jungkook was always the type to go soft at the romanticization of things, as if you were watching a Studio Ghibli film right at the center of his dark-colored orbs, the projection of the simplicity of all things beautiful. It was a solid contrast to your realist characteristic you held, but being with Jungkook all those years only made it easier to fall back and dream for a bit with him.

You carefully set the flowers down on the dresser beside you to wrap your arms around him, his eyes being the easiest thing to fully immerse yourself into.

“Not at all,” you said, shaking your head, “I think they fit you well.”

He hummed, hands easily finding the curve of your hips and landing them firmly atop the thin layer of your dress. He was automatically up to no good when his lips had quirked to one side and his eyes flashed a gleam for a millisecond. “Being pretty?”

You hit at his arm, leaning your head closer to his until your noses met and intuitively slotted at just the right angle. “No,” you lead, lips brushing at the single syllable, “being needy.”

He scrunched his and pulled away from your lips as a form of punishment. Eyes set on the prize, so driven for the one thing you find yourself craving the past week, standing on the tips of your toes and eagerly reaching for a kiss.

He scoffed quietly, putting up a false front. He gave it to you easily and without even a fight, “I’m the needy one? Look who’s kissing me.”

“Please,” you reasoned and puckered up for another, “This is me showing my appreciation and affection for the flowers. Really, thank you.”

He dug his face into your neck and traced the bare skin of your back with the tip of each of his slender fingers. He said something quietly about liking that particular dress on you, his fingers playing along with the open slit to emphasize his appreciation. You shivered slightly from the contact and leaned most of your weight against him to compensate for your legs suddenly weakening.

“I’m glad you liked them,” he murmured into your skin, leaving goosebumps against the rest. “I thought it would be a nice addition to our date night.”

“Speaking of,” you began to mutter at the reminder, “It’s been so long since we’ve had a decent amount of time alone. I was surprised you were free this weekend.”

“Sorry,” he sheepishly said, “As much as I trust those two back at the shop — I don’t. But, they told me I at least needed a small break and that they would take care of interviewing for our receptionist position over the weekend.”

Your head tilted curiously to ponder, “You’re still looking for someone?”

He solemnly nodded.

“Then I might just quit and apply at yours,” you teasingly smirked, “Sounds kind of fun.”

He groans. “As much as that would go appreciated..” His hands suddenly drift down to roam your ass and hips, giving it a solid pinch to make you yelp out loud. The corner of his lips quirked. “I don’t think your mother will appreciate you wasting a degree like that. And to be honest? I don’t think I’d get much work done if you were working under me either.”

“Why not?” You didn’t exactly have the opportunity to be as creative as he was, to interact with new people, and share art the way he did. You were organized and clean though. “I’ve had to take a leave at work to focus on Yeona while you were kept busy with the shop, I want to get back to working again. Want to spend more time with you..”

He landed a solid kiss on the edge of your temple and sighed. “Baby, I promise that once business gains momentum without me having to be there, I’ll take some more time off. I feel better that you’re with our daughter for now.”

Your mouth formed to a downturn. “What about you? Jungkook, she needs her own father.”

There’s a moment of silence between the both of you, a thousand of unspoken words floated in between. Yours surrounded him with question marks.

“Do you really want to start that tonight?” He asked, tiredness stirring in his eyes.

You blinked in slight pain before erasing it completely away from his view to read it as anything more and mustered a weak smile. Your hands fidgetted but stick to simply smoothing out the lines of his dress coat.

The bite on your tongue is harsh and punishing.

“Okay,” you answered, a mustered smile easily stretched out, “Fine.”

You wondered how much longer you both would suppress the looming subject until the next argument would find its way back into conversation again.

You stepped out of his hold and observed him from a distance. His expression is given with the way he held back the same as you.

You didn’t push it for the sake of that night.

With your back turned, you grabbed for your purse and handed him a smile before offering your hand. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”

You’ve encased his hand into your hold at the beginning of the drive, probably slightly dangerous to do but a foolish and selfish habit you had when it came to him. He doesn’t mind when they folded in between the warmth of your thighs, anyway. His driving skills were well off enough to stay stable and to occasionally run his thumb against your skin whenever he pleased.

Just feeling the span of where your short dress had risen had him stirring in his pants and already questioning, “When was the last time we had sex?”

You didn’t flinch at the abrupt question, humming to think. “Maybe about—a week ago?”

His eyes widened. “Fuck, really?”

You nodded. “Your perception of time has always been fucked..” Sitting up, you pinned him a stare, “Come on, you really don’t remember?”

Mindless sex was one of the many ways he would vow out his apology after all. He spelled out his sorry by drawing out an orgasm after orgasm. 

“No, no, I do,” he answered, “I just—didn’t expect it to be that long ago.”

Your mind begged to comment out that it was his fault for always being so damn busy.

“Okay,” he said, arm extended out, having it be enough of your fidgeting and sudden silence, “Come here and hold my hand again.”

It’s his cluelessness to note the way you felt that frustrated you the most — maybe it was just your fault for not properly voicing it out.

“Let’s not think about the last time and look forward to tonight, yeah?” You bit at a remark, reluctantly obliging, only quickly regretting it when his long fingers flexed, unattainable to let go of the raw thoughts that clumped into your head right after. Cheeky bastard. You gripped them tightly to make him hiss out, rubbing the stupid initials of yours on the back of his hand a second later.

He went on with the conversation about some big time client who was willing to spend a fuck ton of money for him to ink his whole entire back. You weren’t too surprised to hear him say that he was informed it would be free game, a general idea and vibe but overall letting Jungkook’s creativity roam free. There was a fond smile stretched upon your lips when he got giddy over it, sprouting out all of the sketch ideas he planned for his work to splay out on the man’s bare skin, eyes twinkling like a fucking kid and it’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

The car turned to an unfamiliar road and it’s only then your eyebrows furrowed. Your mind perked at the fact you’ve been clueless for that long, not even recognizing the route to your unannounced destination. “I don’t even know where we’re going.”

He turned the wheel again. “Somewhere nicer.” That was the theme for that night, nicer—better—greater than usual.

You eagerly started to look around, like the GPS in front of you didn’t indicate you would be there in the next ten minutes. “Where? What’s the name of the place?” 

He chuckled. “Sit back and wait for it, alright? I promise you’ll like it.”

Of course, you took his word for it.

The tower sat at a painstakingly high height.

“Jungkook,” you deadpanned, “What are we doing here?”

He smiled widely. “Do you remember this place?”

The breeze blew through you and you could only hug yourself tighter with a meager nod. “You took me here for my birthday that one year?”

He nodded, hands in his pockets. “And I only had enough money to pay for the admission fee and nothing else. Not even enough to get a decent souvenir from the gift shop.”

“Hey, no,” you denied with a pout, clearly offended, “You got me a small magnet that’s still hanging on top of our fridge. It’s cute and I love it.”

His tongue ticked against the roof of his mouth and he reluctantly agreed. “Alright, fine. But—”

You gaped at the tower, mindlessly sputtering when you realize, “Is this where we’re having dinner?”

Finally, he confirmed with a solid nod and a sheepish smile. “We have a reservation.”

Blinking, you repeated, “Reservation? Why would we even need one—”

His arm suddenly swooped down and curled your body next to his as soon as you began walking up the intimidating structure. “Because I have the money to do so now, can’t you see? I can finally spoil the fuck out of my wife the way I’ve been wanting to this whole time.” Nicer—better—greater than usual

“Gguk—”

“I know that it might be a few years too late to make up for it, but I want you to realize how much I love you,” he said sincerely. “That I’m doing all of this for reason.”

You tugged his hand and called for him again.

Ignoring your pleas, he continued, “I’m shitty for not doing this sooner, and I know some nights get lonely without me, but I want to pay you back with everything I can possibly afford — I’m working hard. For you. For Yeona. Only for the both of you.”

Impulsively, your heel stomped against the pavement until his attention finally shifted towards you. The action immediately turned regrettable when the impact vibrated and bounced off of your ankle. You winced.

“Jungkook,” you pathetically mumbled, reaching out towards him.

Mid-talk, and it was your eyes that glossed over to throw him off, putting him on high alert. He had no choice but to stare down nervously at you with a bitten lip. 

You exhaled slowly and eventually circled your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You were still just outside of the front doors to climb in a beautifully long elevator ride, the gift shop beside the admission booths light blinking brightly to let visitors know it was wide open for them to waste money on overpriced, useless trinkets and tiny magnets.

Your fingers softly pulled at the hairs of his nape, urging him to give you a kiss right then and there. “I appreciate and love everything you’ve bought and done for me tonight.” Just for even allowing some time for the both of you that weekend — it was way more than enough. Your fingers softly ran over the edge of his jaw and went a bit further up to cup his cheek. His hands slid up to your wrist in return and squeezed, angling his head to put a few kisses on the center of your palm. “But you know I love you regardless, right? I don’t need you to pay back my love I’ll always have for you. Always, Gguk. We maintained a shitty apartment together for so many years, still got married when the circumstances weren’t always the nicest, and continue to raise a beautiful little girl together. Nothing changes when I’m with you.”

He eagerly bent down to encase your lips with his own. “I love you,” he said with utter sincerity, his silent ode to you he would carry along for the rest of his life hung somewhere within the tone of it. Always.

[peeterparkr]

perfidy;tom holland|13

chapter 13: the love interest

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: to fall down an abyss. 

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings:  swearing, fluff, didn’t proof read, smut: (mile high club), unprotected, public sex (skip the * if you don’t want to read it. 

word count: 7.6k

here’s a playlist

and here’s another one

and here’s another one inspired by 1D

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) : 

part one:Harry is suspicious, James regrets telling something to Tom, Y/N is smitten

part two:Haz and Sam get updated, Tom and Y/N are still figuring out how to flirt,

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Love is irrational. Stupid. You were stupid. Or at least you were trying to convince yourself you were. Love is such a complicated feeling. Because it feels like a song, a good one. One you can’t stop playing. But what happens when someone breaks your heart? The song fades away.  You don’t want to listen to it anymore. You can’t live in the past. 

Because when they speak of love, they speak of illusion. You could think of a bright sun and a blue sky, or a pink… and foggy dawn. Illusion breaks. 

Did you love him? Did you want to go again to that chaotic feeling? That constant sorrow of waiting for rain to come down while it’s a bright and sunny day. That feeling of everyone speaking and bustling through the crowd, but you’re silent. That feeling that when everything seems to explode… he finally shows up. 

Because love is… what even is love, after all? Forgiveness? 

Love is being stupid. 

Love is being irrational. 

Love is… butterflies. 

Butterflies. You hadn’t felt those in a while. But there you were, smiling like an idiot to the bright screen. Your stomach jolted as soon as he texted back. Like a teenager. 

