#makes me excited for when they make a new standalone game

[wereh0gz]

Started replaying sonic frontiers and have been having a blast but also why is the switch version so fucked

[schoenpepper]

How about for our early xmas gift, you give us a version where Yuu comes back to twst again🙂

(You broke my heart po💔)

Maybe This Time

Intro: Everything changed after you left. But maybe he still stayed the same.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, jade is veryy bad, kinda yandere ish

A/N: Counted as a sequel to this, though you can probably read it as a standalone. Sige na nga anonnie merry xmas happy new year nlng sayo haha. Maybe this tiiiime it'll be lovin' they'll find—*gets shot*

Masterlist

Jade forgets what it's like to live.

The day you left, all color drained from the world he resides in. Rather, your absence pushed him from being an active participant into one that only watches.

Still, it only takes him a day to get back to work.

"You can take a longer break."

He waves off Azul with such a well-practiced smile even he might believe it. "I don't need a break. What is it for, even? There's no use reminiscing over such boring things."

Boring.

Boring boring boring.

The word makes him livid. It makes him seethe with a burning, passionate anger he was unaware was even stored within him. Maybe that's why you left. Maybe Jade failed to excite you. He and his brother are people that stay because of interest, so perhaps the reason you left was because Jade could no longer interest you. Is that it?

Why else?

Why else would you shatter him the first chance that you get?

It takes him one week to forget.

Not you. Sevens know he'll never forget you. You were a whirlwind that crashed through everything he knew and smashed him to smithereens. It takes him a week to forget that he's still hiding his pain.

He forgets he's in pain.

You're a rotting, festering wound that he's buried under layers of pretend. He's such a good actor even Floyd is—

"Stop cryin'."

Well. Maybe not Floyd. Jade raises a hand to his cheek and finds no tears. "You weren't crying. But I made you look, right?" Floyd grins, "Hurry and pack. Maybe nonna can help you get over shrimpy. She's real good at life advice~"

He's sure life advice won't help, but it wouldn't hurt (any more) to try.

The waters of the Coral Sea are frigid. It doesn't numb him enough when he's so used to it, but it's alright. He's fine, anyway. There's no more regret. No more bitter hatred. Only the familiar salt of the ocean water. His parents mean well when they fret over him, asking his twin brother for details. His grandmother is worriedly chattering over his shoulder, and he's made aware that he's unable to fool them this time. He's good at pretending. His family couldn't pick out his faux smiles when he's entangled in mischief, nor could they identify the mock innocence he likes to act out when he gets into fights with other mer. But now, why now? Why are they able to press their hand on that beating, dead thing in his chest and attempt to comfort it when the only thing it wants to do is wallow and wither in nothingness?

They couldn't tell when he was pretending to be good.

But they can tell that he's pretending to be okay.

It doesn't make sense.

It takes one month for everything to fall back in routine. Sleeping potions and pills and spells aid in nights when he's preoccupied with memories of a person he wished never existed at all.

His grades are higher than they'd ever been, and he's so ridiculously productive. It's all on track. Everything is just as it was before you. There was a time in his life before you. He can fill in the empty spot you'd left behind with dirt and the pieces of himself you'd killed that fateful day.

And thus, there will be a time after you.

"Jade," Azul hands him a familiar plush toy, "Floyd told me to give this back to you."

The felt shrimp plushie is mocking him; there is no other explanation. It's one half of a pair, actually. In some dingy arcade in town was a claw machine filled with small mushroom, shrimp, egg, onion, and garlic plushies. The owner called the machine "shrimp fried crane game". You were the one to win one mushroom plushie you kept for yourself, and you gave him the shrimp.

The mushroom was in your suitcase.

In his rampage (he wouldn't call it that, really), he had destroyed everything that reminded him of you that same night, or rather, early morning. He watched polaroids and love letters burn inside a metal dumpster he'd hauled from school grounds. The shrimp wasn't part of the bonfire.

It seems Floyd had snuck it away.

He inspects the toy with his usual smile, tight-lipped and close-eyed, nodding at Azul. He wants it out of his sight for a long, long time. If it could feel as forgotten as he felt, let those feelings be transferred to you. He wishes you pain and agony and guilt and regret.

It takes one year for him to let out a genuine chuckle.

His twin brother stares at him like he'd grown a second head, and Jade is aware it's unusual. Even though the joke he'd laughed at was so inane, the fact of the matter was that he laughed, which in itself is so strange. Perhaps this is a good thing. No, it can only be a good thing. What is it if not a sign that he's healing?

And soon, he won't remember you at all.

And you will cease to exist in his mind.

But it's not meant to happen today.

No, with that little laugh, grief like several tonnes of cement hit him right where it hurts the most; it's heavy, and debilitating, and it makes it nigh impossible for him to even breathe.

(Because you were the air he once consumed, and neither humans nor mer are made for such long term suffocation.)

"I've never seen you laugh before," the young man in front of him smiles with thick, syrupy lovesickness, "it suits you."

The person is an underclassman who'd been following him around recently. Like a poor mockup of your silhouette, he hears the same promises you couldn't keep from the mouth of another. It irks him more than he'd like to admit, because if he does, then it means admitting that he still remembers you. It means he still holds you up in his altar and lights flames in your name.

He does not.

Whoever says otherwise, whether it be Floyd or Azul, or Silver or Riddle; they all lie.

He only remembers you in anger. In bouts of madness that makes him question your existence, it is then that your name leaves his lips.

It takes one decade.

For what?

For forgiveness? For the hate to fade?

On his 27th birthday, his phone rings with a number he's long since engraved in his heart.

Jade forgot how to live in your absence.

In the decade you'd left, he only existed. It is a passive state of consistent routine that allows him to appear normal to his peers. Still, his closest people know he was left incomplete. He became a creature without a sense of purpose, and it was a sad thing. How pitiful it was for a predator to be reduced to a vessel containing shards of a broken heart.

Still, it is your name that he finds. It is your number.

A number from a phone kept in some dark corner of NRC's storage room. It's likely a student who decided to scroll through your contacts and found his contact name amusing. You did have quite the strange penchant for putting strange names in your contact list.

He answers the call in a moment of boredom.

There is nothing interesting to do in a business party.

"Hello? Jade?"

He stops. There is nothing in this world or yours that could erase each and every memory he's ever made with you. The voice is one he's heard often and dreams and even more in nightmares; it has replaced the voice of his dead conscience and pushed him to a meaningless drifting existence instead of finding thrill in things you would despise him for.

It's been a decade and instead of forgetting you, he didn't know when he melded you into his bones and stitched you into the fabric of his soul, but he knows you more than he knows himself.

"I'm back."

There is no more bitter hatred. There is no more regret.

"Can you pick me up?"

In one moment, it all dissipates into nothingness and there is only you.

Jade remembers how to breathe again. He feels that withered thing in his chest beat once more, and he feels alive.

It takes one decade for you to return.

And he didn't know he was waiting for you, but then, what could every second without you have meant if not just an endless eternity of patiently waiting?

"Did you see my message?"

"I did."

"Are you not afraid I'll make good on my promise?"

"I've never been afraid of you."

Yet, perhaps you should be. He may no longer despise you with every fiber of his being, but you'd betrayed him and lost his trust. There will be no more second chances. You will stay unlike before, and if he must break every mirror in the world to ensure his heart remains beating, then it will be all too easy.

Taglist:

@yummyyummyinmytumny @lemon-koii @fsh1

[harrystylesfan2686]

"Truth Or Dare?"

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: Another game night. Mor playing cupid.

A/N: thank you so much everyone who read and liked "Whould you rather...?". I love you all very much. This is kind of a second part to that but can be read as a standalone. I hope you fun reading this. 😁😏

Masterlist

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Another day, Another game night.

A whole month passed, and we still haven't gotten free of all the work. I guess rebuilding a whole continent takes time. Cassian's been spending time with Nesta quite a lot lately, giving her training sessions. Even though nothing is going on between them, I can see how they look at each other. Those secret glances and soft touches they give each other.

I hate to admit it but It makes me jealous.

When I told Mor about it, she gave me a confused look. Apparently nobody but me thinks that they have something going on.

So sitting right now, near Cass, I can't focus on anything. My mind constantly goes back to that slight smirk I saw Cassian give Nesta this morning. I push the thoughts away and try to listen to my friends playing.

Somehow, Cass convinced everyone to play truth and dare. He ignored everyone's whines and took out one of rhys's wine bottle that we'd finished. When we tried to talk him out of this game he forced us to sit in a circle, literally.

I sit with Cassian and Amren at either side of me. Azriel and Mor beside them, and Feyre and Rhysand in front of me.

Cassian spun the bottle and the game starts.

"Truth Or Dare?"