Who were you kidding? You were a fool for him, but he… seemed to be in this, too. 

There was something different about all of this. Tom seemed different. Of course you still had to build up your walls but you had to admit that you were really falling for him. There was no way of denying it. And he seemed to like you, too. But did he? 

But of course, there was that particular thought in your head, reminding you of how it feels to get your heartbroken. Reminding you that Tom wouldn’t hesitate on breaking your heart. He hadn’t before. 

He’d proven that to you, several times.

How come were you so stupid? Charlie was right, Tom would most likely commit perfidy. That’s all he was. 

And honestly, what wrong were you doing by writing your story? Sure, it had begun like something to get revenge for, but right now it really was… just a portrayal of your feelings. And it wasn’t hurting anybody. You really weren’t hurting anybody, it was just taking inspiration from real life. A script of an 80’s rock n’ roll love. Of a guy who was supposed to hate someone but ended up falling in love with her.

But was he in love? He couldn’t be. 

Because he’d said it again, and again. You were not his type and he’d rather eat a frog than kiss you. 

Yet you’ve kissed, and his lips were so damn addictive, because they asked for more and more, and they were soft but steady. All you could think about were his eyes, the way he would gently stare at you. 

The way he watched you, god, the way his eyes brightened up and made you feel like there was a single spotlight on you.The way that his smile told you that no matter the rain, he’d make you feel like the sun will come out anyway. The way that he’d turn to listen to you in the crowded room even if you were silent. The way that even with the chaos, he’d be there. 

But he was most likely only charmed with lust. He wouldn’t be able to love you. He never had. 

But…could he?

Love is being a fool, but not caring about being one. But you did care about it, you didn’t want to be a fool. 

That damn thought had you thinking for a few nights. And you’d walk right in front of that bright screen waiting to understand where you wanted to go with this. Re-reading the first dialogues, so full of rage and pettiness. Anger. 

You had your reasons. And though he seemed different…You still feared him. And right now, he had more weapons to hold up against you. He had your heart on his hand and he could crush it. But you wouldn’t let him, and he was well aware of it, you knew. Because even if you were giving in to his touch and his flirting, you never really… gave in. You were cold and you were frigid.

Could you ever open your heart again? Could you ever give in to him? 

But you had. Who were you trying to fool? You’d given him everything you could think of. Why did he even want a relationship? And did he really want it? 

It could be another prank, another complicated way to tumble you down to your knees. Another way to mess up with your heart until he squeezed out every single tear from you. 

You thought of the yellow flowers you’d burned. You hadn’t kept them, but you should’ve as a reminder of it. And your mind, god your mind couldn’t shut up. But your heart was being louder. Your heart was yelling at you, asking you to let yourself love him. You were smarter. 

Because Tom Holland had taught you one thing, to doubt yourself. 

Although, the questions had changed. Now they were wondering why you out of everyone? Was it your hair? Was it your makeup? Your perfume? 

Was it his way to once again fool you? 

A day before the flight, you opened up two boxes. Timmy’s and Tom’s. 

And when you opened Timmy’s… it felt like an old song. It smelled of lavender. You’d once sprayed it with perfume. 

There are people who are tailor-made for each other. You know the ones. You see them act so perfectly, so coordinated. They finish each other's sentences and they, without noticing, end up with coordinated outfits. That’s the story that the box with Timmy told, someone who you should be in love with. 

Someone who was practically crafted for you. Timmy was in all ways the person you were expected to fall in love with. The perfect guy.

You stared at the canister, a friendly reminder that Timmy probably should’ve been and would be your endgame. 

You opened up the canister, and then slid down the bright ring that you’d kept for months now. How long had it been? 6 months now? You couldn’t remember. 

“Keep it, wear it if you want to. But don’t give it back, it’s yours.” Those words had stayed long enough in the air for you to still be able to hear them. 

You placed it on your finger. You hadn’t worn it. Not really. Because it didn’t feel like it belonged to you. Even now that you were staring at it, and though it adorned your hand beautifully… it didn’t feel right.

Was it your own fear? You’d talked about it once with Harry, how you didn’t believe in the one.

Only two people in this world knew about this ring. Well, four if you counted you and Tim. 

Harry and James. Because the first person you’d reached was Harry. 

“If you don’t think he’s the one,”Harry said. 

“There’s no such thing as the one,” you’d said. 

“Well, if you don’t want to marry him then it’s okay if you said no,” Harry said.

“There’s a part of me that thinks I should’ve said yes,” you admitted. “Everyone thinks so.” 

“But you’re not ready.” 

“I think he is perfect for me,” you explained. 

Harry watched you. “Then what’s the problem?” 

“Love is not about someone being perfect for each other, love is wanting to be with someone despite them not being perfect.” 

That’s love. Despite all, you are still the one who I want. 

Was Tom that? Your… “despite”? 

But you didn’t want to love him. Not yet. But then the box proved that to you. Even after everything, even after all the bad things, you were there. Because somehow you were stupid. Yes, that’s what love is. Being stupid. 

And being in love or not, you were already stupid. So you might as well give in. Slowly. And carefully. 

You’d packed the film canister, you had to give it back. And you knew that you couldn’t wait even more, you’d find time to give it back. You couldn’t sleep thinking there was a ring always waiting to be worn when it probably would never be. 

Tom had opened the door the very next morning, you’d meet at his place and you’d then head to the airport.  “Morning!” He welcomed you and then kissed your cheek. The stupid butterflies to make its way back in.

You only smiled at him, as he rushed you to the kitchen. He immediately let go of your hand as he saw Harrison with a bowl of cereal staring at you both with a smirk. 

You walked further apart from Tom. “Harrison hello, nice to see you,” you said with formality. 

Haz only smiled at you, too busy with his cereal. Tom pulled out a chair for you, and then approached you a cup. 

“So, okay there’s your tea and—“

“My  tea?” You questioned. 

Tom grinned. “Yeah… And I made you breakfast, I’ll be right back I need to finish-“

“Are you not done packing?”

He stuck his tongue out. “Nope.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Thomas oh my god.”

“Sorry,” he blushed. “but hey, Tess is here!” He then called the pup, as she rushed over to you. 

You were certainly happy by the news. “Hi baby,” you grinned as Tessa had jumped to your lap, you had forgotten about everything as you hugged the dog, but then you looked up. “How come you’re not done packing?”

He was too busy pettingTess, too. “Huh?” He looked up. “Oh, we...I was busy thinking—“

You scoffed. “ah takes you too much time huh?”

He nudged you. “Shut up,” he laughed, “do you have a checklist I could use? I know you’re a checklist and color coding freak.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not.” 

“Do you or do you not have a checklist?” He smirked. 

You didn’t answer. 

His smirk widened. 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, okay I do but—“

He snickered. “But?”

You blushed, he was right. “Let me—okay,” you sighed as you took out your phone, “just ignore everything that doesn’t apply to you and… sent.” 

“What wouldn’t—“his eyes scanned the list. “Oh!” His eyes widened. “Oh?” He stared at you. “Oh…” he smirked. 

“What?” You lifted your eyebrows, as you then proceeded to scan your list. It was normal until you saw that particular checkbox. The lingerie one, where you had placed a very nice question mark after it. 

“Tell me you checked that box,” he approached you. 

“Shut up,” you pushed him away. 

“Did you?” He grinned as he lifted your chin. 

“No,” you rolled your eyes. “That's an old checklist,” you lied coldy. “Let me help you out with packing.” 

“No, you’re going to stay here with Tess,” he winked. 

“Tom—“ but then Tessa had gained your attention back. “Hi baby, you’re the only Holland who matters.” 

Tom watched you with pride. “Rude...Stay here, it won’t take long and—,” he watched you. “okay, I’ll be quick, Sam is up there he’ll help me out and—“ you didn’t let him finish as you’d already planted a kiss on his cheek. “Okay, I can… okay, that… okay, yeah,” he kissed your forehead before heading up to his room. 

You grinned watching him go. But you had forgotten something, Harrison was still there and he made you acknowledge his presence by clearing his throat. 

Fuck, you thought. Or said? Maybe you’d said it out loud.

“That’s not… what it looks like, I Uh—“ you blushed and tried to come up with excuses. Any excuse could work. 

Haz smirked and then let out a loud laugh. “It wasn’t you kissing his cheek and then him kissing your forehead?”

“No, no… it’s not that.” But it was. 

He smirked. “what exactly was it y/n?”

You cleared your throat, and played dumb. “what was what? I’m … Tess?” You turned your attention back to the dog. 

Haz cackled. “Tess?”

“What were you saying?” You looked up. 

Haz grinned. “ y/n, I know.” 

“what?” You looked up with fear. 

“I know you guys have… something going on,” Harrison laughed. “You guys weren’t subtle, and I know he asked you out.” 

You cleared your throat. “you see that’s where you’re kind of wrong because we don’t have something going on—he barely just asked me out and at this point I don’t think he meant it because there’s no date plan yet—“ you looked away. Another thing that bothered you, he’d asked you out and there was no date in sight.

Haz frowned. “wait, did he not tell you.” 

“what?”

“What your date will be?”

You scowled. “No.” 

Haz scoffed. “He’s very dumb.” 

You grinned. “We can agree on that, but what is it?” You bit your lip. 

“Nothing.” Haz watched you. “He really likes you, you know,” he commented..

You laughed. “He does?”

“Very much.”

“I…” you frowned, staring into Tessa's eyes. “No.” 

Haz snorted. “No?”

You but your lip. “I’m sorry, I have a hard time believing it.” 

The blonde guy watched you. “He’s been that big of an asshole to you, right?” 

He had been, but despite all of that. There was your body butterflying over a stupid kiss on the forehead. “yeah, so… I have to be careful or… otherwise he’ll break my heart again and… we don’t want that, do we Tess?” You asked the puppy, who only licked your cheek. 

“I don’t know what happened before but right now, he’s head over heels for you,” Harrison admitted. 

You watched him skeptically. “we’ll see.” 

“seriously,” Haz stated. “he won’t shut up.” 

You chuckled. “But he never does, about anything,” you pointed out and Haz nodded in agreement. “who else… knows about this?”

Haz cleared his throat. “no, uh only me.” 

Sam had walked into the kitchen. “Only you what? Oh, hi my lovely y/n,” he grinned at you with complicity. 

“Sam, hi.” 

Sam seemed suspicious too. “You know what I’ve been thinking y/n,” he watched you. “Have you lost your sanity, yet? Spending that much time with Tom?” 

You laughed. “I lost it, yes,” you admitted. 

Sam chuckled. “And will you be able to spend 8 hours on a plane with him?” 

You hadn’t thought about it. You had been too busy thinking and deciding your feelings for that idiot that you forgot you were about to spend 7–almost 8 very risky hours with said idiot. Which could either go very wrong or… no, this could only go wrong. You’d either fight or you wouldn’t. And the second one was worse, because you already were on the edge of the abyss, one little push and you’d fall for him. 