"Truth."

"What is the dumbest excuse have you used before to get out plans?"

"I said,"My cat is sick." To get out of a date, knowing very well My date knew I didn't have a cat." Mor laughs.

"Truth."

"What's the longest time you've ever gone without showering?"

"31 hours." Rhys thins his lips and nods. "You're supposed to say the truth." Cass comments. "I am" He narrows his eyes. "You're boring." Rhys rolls his eyes and my lips tug up as we move on.

"Dare."

"Drink a glass of water with 5 spoons of salt."

We all watch in awe when Amren it all with a straight face. No giving any reaction, she puts the glass down on the table and looks at her nails. "This was too easy." Mor quietly picks the glass and drinks the last drop of salt water from it, wincing immediately. "Do you not have taste buds?" Cass's widen eyes moves between her and the glass.

"Truth."

"What is one thing you would stand in line an hour for?"

"New paints." Feyre eyes lit up in excitement.

"Dare."

"Sit in someone's lap." Cassian smirks thinking that'll bother me.

"Mor!" I plop myself on her lap, both of us laughing hysterically as her arms wrap around my stomach. Cassian frowns. He rolls his eyes, huffing and spins the bottle.

"Truth."

"Which was your most embarrassing date?"

"There was this male, Loren or something, we were on a date at this club he told me to meet in. I go there and we have a good time but halfway through the date, this women comes up to him and slaps him with all her might! I'm standing there like," Mor impersonates with brows up, lips rolled in her mouth and continues,"turns out she was his wife." We gasp dramatically and she nods.

"Dare."

"Take off your cloths and dance around in you underwear."

"Oh darling, if you wanted to see me naked you should've just asked." Rhys smirks at cassian and completes his dare.

"Dare."

"Cassian, since you didn't answer your question last time," there it is, that glint in Mor's eyes that indicates choas. "I dare you to kiss Y/N." She grins.

Utter silence. My eyes widen and snap to Mor in shock. Everyone looks at Cassian to see his reaction.

"Oh come on! That's ridiculous!" He throws up his hands. "Uh-uh. Remember the rules, Cassie." Mor teases. I look at cassian silently cursing her for putting us in this situation. I see a bit pink in cassian's cheeks and my eyebrows go up.

Is Cassian blushing?

"F-fine." The slight hitch is his voice does not go unnoticed. He turns to me and my breath grows.

"Can I-," He clears his throat,"Can I kiss you?" He asks in low voice. He wants to make sure I'm alright. The realisation makes blood rush to my cheeks. I silently nod, not trusting my voice.

He leans closer, my eyes constantly switch between his eyes and lips. He stops just before my lips, giving me time to back off. I don't.

His lips touch mine.

I stop breathing.

Our lips rest against each other and my eyes close. His lips surprising soft.

His sighs against me. My mind clears out everything except how well how good it feels to kiss him.

I don't want this to end.

But it ends anyway.

He pulls back and looks into my eyes. I search his, waiting for the regret to come but all I see is awe in them. It makes my stomach flutter. I struggle to breath.

Someone claps. We snap out of whatever trance we seem to be in. I suddenly remember we aren't alone and my face heats. I clear my throat and look down because I can't look at anyone right now.

I just kissed Cassian. In front of everyone.

-☆-

My rest of the night is spent in a haze. I can't stop thinking about the kiss we had. I don't care that it was dare and that too of only 5 seconds.

When the game finally ends and we start to descend to rooms, as we wish each other good night, Mor gives me a sly smirk and a wink. My blush doesn't leave my face the whole night.

Cassian walks up to me and I take a deep breath preparing myself to get heartbroken. "Are you OK?" His question catches me off guard.

"Uh-yes. Why?" I stammer.

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't uncomfortable about before." His gaze dips to my mouth for a second before coming back to my eyes.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not." My faces flushes under his heated gaze.

He opens his mouth but closes immediately, swallowing back whatever he wanted to say.

"Let me walk you to your room?" He finally asks.

"Of course." I smile.

We start to my room, walking beside each other. Not saying anything and just enjoying our company. His hand brushes mine. I prey silently for him to take it in his. He doesn't.

I feel slightly disappointed when we reach my room. I open my door and turn to him.

"This is it, I guess. Good night." I look up at him.

His hand rises and tuck my hair behind my ear. I struggle to breath for the second time tonight. His fingers graze my face, from my cheek to jaw and moving back to his side. "Good night."