It would only take one more kiss to actually make you lose your sanity. 

The heart wants what it wants.

“Okay so I was going to buy you flowers,” Tom said as you’d arrived at the airport. Both of you taking out your bags. Security had met you there.

“Flowers?” You questioned. 

“Yes but I realized you wouldn’t be able to keep them because of airport rules or whatever,” he said 

You frowned watching him. “Why would you buy me flowers?” 

He paused and then smiled at you.  “Because it’s our date, silly.” 

“Our—what?” 

Tom grinned. “Our date, dumbass.” 

You didn’t say anything. 

And you barely had said anything. Some fans had recognized Tom and he’d taken some pictures with him. The whole world was so in love with him, you knew that. You were nothing special for being one more. 

There has always been something magical about airports for you. There were a lot of stories to be told and different personalities that could be seen at the airport. You’d always found it so interesting, a chance to leave or a chance to come back home. Airports were always a mystery to you, you never knew why people were traveling. Could be holidays,  a breakup, business. People trying to find themselves, people who’ve lost themselves. 

“I figured it out,” Tom said the moment you’d both sat at the lounge. Him with a beer, you with a glass of champagne. 

“Figured what out?” 

“That it should be here, our first date,” he grinned. 

You chuckled. “Forcing me to spend 8 hours with you without a possibility of running away?” You mocked. “Clever.” 

“Yeah, that mainly,” he admitted with a laugh. “But—also, because you’ve always been a fan of airports and planes.” 

You took a sip. “I am.” 

“The stories you said?” He asked. 

You shrugged. “The possibility of going elsewhere, everyone here is for a different reason,” you explained. “Airports are full of stories waiting to be told.” 

He grinned.  “And What will ours be?” 

“Time will tell,” you smirked. 

“I know you y/n, this is… the perfect first date,” he grinned. 

You chuckled. “Is it?” You watched him. “Haven’t been in one for a while, what are you supposed to do on a first date?” 

His fingers hovered over your hand. “Supposed to be making good impressions.”

“Hm, but we already have impressions of each other,” you sassed, lifting your own fingers to brush his. “And not really the best ones.” 

He raised his brows. “Well.” 

“Besides, I don’t want anything that a first date is supposed to be ,” you chuckled. “We can't have a normal first date.” 

“We can’t?” 

“We know each other’s worst side,” you explained.

“But we don’t know the best.” He smirked. 

You laughed. “This is stupid, Tom,” you blushed looking away. 

“Why?” He frowned. “I think we’ve always wanted this.” 

You looked into his eyes. “Well.” 

“I’ve always wanted this,” he finally rested his hand on yours, intertwining his fingers. 

“That’s so cliche, Tommy.” 

“Well didn’t you?” He grinned. 

You coughed. “I thought we hated each other.” 

“And I think we were always keeping up an act,” he shrugged. “Ever since we were kids”

“Ew  no I really thought you were a very annoying kid,” you admitted. “And dumb” 

“But think about it, think about all the moments we’ve had,” he pushed. 

You had been thinking about them lately. “What about them?” 

“We’ve been alone, seems like every time that someone is around we transform but when we see nobody’s around we can be like this,” he brought your hand to his lips. 

You cleared your throat nervously. 

“Did you blush, idiot ?” He teased. 

“It’s the champagne, dumbass,” you took your hand back. 

He laughed, as he pulled the chair closer. “Is it?” 

“You told Harrison,” you tried to change the subject. 

He sipped of his beer. “He figured it out—The horn.” 

You laughed. “Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh.” 

“But nobody else knows right?” You questioned.

“You told James!” He frowned. 

“He told you?” You coughed. “I—didn’t tell him. He figured it out.” 

“We’ve been bad at keeping this a secret, huh?” He grinned.

“But nobody else can know, can you imagine what their reactions would be?” You chuckled.

Tom reached back for your hand. “We don’t have to tell them.” 

“I  guess.”

“Not until we figure it out,” he said as he then shifted his chair to be closer. 

You stared at both his eyes, with a grin. “You won’t freak out then?”

“Freak out?” He leaned over.

“Dunno, every time we’ve been close to catching feelings you pull a stunt,” you brushed his lips with your hand.

“Have I backed away this time?” He questioned, pressing his lips against your finger. 

“Hm. guess not, and maybe that’s what scares me,” you pulled back your hand.

“You’re scared?” He took your Chin in his hand. 

You bit  your lip. “A bit, yeah, but I like you too much to care.” 

A smirk appeared on his face. “You like me?”

You closed your eyes and then tried to stand up but he pulled you back to him, over to sit on his lap. 

“You like me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. You tried getting out of his grip but he only pulled you closer. 

“No,” you covered his face with your hand, he licked your hand. “Thomas!” 

He laughed.  “You can’t back up now.” 

“I can,” you said smearing his own saliva on his face. 

“Y/N!” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Disgusting.” 

“Your tongue was on my hand,” you complained. 

“It’s been on other parts of your body and you didn’t mind back then,” he sassed with a smug smirk on his face. 

You blushed and nudged him. “Dickhead.” 

“Am I wrong?” He teased again, laughing. 

You smirked, pushing his face away. 

“Am I?” 

You stood up, walking away. 

“Y/N, no! come back,” he sighed. “I was joking.” 

“Getting snacks—“

“I’m the snack here,” he laughed, watching you. 

You walked back to him and pecked his lips, now it was his time to blush. “Real airport snacks, idiot,” you claimed. 

You didn’t know how you both ended up on the floor, your head on his lap as you were tossing m&m’s to his mouth, his hand caressing your hair. You both came up with a game, trying to figure out what everyone else was doing at that airport. 

“Probably a businessman,” you said staring at the man. “He’ll go to Wall Street.” 

“Really?” Tom watched him. “ah, yeah, gives the vibe,” Tom chuckled. “Y/N this game is boring.” 

“You’re boring,” you sat up, barely an inch away from his face. “Well, what else could we do?” 

He didn’t answer as he only looked down at your lips. 

“Idiot.” 

He grinned. “I didn’t say anything!” He laughed, as he pulled you close to him. “We could explore the airport but you are scared of losing the flight,” he laughed. 

“I know you, and you tend to dick around long enough to forget everything,” you pointed out. 

He laughed. “Well what do you suggest?” 

You looked down at his lips. 

“I thought that idea didn’t appeal to you,” he laughed. 

“No it doesn’t,” you admitted, cupping his face and placing a kiss on the edge of his lips. “Or does it?”

He grinned, pulling you in to mound his lips with yours. You’d missed the taste of his lips, and the way he danced them with yours. Bittersweet. 

“Harry was always the worst at pranks,”Tom had pointed out after a while. “Sam was okay.” 

“No, but we were the ones who actually won every time,” you agreed. “But I was crowned the queen of pranks.” 

“You were not.” 

“Do you remember that one time with the cups of water?” You reminded him. 

The first prank wars, early teenage years. You’d filled up his room with cups of water while he was sleeping, the entire room was filled up and he couldn’t get off his bed. Of course he had dropped a few, and his whole room had been flooded. 

He laughed. “But mum got so angry at you.” 

“I still won,” you chuckled. 

“You had to help me clean my room up, and your mum grounded you,” he recalled. “you call that winning?” 

“Yes.” 

“That’s not winning!” He frowned. “If anything I won with the toilet paper one.” 

“So original,” you rolled your eyes. 

“You know when we teamed up against Sam and Harry? Those were the pranks,” Tom laughed. 

“The Oreos one,” you laughed, remembering when Tom and you had taken hours of your day to fill Oreos with toothpaste. 

“Dude when we changed the entire bed with that pool,” he laughed. 

You shook your head. “No that was you and Sam against me and Harry, and that was my bed,” you scowled. 

You hadn’t stopped laughing, remembering anecdotes. Mostly fun. Some not as fun. 

“You realize I did everything I did because I wanted attention?”

You frowned. “You always had everyone’s attention. Correction, you always have everyone’s attention.” 

“But I wanted yours,” he chuckled. “You were never impressed, no, you are never impressed by me.” 

You smiled, knowing that was such a big lie. Did he really think that? 

“You always seem to forget,” you looked at him. “I loved you before the whole world did.” 

He hadn’t expected that. “No, you hated me.” 

“Hate isn’t the absence of love, not in our case,” you reminded him. 

And eventually, you were about to board the plane. 

“Weren’t you scared of planes?” He recalled watching you. 

“No,” you rolled your eyes. But you were shaking. You always were nervous around them, even if you loved them. You couldn’t help but get slightly scared. Maybe that’s all it had been for the past week, maybe it wasn’t the fact that you feared falling in love. 

“Oh my god, you were!” Tom smirked. “Yes, you were.” 

“Can you shut up?” You frowned. 

“Nope,” he laughed. “Oh wait, I’m supposed to be nice now,” he cleared his throat. 

“What?” 

Tom took your hand. “Hey, hey, I’ll be here.” 

“That makes it worse,” you said but squeezed his hand anyway. 

Boarding the plane, he stopped you mid-tunnel. “Y/N, it’s okay.” 

You chuckled. “Just like two minutes ago you were making fun of me, dickhead,” you answered pushing him away.

“But, hey, it’s okay,” he placed his hands on your waist, and then pulled you close to connect your lips against his, for a brief but sweet moment. “It’ll be fine, silly.” 

You only smiled against his lips. 

You noticed how both of you toned down any affection towards each other with the silly nicknames, dumbass, idiot, silly, dickhead. As if that cancelled out the strong feelings. 

You were really on the abyss. 

You found your seats, first class of course. and somehow it made you feel… weird. Spending 7 hours—almost 8 with him. Sam did have a point. And this was a date. How the hell were you going to have a date on this? 8 hours. 

“Okay so I brought this thing again,” Tom mentioned as he pulled out the camera once you were settled. 

“Oh god,” you rolled your eyes. “Why did you even buy it?” 

“You inspired me,” he grinned as he brought it up to his face. You covered the lens. “Y/N,” he pouted. 

“You’re taking away the magic of it.” You chuckled. 

“What?” 

“Ugh, take pictures of more interesting moments.” 

“You Can do whatever you want with your camera,” he frowned. “But I want pictures of you.” 

“Why?” You laughed as you covered your face.

“Because you’re pretty, idiot.” 

“I thought I wasn’t your type,” you pointed out. 

He snickered. “You’re not.” 

Suddenly you frowned and looked at him, he smirked as he then started to get comfortable in his seat, looking through the movies, ignoring your sight. With confusion, you kept watching him as he let out a loud laugh. 

“What?” He grinned. 

“Then why the hell are you trying to date me?” You complained. 

“Oh,” he smirked. “Did you expect me to tell you… you’re my type?” 

You frowned. “Well, no… because I’m not.” 

He grinned. “ I’m not yours either  and yet…” he grinned leaning over to kiss you, you stopped him before his lips could touch yours. 

“How do you know you’re not my type?” You questioned, someone from the flight crew walked over to offer you both a glass of champagne, which Tom gladly accepted and then gave you one. 

“Thomas?” You frowned as he gave you one, too. “Tom?”

“I know you enough, y/n, Timmy was your type,” he said with poison. 

You cleared your throat. 

He chuckled. “See? Timmy was your type,” he continued and you ignored him. “Please, every single guy you’ve dated is Timmy but in different fonts.” 

You let out a chuckle. “-okay but .”

“He was, wasn’t he?” He poked your side. “Please I’ve seen all the guys you’ve paraded around with, all have the same aesthetic and do some artsy shit, the painter, the singer, the photographer.” 

You smirked. “Well, you’re an actor.” 

“But I’m not... aesthetically inclined like them,” he chuckled. 

You watched him. “So you’re convinced you’re not my type.” 

“I know I’m not,” he grinned. 

“Well but you’re... you,” you said, expecting some nice response. 

He smirked with pride. “Yeah, I know, I’m gorgeous.” 

You punched his arm. 

“Oi!” He laughed. “I am.” 

“I was trying to be cute, you dumbass,  and you ruined it,” you complained. 

He rolled his eyes with a grin. “I called you pretty first,” he pointed out. “But okay, fine,” he cupped your face and then planted a long kiss to your lips. “Happy?” He asked, leaving you dumbfounded. 

“No.” 

He faked anger but then grinned as he lifted the armrest to pull you close to him. “You’re such an idiot.” 

“And you’re so stupid,” you grinned as you nuzzled against him. Of course, a flight attendant asked you both to use the seatbelts and all that crap. 

But you were too busy cuddling against him, forgetting you were terrified of planes as his hand was playing with your hair as you were trying to decide the movie you’d be watching. Tom had put up the privacy window and he was still stealing from the snacks you’d bought. 

“We are not watching Far From Home, fartface, ” you complained just after you’d taken off. 

“Why not?” He grinned. 

“I already have your dumb face here I don’t need to see it twice, oh my god, Back to the Future,” you grinned. “Yes!” 

Tom kissed the top of your head. “No,” he answered calmly. 

You sat up. “Why not?” 

“Because I know you have a crush on Marty McFly,” he pointed out, “and I want all of your attention on me, darling.”

You blushed, “you do realize why I had a crush on him, right?” 

Tom scrunched his face. “No, and I don’t wanna know, attention on me, darling.” 

“Prick.” 

You pursed your lips and held back a giggle. You’d always had a crush on Marty McFly because he reminded you of Tom. 

He frowned. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you looked away. “Oh, look backyardigans!” 

“We are not watching that,” Tom rolled his eyes. 

“Why not? You look like Pablo.” 

Tom let out a nervous chuckle. “Is it going to be 7 hours of this?” 

“Did you actually plan out this date?” You asked him. 

He chuckled, “no, but that’s the magic of it, and see? You’ll get to see the sky and you love that kind of shit, and we get to cuddle and there’s fancy food… and who else has had their first date on a plane?” 

You grinned. “You want to cuddle me?” 

“I want to kiss all your stupid face,” he admitted, as his fingers lifted your chin to watch him.

“Hm, I brought my laptop,” you mentioned, looking away. 

“What, you’ve got porn in there?” He asked. 

You flicked his nose. “Dumbass, no, I’ve got… tapes, not that kind of tapes, from when we were kids.” 

He grinned. “Like the actual vids?” 

You pulled out your laptop and scrolled through the files. He only nuzzled against your head. 

“Wait, is that your 18th birthday?” He asked. 

“Maybe.” 

“I recorded those,” he pointed out. “You were wasted!” 

“We are not watching those,” you rolled your eyes. 

He chuckled. “C’mon,” he clicked on one. “Was I Spider-?” 

“Yeah, I think you were here for a few days in London, and then you’d gone to film again, Homecoming I think.” 

“Hello everyone, we’re at y/n’s 18th birthday party, she’s… “ 

“Hi!” You had appeared on camera. 

“How are you feeling y/n?” 

You only giggled.

 “Y/N?” 

You only stared at him. “I think I’m gonna throw up.” 

“Okay, that’s it,” you closed the video. 

He laughed. “You flirted with me that whole day.” 

“I was drunk and stupid.” 

“Are you drunk right now?” He smirked. 

“No, but I’m still stupid,” you laughed. “Hey, no, I have this one.” 

His wisdom teeth had just been taken out, and of course, you’d be one of the first ones to show up. 

“Tom, how are you feeling?” 

“Y/N, you look pretty,” he mumbled. 

“And that, folks, is how we know he’s on drugs.” 

Tom laughed watching himself saying nonsense gibberish. “I feel like you have enough videos to blackmail me.” 

“Oh, I do,” you confessed. “And pictures.” 

And you continued watching videos, some were nice, of memories that had you laughing and some others made you both debate on what exactly had happened. But you both were laughing, and genuinely enjoying it. His hands wouldn’t leave your body, he’d squeeze you every now and then and he’d leave small kisses all around your face. He’d apologize sometimes whenever a video show how big of a jerk he was. 

This was going to be a long trip. 

But it didn’t feel like it. At one point you were barely even talking, just staring out the small window. It was… romantic. Sharing your music. 

“Okay, even if you didn’t plan anything this has been nice,” you admitted. 

He chuckled. “I’m sorry if I didn’t plan anything.” 

You grinned looking at him. “No, really I mean it, this has been… Perfect.” And it had been, and though you didn’t want to admit it. That’s all you really needed. 

“So, what’s your impression of me, so far?” 

You walked your fingers across his chest as he watched you carefully. 

“Mmh,” you looked into his eyes. “Pure of heart, dumb of ass.” 

He laughed. “Sounds good.” 

“Yours?” 

“Idiot with a pretty face,” he answered. “And I want to kiss that dumb face, honestly.” 

And that was what he did, kiss your dumb face. And his lips were probably lying, but you didn’t care, because they tasted so good, and they asked for more, and more. Lips so tasty, so soft and silky, and you hummed against him. His thumbs tracing down your hips and sliding them under your t-shirt. 

You pulled back, but his lips landed behind your ear. God, you were getting turned on only by the bristle of his lips, you hated this. How the hell were you so smitten with the guy who had been a nightmare to you his whole life? 

But you shifted to sit on top of his lap, and you could only listen to him catching his breath in between kisses, as your hands were cupping his face and running through his hair. 

But you couldn’t help thinking about how even if the privacy window was closed, anyone could see you. 

“Tom,” you whispered. 

“What?” 

“We can’t do this.” 

But his fingers were still toying with the hem of your shirt. He sighed, but then he smirked. 

“Don’t you want to go to the bathroom?” He questioned.

You frowned. “Hm? Not really.” 

He laughed darkly. “Y/N.” 

You watched him with confusion. “What?” You gave it a thought. “Oh.” 

“Oh,” he nodded. 

You cleared your throat. 

“Only if you want to,” he said. 

You bit your lip, and then placed a long kiss, giving him the response he needed. 

“I’ll knock three times,” he whispered. 

You carefully made your way to the restroom, it was bigger than whatever airplane bathroom you’d been in. Of course the first class bathroom had its perks but this was… still exciting. You were excited and scared. The bathroom was big. 

You waited for him and then you heard the three knocks. 

You opened the door, and let him in before making sure nobody had seen you. 

“Are we really doing this?” You questioned as you locked the door, but his lips were already on yours as he pushed you against the wall. The place was reduced but it didn’t matter, he pushed his whole body against you as your hands dug into his hair. 

In your mind, there was slight guilt of doing this but that’s what made it exciting, turning you on even more. 

He squeezed your hips as his mouth travelled down to your neck, leaving small kisses on it. His hot breath fanning against you, you felt him snicker against it. 

“It’s okay if you don’t—“he said suddenly looking up but you shut him up, kissing him, slowly. Your tongue slowly sliding in as he moaned slightly. 

Your hands traced its way down his back, your cold fingers making him shiver as they landed down on his cheeks, pulling him even closer to you, as your pulsating body begged for more movement. 

But you felt nervous, for the first time, you felt nervous. Was it the fact that you were miles up in the air? Or the fact that you were both acknowledging you had feelings? Either way, you couldn’t help but smile between each kiss, as you tasted the remaining sweet chocolate from them. 

You didn’t know what your expectations from this particular experience were, a probably dirty even if it looked impeccable airplane bathroom wasn’t the most romantic thing that you could think of. But if you really squeezed your mind through it, you were about to do it in the sky… that could be romantic. 

But you couldn’t stop giggling between kisses, not when his digits were pressing against your waist. And he couldn’t either. 

“Y/N!” He complained holding back his laughs. “Stop—laughing.” 

You burst into more laughter as your head landed on his shoulder. “Fine, sorry… I’ll be sexy.” 

He scoffed with a cackle. “Don’t—say that,” he couldn’t help but laugh with you. 

You covered his mouth. “Sh, they cant find out I literally think this is a crime!” He licked your hand. “Tom! Not again.”

“What is a crime? Laughing?” He questioned. “Because that’s all we’ve done here, y/n.” 

*

You rolled your eyes and then pulled his head close so you were kissing him again. You bristled down your path with your own digits, sketching each and every muscle on his chest and stomach, he groaned against your lips. 

His own hands explored your body, the pad of his fingers lifting up your t-shirt to coldly rub circles on your belly. 

He cupped your breasts, and slowly massaged them. You moaned against him, but then he pulled them back to travel down your sides, gliding them softly. He then pulled back his wet lips from yours, making you open your eyes abruptly. He was staring at you, in a way that he’d never stared before. Making you forget you were in a first class bathroom. Undressing you with only his eyes as you could only see his eyelashes traveling up and down. And he smiled, in that way that was so him. 

You’d jumped down the abyss now, not fallen, you had purposely jumped down. And you wanted him to touch you, right there and right now, your skin burned at his sight. 

You smiled back, as your hands slid down his pants. You craned your neck back allowing him to suck slightly, ever since you’d first slept with him your neck had been covered with remaining tattoos of his lips. Your fingers brushed against his bulge as he pushed with desperation to grind himself against you. You felt him let out a soft giggle against you as his lips went back to yours, he bit on your bottom lip, as his hands went down to pull down your pants, his digits toying with your core. 

You gasped as soon as he had slid his fingers along your folds, you gripped the back of his t-shirt to gain back your composure, as you spread your thighs open for him. His hands left your core as they travelled to the back cupping your ass, lifting you up, you felt his growing shaft right under your pussy and the only friction was doing its sole job. 