I go into my room and close to door, fearing if I stay out too long, I might do something crazy like kiss him again. I lean back against my door and try to even out my breath. My eyes close and head falls, thinking about the events happened tonight. I wait for the sound footsteps moving away, signaling his leave. I don't hear them.

I stand up straight and try to listen more properly but can't hear anything for some reason. I quietly open the door again to find him still standing there. Breathing heavy with heated eyes.

We take out each other in and our eyes meet, both filled with desire.

"Fuck it." He slams his lips to mine.

The force sends me almost falling back but he catches me, wrapping an arm around my waist and the other behind my face. He walks us both into the room. My hand grips his hair and the other on the door, slaming in shut.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

[abbysdruidess]

˜”°•.˜”°• headcanons about you and abby's wedding - modern au •°”˜.•°”˜

wc: 1.1k

warnings: wedding w modern au(obvs), crying, tooth rotting fluff, allusions to sex, no use of y/n

a/n: lmk what you guys think of this one and whether you'd like more of reader and Abby in this universe! don't hesitate to send any requests<33

this is sort of on theme with a previous fic where abby proposes to you, this one can be read as a standalone though:))

❦ after the proposal, you guys hurrying too much to get the wedding off the road and on the rails- you're still extremely proud and giddy to call each other your fianceé, and you've sent about 100 pictures of your wedding ring to everyone.

❦ it isn't until one night where you're having dinner over at jerry's that he brings up the wedding preparations and you're like oh shit, you two kinda need to haul ass and start sending invites.

❦ you decided on a small affair, only your immediate families and close friends over. I imagine that in the insistence of your future brother in law Lev you sent out RSVP invitations that were ocean themed with cute little sharkies on the front that say in a vast ocean of people we found each other(💀). A lot of people found them pretty funny though, and Lev was pretty excited about them.

❦ on par with the beach theme of your engagement, you decided to have the wedding on a beautiful beach resort in the beginning of June-not too hot, not too cold;)-with the ceremony and the reception on the shore.

❦ of course, you couldn't leave out the bachelorette party! You and Abby travel to Vegas with your respective friend groups for a weekend of clubbing and partying in general. And lets be fr, someone from either of two groups ends up getting lost and you have to recover him Hangover style. Thank God you didn't arrange for it the day before the wedding.

❦ the days before the upcoming event are mostly a blur, both of you making last minute arrangements about the food, the flowers, the music. Your gown with the final adjustments is delivered and you have to hide it in a fridge box in the basement so Abby won't take a peek.

❦ "But baaabe, I just wanna see what it looks like! You know this stuff about bad luck isn't actually legit." "I know, but it will be more exciting to see the final look at the wedding. I promise you."

❦ finally the big day is here! And let me just say, as a very emotionally constipated person, you'd probably be a little teary eyed all day long. When you put on your gown and look at yourself in the mirror and realise that holy shit, I'm about to marry the love of my life, my Abigail, she wants to spend the rest of her life with me. And this just hits you all at once and a few tears run down your chin.

❦ if you have any wedding traditions from your culture that you'd like to honour, Abby would be 100% down for it. It makes her feel closer to you, and part of the new family she's going to be in. She also really likes listening to its origins and what it's supposed to represent. In my country, we do this thing where the wedding squad writes all their names down in the couples' shoes and by the end of the night whoever's name is the most smudged is the one who's going to get married first. Let's be real, if they did this, it'd probably Manny whose name had almost disappeared and he'd freak the fuck out.

❦ once you're ready to walk down the aisle, and you glance at Abby you let out a small ᵍᵃˢᵖ at the sight, with Abby dressed to the nines and a glowing expression on her beautiful face. Her mouth also formed a little O at the sight of you, ready to become her wife, looking so so happy and a slightly teary eyed.

❦ during the actual ceremony, you two keep stealing glances at each other, smiling kinda goofily like :]. You two are goobers fr.

❦ for the vows, I think the game establishes that Abby is a big bookworm, so she chooses something perhaps from Emily Bronte or Jane Austen. Of course this isn't the entirety of what she wrote, she just finds it more accurate to express her love for you through someone's else perfectly adept words.

❦ once the reception kicks in, you're carefully wiping tears from your eyes so you don't smudge your makeup, and take some photos with the wedding party on the beach. You're accepting everyone's congratulations for your newlywed status, and settling down to prepare for your first dance.