With one hand on his shoulder and the other unbuckling him, you were only letting out deep breaths as his eyes wouldn’t leave yours, driven by lust… but it wasn’t lust, he was entranced by you. His movements were slow as he brought his hands back up to your face, delicate sparks as he pushed your hair back. You could feel your pussy pooling your pants but he wasn’t being rough, he only kept peppering kisses, as if he couldn’t get enough. And you couldn’t either, even when the kisses were getting sloppier and wetter, and at some point, it was only smiling against a smile. The only thing you were both saying between heavy breaths were each other’s names. 

You finally pulled down his pants and underpants to reveal his shaft, dripping already. 

“I didn’t—bring—“

“I’m on the pill,” you quickly snapped. “Need you in me, now,” you ordered as he gave in to your orders, he swiped his tip against your clit and then pushed you against the wall as he thrusted into you in one sole movement, you bit down a moan as you shifted against him, helping him find the spot where you needed him. 

He bit down his lip, as your hands grasped to his back. Between sloppy and messy kisses he started to pump into you at a steady and slow pace, you were digging your nails down his skin as each thrust was getting harder, and deeper. Digging into your body as you tried not to be loud. 

Gentle gasps were leaving your lips as his own lips ere glued to your neck, as he frantically tried to silence himself too. You only felt the cold wall pushing each time against your back. 

One of his hands found your waist while the other rested against the cold wall to steady his rhythm, as you were tightening against him, tiptoeing with one leg as you tried to gain balance. 

The electricity between each thrust and each kiss was summoning you into a deep state of pleasure, as you messily tried to grab onto his whole body, lifting your digits to every possible inch of his body that you could reach. 

This was wrong, right? Then why the hell did it feel so good? At that precise moment you didn’t care if he was planning to break your heart. He could take it and crush it and cut it and you wouldn’t care. 

You rolled back your eyes as you curled your toes as he hit the right spot with every thrust. 

He lifted you and moved you against the sink, he changed his pace as you angled your hips, bucking against him. His lips leaving kisses on your shoulder as you arched your back, him rolling his own hips against yours. 

“Fuck, Tom,” was all you could say.

You panted against him as your eyelids were shutting down. As you tried to shift his hand found your core, circling and toying with your clit, helping you build up the already coming orgasm. 

He surged from your neck to go back to your lips as he knew you were close, you barely could kiss him back as his finger rubbed faster against you. You hang from a built moan that was begging to come out but you had to keep shut. 

“Tom,” was the only thing you could barely chant as you rode down your high, his lips hitting down the bottom of your lip as he was staining his clothes with sweat, pushing against you, each time sloppier, stuttering thrusts. 

“Y/N, fuck—“ was all he could said as he came undone. You felt him filling you, as you pursed your lips, shutting any noise that could come from. 

Between heavy breaths he could only connect your lips with his, barely reciprocated lips as you tried to steady your breath out. 

He pulled out as he kept staring at you, his face glimmering with sweat but a big smile was across his face..

*

You watched him and then couldn’t help but laugh again. 

“Y/N!” He rolled his eyes, but chuckled. 

You smirked. “I can’t believe we just did that.” 

“We just joined the mile high club,” he smirked back as he then pulled you back to him. 

“We should probably go back, they might notice.” 

You both cleaned yourselves up and then you walked back to your seat first of course, not forgetting before giving him one last kiss, feeling like everybody was watching you. They weren’t but of course, your brain was precisely thinking that. 

When he walked back to you, he kissed you again. 

“Easy, I am not doing that again,” you warned him. 

He laughed. “I never thought I’d join that club,” he commented. “At least you’re not scared of planes anymore.” 

You snickered nudging him. “Shut up”

He coughed. “You think anybody noticed?” 

You had pulled up the privacy window yet, as q woman was staring at you. “Yes.” 

He laughed. “Bummer.” 

“I don’t do that on first dates,” you mentioned.

“I know, you do it before even dating,” he teased. 

“Dickhead,” you playfully smacked his arm. 

He took the pillow he had behind him and playfully hit you with it. 

“What is wrong with you!” You laughed and then took your own pillow to use it as a weapon. 

However, the flight attendant had come in, of course, she tried not to make a face at two grown adults having a pillow fight on first-class seats. 

She announced your meals or whatever, you tried not to laugh as Tom was trying to keep a straight face. 

You ate and then ended up cuddling again, you ended up watching Back to the Future, against Tom will, and as you were, both of you were trying to find excuses to kiss in between the scenes. He drifted away, holding you close, and you stared at him, his face being more interesting than the sky that was coming from the window.  You thought about his box. Because you’d already jumped down the abyss.   A box full of secrets and full of memories, a box that told the story of how despite everything, you loved him. And you probably didn’t mind. 

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[drethanramslay]

A funny thing called Fate: Chapter 1

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Aisha Khurrana)

Word count: 2.6K words

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist

Warning: None really, just some cursing

Author's note: Hello!! I am back with the first chapter of "A funny thing called Fate" and this time this is in Bryce's POV

Like I said last time, there would be time jumps so you will be seeing both- 16 year old Bryce and present day Bryce

Just a word of caution, 16 year old Bryce (according to me) is your typical bad boy who is a jerk and upholds his reputation and prestige as the most important priorities

I decided to take part in @choicesseptemberchallenge20​ the prompt being- LOST

Also decided to take part in @choicesweeklychallenge​ the prompt being "I just... don't know. Honestly."

Both of them will be in bold

TERMS THAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:

-> kanilehua: Motherfucker (I literally googled curse words in Hawaiian language so please forgive me if they are wrong 🤧)

-> okole: Butt/ Ass

-> budhiya: old woman in Hindi

Forgive me if I make any mistakes

10 years ago- Bryce's POV

"Aloha!!" Bryce's cheerful voice ran clear through the hallways as he approached his teammates, instantly capturing the attention of the people.

"Hey Bryce, my man." Jason, his best friend stepped forward and did a complicated handshake with him before patting his back.

"How was the summer?" Kai, his other best friend spoke up as he leaned against the lockers, his dark hair falling on his eyes.

"You know the usual. Practice and stuff. My parents did take us to Australia. The waves there are sweet." Bryce whistled lowly, remembering how he spent numerous days surfing at sea.

"What a lucky bastard. Do you think your parents would adopt me?" Jason asked causing Kai to chuckle.

At this point, they would want anyone but me as their son. A dark look passed on his face but he hid it behind the over cheerful and happy go lucky mask.

"So, what's up with you guys?!" He asked, smoothly changing the topic.

Jason began. "Well I for one, had a fun summer hanging out at the beach, enjoying the sun-"

"-having flings left, right, centre." Kai completed the sentence, snickering.

"As if you weren't the one who fooled around more. You broke so many hearts, Kai!!" Jason rolled his eyes.

"But I finally settled down, unlike your unsettled ass." Kai exclaimed.

"50 bucks you will break up with him in ten days." Kai narrowed his green eyes and smacked the back of Jason’s head. 

"Wow, seems like I have some catching up to do." Bryce smirked.

Kai turned towards Bryce, suddenly serious. "Glad you brought it up. We have a proposition for you."

Bryce incredulously raised his eyebrow.

"Your two o'clock. Short brunette with glasses. Don't be too obvious."

Bryce ran his hand through his long hair and his amber eyes fell on the girl.

He leaned against the locker near Jason.

"What's her deal?"

"Apparently, she joined the school last year and has been on the low. Keeps to herself, certified nerd, teacher's pet and super uptight."

Bryce eyed her and he recognized that she was in his chemistry class last year.

Aisha Khurrana.

"Wait... That's Aisha. She was in my chemistry class last year. Introverted and quiet."

Jason did a double-take. "Wait really? Well, that makes it easier for us."

"Good. I will make y'all talk to her-"

Kai stopped him midway. "Woah, woah, woah. We don't want to interact with her. You are the one doing this."

"Will one of you kanilehua tell me what the fuck is going on?" Bryce asked, getting annoyed.

"After the legendary prank Ano pulled last year, it's time we step up. So while you were tanning your okole in Australia, Jason and I were brainstorming to come up with a better idea."

Jason continued. "So we decided that you could get her fall in love with you before the finals and boom! We could pull the prank on prom."

Bryce's eyed widened. "Woah, don't you think that's extreme?"

Kai rolled his eyes. "Please, Ano humiliated a teacher and exposed that he was having an affair with a junior. I don't think it's that extreme."

"What is this prank you have planned on prom?"

Jason waved his hand. "We haven't worked out the details but we have the entire year to do that. You on the other hand... Are running out of time."

Bryce's eyebrows furrowed. "And why can't either of you take this up?"

"Because Kai here is surprisingly getting cosy with Kaeo the jock from Sunset High while I am on the principal's radar for the shit I did last year. I am this close to getting expelled." Jason enunciated his point by touching his pointer finger and thumb.

"Jas... you're touching your fingers."

"Exactly."  

"So will you take one for the team?”

Bryce sighed. "I just... don't know. Honestly." 

“Bro, this could literally make or break our popularity bro. You don't want to be the laughing stock of the school, do you?" They asked with puppy eyes.

The peer pressure and the need to uphold his reputation as the golden boy made him raise his hands in defeat. His eyes glanced at the losers down the hall, who people were blatantly ignoring.

Definitely don't want to fall in that category.

"Fine. I will do it. But you will owe me."

"That's our boy." The boys whooped as they clapped his back.

Bryce's eyes wandered to his new target, finding her brown eyes staring right back at him. The flecks of hazel shone with curiosity but her face was impassive as if she didn't want to let anyone in.

Well, this is going to be an interesting year, Aisha Khurrana. Bryce thought to himself.

PRESENT

When Bryce woke up this morning, he didn't think his day would turn out this way.

Who would have fucking thought that the one girl you could never get over shows up at the hospital you are a surgical intern at?

Not me.

He was looking forward to this fresh start. A new city where no one knew who he was and he hoped it stayed that way. To hone his craft and become one of the best surgeons in the country. Anything to get rid of the stains on his name.

After Aisha left at the beginning of Junior year of high school, things were hard. Not that anyone was going to believe him but he actually loved her and no matter how many people he hooked up with, no matter how much he drank himself to oblivion, there was just no getting over her.

He often wondered- no believed that he had lost his one shot at love.

You only get one great love and of course, I had to blow it up, and for what? Popularity? Reputation? That already went down the drain because of my beloved dad.

When he finally got his head in the game and things were bearable, the scandal happened towards the end of the Senior year. Sure, he could hide face during the summers, lounging in his gaudy compound. But he could hear the occasional shouts and protests out of the gates of his home, reminding him that he couldn't escape the truth.

To distract himself from his dad going to trial, his mom selling out to the feds and his baby sister crying from the stress, he dove right into his studies, hoping to score well in his SATs so that he could get away from Maui.

But there was still one year of high school left, and that was fucking awful. He was relentlessly bullied at every turn of the corridor, got the stink eye from the teachers and people jumped away from him as if he was a social pariah.

Technically, I was.  

Though his parents were very tight-lipped about the details of the case, it wasn't that hard to get to know more from the internet. And the fact that the people in his school always made it a point to remind him.

Aisha's dad was one of the people who worked for the company that got screwed over by his dad.

Bryce had given up after all these years that he will ever find her again. He often wondered what would he do if he were to meet her again. The apologies he would say and the monologue on how ‘he was never the same after she left’ had been practised over and over again.

But right there she was, half-naked in front of him, completely at the loss of words. His eyes wandered, making sure if it was the same girl from tenth grade. There was a nose piercing and he saw a little ink near a hip.

"Aisha?" He repeated, completely shocked, his jaw dropped. Never in his entire life has he felt the loss of words.

They stared into each other's eyes, chocolate brown eyes meeting his amber ones, completely lost.

But that moment didn't last for long because Jackie shutting the locker made them realize that this was indeed reality.

Aisha managed to snap out of her reverie. "Oh my fucking god, I don't have time for this shit." She rapidly threw on her fresh sets of scrubs and slammed her locker before making a move.

Bryce stepped in her path, blocking her. "What are you doing here?!"

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, the familiar fire and hatred flooding in those brown orbs. "Well, I could ask you the same thing Mr. I-will-become-a-lawyer. Now out of my way, I'm getting late for the orientation." Though she was short (5 feet 3 inches to be precise), she still managed to slam her shoulder against his chest and walk away.

"Oh My God!!" Jackie's voice resounded after a few quiet moments.

"Put a cap on it nose wipe." He muttered as he rubbed the area where Aisha slammed against him.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yeah but that expression says it all." He rolled his eyes as put his stethoscope into his breast pocket.

"But, for real. Who is she?" Jackie asked, inquisitiveness laced in her voice.

Bryce flicked her nose. "I found your nose in my business, why don't you take it right out?"

"Ugh. Fine. Keep your secrets. C'mon, let us get to the orientation before it gets over."

"Yap. Right behind you."  The duo headed towards the main atrium and made their way towards the front so that they could hear the hospital chief. The rest of the interns were already gathered in front of the stairs upon which an impressive, statuesque woman stood and spoke.

That is Dr Harper Emery!! Bryce thought to himself, as the very thought of standing in the very same room as his inspiration made him giddy. He turned to talk but the excitement instantly vanished because thanks to his amazing luck, he ended up standing right next to Aisha.

The universe, what games are you playing against me? Bryce let out a sigh which caught Aisha's attention. She just gave an annoying glance and stared up, as if to ask why was this happening to her.

Both of them turned away from each other and focused on what Dr Emery was saying. "... because as of today, you are no longer students, You are doctors."

Aisha turned towards Jackie and whispered. "Psst. Who is that?"

Jackie whipped her head towards Aisha's short build. "I don't know if you are joking or are serious."

Aisha's ears getting red was the only confirmation Jackie needed. Her jaw dropped and she was physically incapacitated, unable to speak before she finally managed to string together words.

"Seriously? Did you learn medicine in the woods or something?"

Aisha's eyes narrowed and Bryce just knew that if he didn't intervene Aisha would absolutely roast Jackie and her lineage.

So, in a low voice, he spoke up. "That's Harper Emery, the hospital's new chief." A smile made his way on his face as he continued to talk about her. "She's a total badass! World-famous head of neurosurgery before she got promoted."

He turned towards Jackie, smirking. "Guess she's just a scalpel jockey too, huh?"

Giving a Cheshire grin she responded. "She's the only scalpel jockey who deserves rights."

Aisha gave a stiff nod before turning back towards the Chief.

Someone is definitely a ray of sunshine. Bryce thought to himself. His conscience promptly snarked. Bold of you to assume that this isn't your fault.

Brain... Stop. as he shook his head to shake off the guilt that slowly swirled in his chest.

"More will be demanded of you that you've ever experienced. Some of you will buckle under the pressure. Some of you will quit. But some... some of you will thrive."

"Damn... She is so inspiring... I feel like I can do anything." Aisha whispered, her brown eyes sparkling with admiration.

"Well then, can I inspire you to pipe down? I'm trying to listen."

"Can I inspire you to get your ears checked, budhiya?" Jackie looked offended but you could see the glint of amusement and respect in her eyes.

"Girls, can this fight wait until after the speech?" Bryce muttered.

"This is not fighting. This is us bonding scalpel jockey. Get on the same page." Jackie whispered causing Aisha to smirk.

"I give up. But please for the love of everything good can we keep it on the low." He shot a pleading look and they managed to shut up.

"You've been entrusted with a sacred duty: the care and wellbeing of every man, woman and child who enters this hospital. Are you ready?"

The interns promptly burst into applause and they look around, sharing excited smiles with their new colleagues.

Harper Emery raised her hand, to silence the applause. "You'll be introduced to your senior residents tomorrow but for now, you'll be partnering up for your first patients. Your assignments are posted on the board. Good luck, doctors!!"

Bryce swaggered up to his board and searched for his name and found out that he was paired with a Samantha.

Wait for a second... that name sounds fami-

"You?" He swirled around towards the feminine sound and as soon as his eyes landed on her, the memories hit him.

Him running his hands through her hair whilst they kissed passionately against the door of her apartment. Her running her hands down his abs and pulling him by the loops of his belt. Both of them lost in the sensation of each other and Bryce still had the scratch marks on his back to remind him of the amazing night they had the previous day.

"Sam? I didn't know you worked here!!"

"Well fate is a funny thing, isn't it? So apparently we are partners?"

"Yap and we need to take our cases from the residents and be on our way. Are you ready?" Bryce asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I was born ready baby." Sam winked as she started pushing her way through the throng of interns and Bryce followed suit.

When they finally were free, Jackie showed up next to him followed by Aisha and another girl who had a striking resemblance to Chief Emery.

"See you later meathead."

"Try not to miss me too much." He winked before glancing towards Aisha. Their eyes met and she immediately looked the other way, chatting with her partner.

"It's a beautiful day to save lives. Let's have some fun, shall we?" Sam asked her eyes twinkling which just made Bryce smile.

-------------------------------------------------------------

It was going good so far. He had been allotted two cases that day. One with a routine appendectomy and the second one being a benign tumour removal from the right lung. With a cool, calm collected mind, the two of them diagnosed the patients, raising eyebrows.

"Dr Lahela, what is the treatment plan?" Dr Tanaka, the head of cardiovascular surgery asked.

"Well we are administering her with tumour shrinking drugs like bromocriptine so that we could decrease the size and then after a couple of days we will take her for surgery."

Dr Tanaka gave a nod of appreciation. Sam turned and held the young patient's hand. "Miss, you are in good hands and if you have any more questions you can always ask for us."

"Thank you so much, Dr Anderson."

They stepped out of the room and Bryce shut the door behind them.

"Keep an eye on her and do checks every four hours. Good job." Dr Tanaka turned on his heels and only when he was out of earshot Sam fist-bumped Bryce.

"The surgical society is back at it again."

"God Sam that was awful." He groaned as he pulled his pen out to sign the charts.

"Well, that just means I need to keep thinking of names for the dynamic duo. See you later byeee."

He shook his head and gave the charts to the nurses' station before whistling down the confusing corridors of Edenbrook when suddenly he heard a thud sound from the nearby supply closet.

Must be a doctor who is not having a good day.

He stopped before the door, contemplating whether he should enter or leave but his instinct to help overpowered and he cracked open the door to see Aisha leaning heavily against the racks, her back towards him. Her shoulders were shaking and he could hear her heavy breathing.

He was about to leave unnoticed when Aisha’s voice wafted over to him. “get in or get out. Don’t hold it open.” She glanced towards the door and Bryce knew that he could kiss his unnoticed exit goodbye.

Oh boy. 

Oh? so we have a new character 👀 And um that really wasn't the reunion Bryce was looking forward to lol

And now the supply closet yikes yikes yikes okay now i will shut up heheheh

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[jalapeno-princess]

Cyber Sex

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Genre: Fluffy ass smut 

Warning: Masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, cussing, breast play

Summary: Your boyfriend Mark is currently in Japan for a conference and seeing you wearing nothing but his shirt leads to fingering yourself to his commands.

A/N: Based on the song “Cyber Sex” by Doja Cat. I am so excited for their comeback, I’m broke as a fucking joke but it’s fine. I’m FINE. Happy reading.

I wanna touch on you You see me in my room Wish you were here right now All of the things I'd do I wanna get freaky on camera I love when we get freaky on camera

The word tired wasn’t even enough to describe exactly how you were feeling right now. You were exhausted beyond belief to say the least. Being a full time college student; majoring in both criminal justice and journalism on top of having a full time job at one of the most prestigious and reputable law firms in your state wasn’t the most ideal situation, but you made it work. Well, for the most part. 

Your mental health these days has been at an all time low; you were being overworked to the point where you were afraid you could suffer from either a mental breakdown or panic attack at the rate you were headed. Unfortunately, the only person who knew how to keep you from completely reaching the brink of insanity was currently thousands of miles away from you. Your boyfriend of over three years—Mark; was in Japan for a very important conference that the company he was working for sent him on in order to represent his department. 

Although he was the youngest in his career field; Mark knew exactly what to say and do to build partnerships and to gain the trust of many other company shareholders. Your boyfriend was quite the charmer; sometimes you did grow jealous when you’d observe how some of his colleagues and a few of his clients would look at him in such a way that you thought only you were allowed to. 

As much as you wanted to be upset with the women who were bold enough to ask him out even if they knew he was in a relationship, you couldn’t really blame them for finding him attractive and attempting to make a move on him. Mark was the definition of a sight for sore eyes. He was gorgeous and exceedingly handsome—however, Mark was way more than just a pretty face, a well-defined and extremely toned body and a deep, raspy voice that never failed to get you groveling at your knees. 

He was extremely kind and generous to every single person he’s ever met in his life. You always considered him to be somewhat of an angel; an ethereal being here on earth because there was no way someone who was both ridiculously breathtaking on the outside was just as wonderful on the inside. Sometimes, you felt as if he deserved better than you. From a very young age, you never thought much about yourself; you didn’t care all too much about the way you looked, you didn’t consider yourself smart, funny nor did you have any impressive talent. 

However, Mark never failed to make you feel as if you were the most beautiful creature he has ever laid his eyes on. He reminded you both physically and verbally on a daily basis that he loved you more than anyone and anything on this he’ll forsaken earth. You were his person, his soulmate—the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. You don’t know what it was that you did in your past life to be the lucky person to call him your boyfriend, but you would do it again and again if it meant having him in each and every lifetime. 