❦ you had decided on dancing to Por Una Gabeza, and had actually rehearsed the slow tango a couple times so your movements are synchronised. By the end of the dance, you're in each other's arms, cheek to cheek simply enjoying the moment.

❦ by the time you've finished you meal, the party is in full swing, and you join in for a few dances until you decide on a cake break and allow Yara to be Abby's dancing partner. By the way, your wedding cake? Exquisite, chocolate ice cream with strawberry.

❦ I also imagine you guys doing the whole tossing the bouquet thing and -surprise surprise!-it ends up on Manny's lap on accident. He almost leaves.

❦ by the night, you're both clinging to each other, ready to resume your lives as Mrs and Mrs, and also ready to break into the bridal bed. Seriously, you can feel Abby's fingers feeling up your thigh and she's been whispering the things she wants to do to you all night. By 2 in the morning you're home, very much exhausted by the preparations and the emotional high, but also very ready to let Abby peak what's under your bridal gown.

❦ for wedding gifts to each other? She hands you two tickets for some exotic island you guys always talked about going, and make it your honeymoon. You get her an antique vinyl record player, because she had always been going about getting something to listen music to while cooking. Needless to say you both love each other's gifts:D

❦ a week or so after the ceremony you receive the photographs, and Abby makes it her duty to hand them on every corner of the house. Seriously, at some point, you could see a photo of you two in your field of vision pretty much about everywhere.

❦ her favourite one remains in her desk, one where you two are about to leave, sweaty and drunk, the camera capturing your musky faces as you sit on her lap clinging for dear life. It's so sweet and endearing, and it reminds her why she married you in the first place.

[bg-brainrot]

Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 18: At Withers' Party

Bonus Hug - Chapter 18: At Withers' Party

Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)

Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon

Rating: Teen

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, post-game, epilogue, cw: alcohol, jealousy

WC: 2.1k words, 18/18 chapters

Summary: An epilogue hug! Astarion sees Rogue!Tav giving out hugs and wants one of his own.

Author's Note: This was not part of the original fic, added on after the epilogue was released, however I chose to put my own spin on the epilogue hug.

Finally, Whether you read this fic AO3, on Tumblr, or a combo of both, thanks so much for joining the hugfest! I love this vampire man, and may he have many, many more hugs <3

Ao3 | [Hug17] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist

It’s been six months since your victory at Baldur’s Gate.

Six months of traveling through the Underdark with Astarion, establishing a base for the vampire spawn, and figuring out your next steps together. It was perilous and difficult work, but you wouldn’t change a single thing. 

You have missed your former companions dearly though, so when you received the invitation from Withers for a celebration, the smile that broke across your face could blind a celestial. I wouldn’t miss this for anything – not even a fresh new apocalypse, you wrote back.

So that’s how you and Astarion have found yourselves above ground once again, the familiar wilderness of the Sword Coast a welcome sight, the distinguished company an even more welcome one.

Everyone seems to be doing quite well, despite how you all left each other. Lae’zel is only able to visit through a projection, and the reprieve is rather temporary for a few of your companions– namely Wyll and Karlach– However, it’s a rare opportunity and you’re incredibly grateful to have it.

The elation must be obvious on your face, as Astarion takes one look at you and laughs. His sing-song little giggle never fails to bring a smile to your face, and right now your face is liable to crack open. “Go on, dear,” he says, sensing the eager tension in your body. “Mingle! If you need me, I shall be near the wine.”

“You can mingle too, you know,” you say, though you’ve already begun to walk away.

“Invite me again after a few bottles,” he responds. You know he loves them all in his own way, but he also finds them to be a bit too much at times. Ever the stray cat, he’ll find his way to them when he’s ready, at least you hope. So you nod to him in agreement and wander off to chat with your dearest friends.

You’re so excited to see them all again that you’re practically jogging to meet them. 

Shadowheart is the first. When you get a good look at her, you see a peace in her face that you haven’t seen in any of the months you’ve known her. Something about it brings you relief. You knew they would each find their happiness without you, but seeing it firsthand is something else. Perhaps it’s because she’s looking so much more herself than ever, but before long you find yourself asking, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is caring and welcoming and everything you knew Shadowheart has always been.

Next you make your way to Karlach. She’s alive and well, which is ten times better than the last time you saw her, and you just might cry from the sight. She tells you about Avernus and about the possibility to fix her heart and you just might cry from that as well. Again, you can’t resist, especially knowing she’s been fighting for her life for six months. “Could I have a hug?” The hug is warm and strong, just like the woman in your arms.