It was hard having to be away from him every now and then—especially on the days when you felt as if the entire world was against you for not doing anything right. Deep down, you knew you were doing the best you can but it was as if your best wasn’t good enough for other people. Since Mark was a day ahead but six hours behind, you were sure he had to be busy attending a convention or going over his notes to prepare for meetings he had mentioned to you a couple of times in the last week. 

As much as you wanted to call him just to hear his voice; even if it were just for a few minutes, you didn’t want to bother him. He had other things to worry about—the stress and frustration caused by your responsibilities would only worry him and you knew he didn’t need that. You made your way in to the bathroom and started getting ready to go to sleep. You wiped off any trace of makeup from your face, brushed your teeth and took off your clothes before throwing on one of Mark’s shirts. 

Right as you were about to throw yourself in to the comfort of your bed, you heard your phone sound off on the night stand and because you had a huge feeling it was Mark trying to get in touch with you, you practically flung yourself across the threshold and reached for your phone while flopping down on your sheets.

Babe: Hey, you didn’t let me know if you got home. Are you alright? Can we FaceTime? I miss seeing your pretty face so much. 11:27 P.M.

Whatever exhaustion you felt from earlier immediately disappeared; the want and need to talk to your boyfriend was far stronger than any amount of tiredness you felt. You got up and grabbed your laptop—preferring to look at him on a bigger screen since your vision wasn’t all that great from taking out your contacts. He was quick to answer before the first ring and you could feel your chest warm up at the sight of him. 

No matter what he wore, he always seemed to take your breath away. Whether it was a flannel and some skinny jeans or just a pair of grey sweats when the two of you would lounge around your shared apartment—a blush would always seem to rise on your cheeks just because he was so annoyingly attractive. However, seeing him in a suit; looking extremely classy with his hair pulled back so you could see the entirety of his handsome face made your stomach sore in the best way. God, why did he have to be thousands of miles away from you? 

“Baby!” You gave him a soft smile and sat up properly in order to get a better look at him. 

“Hey—are you right about to go in to a meeting or something? You look very handsome babe.” He gave you his infamous cheeky grin—one he always flashed whenever you would compliment him. Mark, even at the prime age of twenty-seven could still get so shy and flustered at the smallest little things. Especially whenever you would go in to detail about his charming features or how his cute little butt always looked good in a pair of slacks. 

He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment before biting his lip. You were soon growing envious at the thought of how many women got to see him looking like a Greek-God while in his element. Although you have only seen a few videos of the speeches he would give at conventions and conferences, you observed just how confident he was when it came to his craft. When it came to talking with other people—sometimes even when the two of you would go out to dinner with your parents, he was always so timid and soft spoken. 

Yet, he seemed to change in to a completely different person in environments where he was meant to persuade clients in to buying stocks with his company. You couldn’t help but find it cute whenever he would act flustered around you—especially because in the bedroom and behind close doors, he was the complete opposite of shy. 

“Oh—uh, thanks. I actually just came back from a luncheon. It was boring as hell and honestly I didn’t hear a thing anyone had to say, I was too busy thinking of you. God, I hate having to attend these fucking conferences—I mean I love traveling; it’s not like we can really go around anyway and even if we could, I’d use all my free time talking to you. I hate any moment spent without you baby. Tell me about your day; how was work? Did you finally take that exam you’ve been studying for these last two weeks—oh shit. I didn’t realize what time it was there, I’m sorry baby. You must be tired, I can call you back tomorrow—“ 

You waved your hand out at him signaling that it was okay. Even if you had to be up in less than five hours, you were perfectly fine with the idea of getting no sleep at all tonight if it meant talking to your favorite person until the sun rose. 

“It’s fine Mark. I miss you too—so much. I can always message my professor and tell her I’m sick if I’m not feeling up to attending class tomorrow. Work was work; tiring and frustrating as it always is and school is well—school. Nothing new. I want to hear about you though—“

“We’ll get to me later baby. It hurts knowing that you’re going through something—I’m sure there’s more to it that you’re not telling me. I hate that you suffer by yourself and it’s even harder when I’m away and I can’t hold you and tell you that everything is going to be okay. But it will be and you know why? Because you have me. I got you y/n. You know you can always run to me—confide in me. That’s what I’m here for. To help carry your burden with you. I’m sure you’re well aware that I want nothing more than to carry your problems in your place. I would do anything just to make you happy—I hope you know that. I probably don’t say it as often as I should, but fuck—I just want to give you the whole world; the entire universe because it’s what you deserve.” 

You could feel the tears brimming at your eyelids and if he was there with you, you would probably playfully shove him for making you cry with his sweet words before leaving chaste kisses all over his face. One thing you admired about your boyfriend, on top of the infinite amount of other things was his way with words. Mark preferred to show you through his actions rather than tell you with his words exactly what you meant to him but when he did speak up about his feelings, your heart would combust in to a million different pieces. 

He even wrote you a couple of letters filled with love and adoration because he wanted to remind you when he wasn’t around that you were all he could ever want and need for the rest of his life. The two of you talked for around half an hour until you found yourself re-positioning yourself when your leg got a cramp for sitting on it too long. You didn’t think anything of it, but as soon as you fixed yourself, you were quick to notice how Mark’s jaw was now clenched as he began grazing his teeth along his bottom lip. 

You’ve been with him long enough to know what his ministrations and movements meant; those two in particular usually meant that he was either uncomfortable or horny. But you didn’t understand how he could be either; he was fine just a few seconds ago—why was he looking as if he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. 

“Hey Mark, everything okay?”

“Is that my shirt?” 

You looked down at his black champion tee that was practically swallowing you whole, just like most of his clothes that you’d find yourself wearing every now and then. He never failed to rave about how sexy you looked in his clothes and sometimes he didn’t have the willpower to let it stay on you for all too long before ripping it off and showing you the effect that seeing you in any of his clothes would do for him. 

Your hair was a mess, there were bags under your eyes and your lips were chapped from not feeling the need to moisturize them; so you didn’t feel like you were at all ravishing or attractive in any way. Surely, seeing you in his shirt couldn’t be the reason why he was riled up all of a sudden—could it? 

“Oh, yeah. I was so exhausted I just grabbed the closest item of clothing near the sink. Is there something wrong? It smells good. Just like you—wait, is it dirty? Did you not wash it yet? I can go change—“

“No no—shit—can you lean back or something? I want to see you, full body.” 

You did as you were told and pushed your computer further away from where you were sitting before moving back just a little in order for him to get a better look at you. It wasn’t till you saw him gulp as a whimper fell from the back of his throat did you know exactly what was going on. 

“Mark—“

“Fuck—you look so fucking breathtaking Y/n—so damn sexy—don’t get me wrong, you always look so beautiful. But when you’re in one of my shirt it’s just—why the fuck am I in Japan right now this is bullshit.” 

A soft giggle fell from your lips; whenever Mark would get horny, that was when he was the most vocal about his emotions. He was extremely vulgar and his words were always so dirty; so naughty. It was funny listening to him talk on the phone to his boss or a couple of his colleagues knowing just how filthy and lewd he could be during your love making sessions. Your boyfriend was the definition of dominant. 

There were a few occasions where he would allow you to take charge—when you would dominate him, you would put all your effort and energy in to driving him to the brink of insanity. The older boy didn’t know what he preferred; edging you until you would beg for him to let you cum, or being tied up to the bed while you ride him at an exceedingly quickened pace. You could feel the warmth building in between your thighs at his words on top of the frustration that he wasn’t there to help you with the forming orgasm you were now completely aware of. 

“You know babe, now that you’ve mentioned it—I do feel pretty warm in here. Maybe I should take this off.” 

You decided to mess with him; knowing that he was probably suffering and trying to hide the fact that he was definitely hard as a rock right now. His shirt was gently thrown to the side of the bed and soon your breasts were on full display for him. Watching his jaw drop at the sight of your bare chest only made you want to continue putting on a show for him. Slowly, you brought your hands up and cupped both your breasts in your hands—massaging and kneading your mounds all but gently before bringing your nipples in between your fingers and twisting them. 

Breast play had to be one of your favorite forms of foreplay; specifically because Mark—well, the asshole was good at every single thing he did. Sports, cooking and baking, education, singing, cracking unsolved mysteries and blowing your mind in more ways than one. His fingers; they had to be the prettiest fingers you’ve ever seen on someone before and you weren’t being biased because he was your boyfriend. 

Mark had such long, skinny fingers and he knew exactly how to use them. His hands were almost double the size of yours—yet your hands fit perfectly together as if you were made for one another. Although you were very insecure about your body, no matter how many times Mark practically worshipped it and reminded you how he loved every single one of your body parts; especially your face, breasts, thighs and ass, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confident in your boobs. Honestly, your breasts were one of the only parts that you genuinely liked about yourself. 

Sometimes, you would wear certain tops that showed enough cleavage to get a rise out of your boyfriend and every single time, you did. Mark looked as if his eyes were about to pop out of his head and you had to stifle back a few moans from how good it felt. No matter how much you were enjoying this; playing with yourself in front of your boyfriend, you knew it would feel so much better if he was the one doing it to you. 

“Fuck Y/n, you’re going to be the death of me. Shit—what I wouldn’t give to be the one fondling your pretty titties. Fuck—just wait till I get home princess. I’m gonna suck the shit out of them; you’re going to regret this. You’re so beautiful—I can’t get over how gorgeous you are. You’re really going to kill me.” You gave him a smirk and playfully brought your bottom lip in between your teeth. “Mmm—Mark—feels so good—“

“I bet it does baby—you look so ethereal—twisting your perky nipples like that. But I’m sure it doesn’t feel as nice as it would if it were me. Shit y/n—I want to titty fuck you so badly right now. I swear, it’s like your breasts get bigger whenever I’m away. Should I show you just how crazy you’re driving me right now?” 

You immediately nodded in agreement; the desire to see Mark’s cock was seeping through your veins. You didn’t care if you came off too eager or too excited; it’s been almost three weeks since you’ve seen your boyfriend and even longer since he was buried balls deep inside of you. Sex wasn’t a huge deal in your relationship—well, it was both yours and Mark’s favorite physical activity, but unlike other couples, you cared about other forms of intimacy just as much as you did making love. 

Mark was a huge fan of cuddling, spooning and holding hands. Your boyfriend was extremely clingy and overprotective whenever it came to you; but that was just apart of his nature. He wasted no time in yanking off his slacks; the outline of his cock was prominent against his grey briefs. You could feel your mouth water at the sight; to some people, penises were very ugly, but something about Mark’s always had you on your knees—begging for him to shove it down your throat. His girth was long and extremely thick. As soon as he took off his underwear, you suddenly stopped your movements and eagerly leaned forward to get a better look at him. 