After that, you make your way to Wyll. He’s doing rather well in Avernus with Karlach, and, when he mentions that he’s planning to ensure Karlach finds a solution to her heart, a few tears well in your eyes. Wyll is among the best of mortal and immortal men, and you’re glad he went with Karlach when you couldn’t. The grateful feeling is more than you can put into words, so you ask, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is strong and bracing and an absolute testament to Wyll’s enduring friendship.

You find your way to Lae’zel. After learning of her diligent efforts to save her people from Vlaakith, you can’t help but be awestruck by how much she’s changed. You’re inspired by her ability to learn to fight with words and stunned by how much she truly misses you. Even though she’s not there, you can’t help yourself, “Could I have a hug?” She simply clicks her tongue at you and calls you an idiot, somehow melting your heart all the same.

Eventually, you find Gale, tucked away with the tressym Tara. He’s a teacher and no longer at risk of exploding – you can’t help laughing at that, remembering the various times he almost blew you all up without the help of an all-powerful orb. Something about the way he speaks of his new role and invites you to visit, either to teach or just to spend time, makes you realize that this is what a happy wizard looks like. You love it and ask, “Could I have a hug?” The hug is all-encompassing and lengthy, much like one of Gale’s lessons in magic.

Finally, you find Halsin, dancing the night away. When you learn more about his endeavors, you find that he’s reestablishing the settlement at Reithwin, reconnecting the land to its people. He mentions that Thaniel and Oliver are no longer lonely and that the children of the settlement bring him a fulfillment he never thought possible. After regaling him of an exaggerated tale of your and Astarion’s adventures, you assure him that the two of you will visit soon to tell more. “Could I have a hug?” The hug is surprisingly gentle and comforting, and you walk away feeling quite content.

You determine that you’ll need to ask the rest, even Withers, for hugs if they’ll all be this enjoyable. But before you do that, you decide to take a moment to yourself, to process everything.

That’s how you find your way to a quiet corner, head spinning with warm, fuzzy feelings and maybe a smidge too much wine. Just being here, surrounded by some of the best people you’ve ever had the privilege to encounter, fills you with a companionship you weren’t aware you’d been missing. Astarion fills you with so much love and happiness, but this– this is different.

As if summoned with your thoughts, the vampire walks toward you, wine glass in hand. "Are you done mingling?" Sensing your mind is elsewhere, he leans closer, inspecting your glassy, faraway gaze. His hand lands on the small of your back, jolting your attention back to the present and you turn to look at him. His eyes sparkle at you with radiant joy and a hint of something else. Could that be annoyance?

You decide to focus on the joy. "Yes, I think I've managed to get good conversations out of everyone. Did you know Gale wants me to go teach at Waterdeep?" Your voice sounds incredulous, after all, you warned him: once a rogue, always a rogue. Unless he wants his students to learn how to stab more efficiently, he would do best to seek someone else.

Astarion clearly agrees, making an exaggerated, aghast expression. "You? A teacher?" He shudders in fake-fear. "My love, I pity the poor students who would be subjected to your methods."

“Hey,” you say, shooting him a glare. “I thought you were supposed to be the supportive one!”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I can only support so much, my dear.” Then he takes a long look at you, noticing how unfocused your eyes are, the flush to your face. “And from the looks of it, I may need to support your entire body before the night is over.”

You only grin at him and say, “What did I do to deserve such a caring man?”

“Yes, yes,” he says, rubbing gentle circles along your back. “Likely whatever you did to deserve the affections of every adventurer this side of the Chionthar.” His tone is joking, but the dark look on his face says otherwise.

Pushing aside your own amusement, you pull his hand from your back and lean into him. “Okay, what's the matter, love?”

“Oh nothing. I just thought my jealous days were behind me.” He sounds sullen, and you note a sad tilt to his eyebrows.

Jealous days? You groan, recalling his concern over the fiery barbarian. “Love, really truly, if I were leaving you for Karlach, I would have gone to Avernus months ago.”

He waves his wine glass at you dismissively. “I know that, and I don’t mean Karlach, contrary to all evidence thus far.” Suddenly avoiding your gaze, he takes a sip of wine and changes the subject. “No matter, let’s go ask Withers where he found this vintage.” 