“Someone’s excited.”

“That’s the understatement of the year. I could cum right now just at the sight of your tits alone. Fuck—you’re the one who caused this painful ass erection baby, I wish you were the one who would solve it.” He spit on his hand and brought the saliva down to the tip of his cock; he lubricated himself and you could feel your breath hitch when he let out a soft moan. 

“Babe—fuck Mark, there’s nothing more I want than to suck you off—“ If this were under different circumstances, you were sure he’d let out a snarky chuckle like he normally would every time you made it clear that you wanted to blow him; or if you wanted sex. You were always so soft spoken; so modest and you hardly ever were vocal when it came to voicing your desires. 

You were more of the type to mess around with him; gliding your hands gently along his thigh, palming him through his pants and even hovering over his lap; grinding yourself against his dick while leaving wet kisses against the juncture of his neck. Whether it was because you were extremely turned on or because it’s been a while since you and your boyfriend were intimate, but sometime came over you and you felt yourself wanting to take over of this cyber sex session.

“Mark—close your eyes baby. I want to take care of you. Pretend I’m there with you and do as I say. Grab the bottom of your cock; bring your thumb along the vein and slowly pump yourself.” 

Watching the veins on his neck grow made it adamant that he was enjoying your dominance and you used that to your advantage. He let out a very faint whine; you wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t giving him your full attention and you were well aware that if you were to touch yourself, you’d be soaking at this point. 

“Circle your thumb around your tip, and graze the slit as gently as possible. God Mark—I’ll purchase a ticket to Tokyo right now just to wrap my mouth around your cock.” This earned you a mixture of a laugh and a cough and you found yourself laughing along with him. 

“Is that a promise? We can put this on pause and I’ll buy one for you; you don’t even need to pack a thing. All I need is you—keep talking like that and you’re going to lose your voice once I get home. I know I keep saying this, but it’s because it’s true and I can’t get over it—you’re so fucking sexy. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but just know that I love you; with every breath I take and every single beat of my heart. I love you more than I will ever be able to express to you in words. As much as I want to continue going in to depth about the love I have for you, you can’t be having all the fun here. Take off your underwear y/n—I can’t believe you’re wearing that one. How did I forget to take it with me? I remembered to sneak the matching bra in my suitcase—“

“So that’s where it went, I’ve been looking for it since you left—weirdo.”

“Hey, you have your kinks and I have mine. Now—take off your panty and do as I say.” 

With a quick roll of your eyes, you stripped yourself free of your red thong and flung it across of the room. It was probably a mess now with all your pieces of clothing lying around, but you didn’t care. There was a flame burning in your core that you wanted to hurry up and get around to reaching your release. This wasn’t the first time the two of you had sex over webcam; but you felt as if this time would be different from your past experiences. 

Not only did you miss your boyfriend terribly, but you’ve been daydreaming about the last time the two of you made love the night before he left and you could still feel the way his cock stretched out your walls. Your fingers absentmindedly made their way down to your entrance; you brought your index and your middle finger in your mouth and sucked on them before returning them back down to your folds. 

“Fuck—fuck, fuck—such a pretty little mouth and an even prettier pussy. Tell me baby—who does that pussy belong to? Tell me while you drag your digits along your core y/n.” 

You traced your fingers back and forth along your entrance; gathering some of your essence on your fingers and bringing them back to your mouth. During most of your sexual activities—Mark, whether it would be when he would finger you or when he would eat you out, would have you taste yourself so you were well aware why he was so addicted to the way your pussy tasted. 

Although you were a big fan of giving him blow jobs, Mark was a professional at giving head. He ate your pussy like it was a delicacy and he was very vocal about how pleasuring you brought him equal amounts of pleasure himself. Next to fucking your tits and ramming himself inside of you, he loved going down on you. On the days that work was extremely stressful, or your classes were bombarding you with too many assignments; Mark would take care of you—either making you dinner or ordering your favorite food, preparing you a bubble bath, and sucking the life out of your pussy in order to take your mind off of your many frustrations. 

You sucked your fingers dry of all your pre-cum and let out a loud pop before returning them back to their previous position. Multiple swears and wanton moans left Mark’s mouth as he continued to guide his hand back and forth along his cock all the while watching you shove your fingers inside of your cunt. It felt amazing; anytime the two of you were intimate—even on the days you were both exhausted beyond belief and just gave each other oral to both reach your highs, you could never get over the feeling of ecstasy and euphoria that came over you every time Mark would bring you to heaven with his tongue. 

It was in that moment that you realized the last time you kissed him was almost a month ago. If your schedule wasn’t so hectic, you probably would have went with your boyfriend. The two of you were like magnets; everywhere you went, people could expect Mark to follow no matter where it was. Most boyfriends would get bored having to wait outside while their girlfriends went shopping, but Mark would follow you around to each and every store; he even gave his opinion on what he thought would look good on you and what he would love to rip off of you. 

To your dismay, he would pay for everything even against your many complaints but like he said, he just wanted to make you happy. He felt bad that he had to travel all around the world a lot, so he felt like he wanted to buy you a couple of things to make up for being absent every so often. 

There were days your boyfriend contemplated on quitting his job and finding one that didn’t require him to leave all the time; but this job had amazing benefits and because he was still so young, yet had a position that most of his coworkers twenty years his senior haven’t even experienced before, he knew he wouldn’t be able to find a job even half as good as the one he had now. But he would give it all up and even work as a barista or a cashier in a grocery store if it meant being able to see you, kiss you, hold you and go to bed with you in his arms every single day. 

“Damnit y/n—ahhh—you’re such a goddess—my pretty petal—pump yourself harder baby. Faster—tell me how it feels. Grab your clit and twist it in between your fingers; I bet you’re like the Pacific Ocean right now. I’m sure you’re just as tight as you are wet baby. Keep going. Pretend it’s me; burying my long fingers in that tight cunt of yours. I can just picture how good you feel clenching around me. Flick your clit; ugh, I miss nibbling on it and taking it in between my teeth. I miss the way you would tighten your thighs around my head—and don’t even get me started on how much I miss whenever you would ride my face. I don’t think I can handle being away from you much longer y/n—it’s not even just because I miss fucking you—I mean I do—God do I miss railing the shit out of you—but I miss you. So much. I miss seeing your contagious smile that I’m sure could cure cancer, and your laugh that never fails to light up an entire room. I miss your lips and how they meld perfectly against mind. I miss looking at your beautiful eyes and the way you tell a story with them. I miss being the cause of the blush on your cheeks. I can’t wait to finally finish here and come back home to you. Just a couple more days baby then I’m all yours okay. Have I ever told you how grateful I am that you’re so patient? Thank you for waiting for me y/n—I—love you—“ 

You could feel tears brimming at the corner of your eyelids. Although you were just moments away from coming on your fingers, his words tugged on your heartstrings. Sure, he texted you every single day and told you that he would much rather be home with you; sat in between your legs and leaning his head against your chest while he played video games—but it was so heartwarming hearing him describe every single thing he missed about you. 

“I miss you too Mark—I would do anything for you. I’ll wait for however long you need me to my love. I love you—I hope you know that you’re the only good thing I’ve got going for me. I don’t care what happens in the future; I just really want you in it.” 

The two of you continued your movements; you quickened your pace; you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release. Your fingers felt so amazing being clenched by your velvety walls and you were actually doing really well with picturing that it was Mark fingering you. His movements were just as relentless and he even began fondling his balls. He tilted his head back and the sight made you whimper at how erotic it was. His neck; along with everything else on his body was long and you could still faintly see a couple of the love-bites you left on his collarbone. Before you knew it, you felt a sticky substance on your fingers and allowed yourself to come on your digits before releasing an embarrassingly loud moan. 

“Holy shit—that was so fucking hot. Suck your fingers for me baby—help me reach my release—shit, shit, shit—“ 

His semen squirted out in rapid spurts and you were upset that you weren’t able to feel him fill you up to the hilt with his warm, creamy liquid. His hair clung to his forehead as sweat dripped down the sides of his cheek. You were sure if you were to look in the mirror, your hair would be just as tousled and your cheeks would be flushed. 

The two of you spent a couple moments in comfortable silence; both coming down from your highs. He took a little while longer to come to his senses and you used this time to look at him in awe of just how breathtaking he was. This was a common occurrence right after the two of you finished your love making sessions; you would bask in each other’s presence and sometimes if you were still up for it, the two of you would talk until one of you would finally let sleep take over. Once you were both settled down, you gave him a soft smile and flopped on to the bed. 

“Honestly, I think I’m going to get a good nights rest now. Thank you baby, that was wonderful. I’m sure I would have came faster if it was your cock inside of me, but that was a good distraction nonetheless.” He beamed at you. 

“No, thank you. That was mind blowing as always y/n. I can’t wait until I have you in my arms—and on my cock. I love watching you as you cum—I wish you could see what I see, your expression when you reach your orgasm is so fucking tantalizing. I plan on having you the entire day when I come back home, so just be ready baby. Wait—you’re not going to bed naked are you—“

“Oh—I wasn’t planning to, but now that I know it’s probably going drive you insane—“

“You wouldn’t dare—fuck—just wait until I get my hands on you—“

You gave him a sultry smirk and began running your fingers in between the valley of your breasts. “Hmmm, I might just take the day off just to touch myself. Might even walk around the place naked. Too bad my boyfriend isn’t here to fuck me up against the balcony or up against the fridge—“ 

The growl that came from the back of his throat did not go unnoticed to you and you found the coil in your tummy tightening again. Only Mark Tuan could get you horny again minutes after getting you to come on your fingers. Even if he repeatedly called you sexy almost fifteen minutes ago; you felt like that word didn’t do him justice. 

“That’s it—I’m telling my supervisor I need to come home. Tonight. I’m gonna kiss the shit out of you then fuck the shit out of you.” 

You weren’t sure if he was just saying that in the heat of the moment, but you were soon growing excited at the thought of finally being wrapped in his embrace again. As much as you wanted to keep up the sexual banter; you came to the realization that Mark was only half naked. His dress shirt was soaked with sweat and his tie was flipped around the other way. He looked at you in confusion once you bursted in to a fit of laughter. 

“What’s so funny?”

“I hope you packed a few other dress shirts; you have cum stains all over the bottom.” He released a frustrated grunt before sticking his tongue out at you. 

“They’re all in my dirty laundry pile. I was planning on using this one for the rest of the week. See, even the more reason to come home tonight. I expect you on your hands and knees once I get home. As fun as it was watching you fuck yourself with your fingers through webcam, nothing compares to seeing the real thing in person. I think it’s time you go to bed, you’re going to need all the energy you can get for what I have in mind for the both of us. Sweet dreams baby, I’ll see you real soon.”