“No, no, no,” you say, tugging him back to you before he can walk off. After another six months together, getting used to each other’s idiosyncrasies outside of mortal peril (mostly out of mortal peril), you knew the escape was only a ruse. He wants to talk, but he seems too embarrassed to begin. “You’re allowed to be jealous, Astarion. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me why.”

Astarion stops in his tracks, looking back at you with a pair of vulnerable red eyes. “Do you promise not to laugh?”

You take a beat to debate this, but ultimately honesty wins over and you shake your head. “I wish I could, but I do promise to try my best?”

A sigh escapes him, and you’re graced with a soft, reluctant smile. “Typical. You were truthful though, so I shall be too. I was rather jealous of…” He wipes a hand over his face dramatically. “I was jealous that you’ve gone and hugged everyone else. Gods, I sound like a child.”

It’s a good thing you only promised to try your best because an involuntary huff leaves your lips, which you'd firmly pressed together in preparation. "That is…" you gasp out.

"Idiotic? Pathetic?" Astarion supplies.

"Rather adorable actually," you say, finally allowing a snort out. “How do you always manage to be both adorable and sexy?”

You swear you can see the tips of his ears color pink, but that may just be the firelight or your own tipsy vision. He only says, “I’m quite talented.”

“Would a hug help you feel better?”

Astarion looks at you, eyes darting between yours. You can see a bit of hesitation in them, and you’re wondering why when he says, “Only if it’s not a pity hug.”

“Never,” you say, solemnly. “You know I only give hugs I mean.”

He clicks his tongue, annoyed again. He places his wine glass down on the ground with a flourish, as if preparing himself. “Yes, exactly. Which is why I’ve gone and become jealous. This is all your fault and I expect you to remedy it.”

You nod, accepting this burden with ease. “In that case… Could I hug you?” Astarion waves his hand at you as if to say, get on with it already, and you dive right in. 

The hug is loving, it’s understanding and supportive. It warms you, it cools you, and it makes you want to tackle this man to the ground in an aggressive affection– a feeling you only barely temper after a few glasses of wine. After experiencing so many hugs tonight, you find that the hug is so very perfectly him.

No, not just him. It’s the type of hug that the both of you make together. And it’s the hug you want to experience again and again for the rest of your life.

When you finally pull away from him, Astarion is smiling once more, jealousy evidently placated. “Well now, I have you every night, don’t I? Go on then, continue to bless them with your presence. I’ll be here when you’re ready. I’ll always be here, my love.”

You shake your head at him. “A lovely sentiment, of course, but you’re done hiding. Come on.”

“What?” he asks, brows furrowing as he tilts away from you.

“I said, you’re done hiding. No more shadows, they all keep asking about you and I’d rather you answer them yourself,” you say, all but dragging him back to the party now. “They miss you too, you know.”

“Darling, please. What if they ask me for a hug?” Astarion looks truly appalled at the thought.

You laugh, imagining him reacting like a cat forced into a bathtub. “You can say no, of course. But I promise not to get too jealous if you do.”

“What will it take for you to forget I ever said that?” he says, laughing and allowing himself to be dragged.

You quickly swipe his wine glass back up off the ground as you pull him along, and take a long drink before returning it to him. You only say, “At least two more bottles, though I suppose that depends on how wild Withers likes his parties.”

Hand-in-hand, you both walk off to enjoy the rest of the celebration. The night is young, the wine is flowing, and there are still many more hugs to be shared.

[urtheloml]

wonder how we got this far (i don't really need to wonder at all)

pairing: bakugou x reader w/c: 9k synopsis: you're excited about the prom, bakugou is not— disagreement ensues a/n: i'm back... first post of 2023 n the year is almost over... embarrassing 🧍🏼‍♂️this is the third n final installation to my little white lie mini-series!! read part 1 here n part 2 here!! this can be read as a standalone too :3 uhm... i started this fic in like... april (??) n completely forgot abt it until last week so i have no idea what the original plot was going 2 be but i think it turned out okay (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) also i know this fic is SOOOO overdramatic but i have watched every single movie that had a major prom scene (hsm3, the duff, mean girls, etc) n growing up, i looked forward it to SO bad that i literally used it as motivation to do well in exams. but then COVID happened so no prom experience for me so this is me basically projecting onto my writing!! okay mwah hope u like it xx o((>ω< ))o!!

Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. The opening scene of the Bee Movie plays like a mantra in your head as you're searching for something in your closet. Your ears pick up the occasional grunt or cheer from your boyfriend, who's currently laying in your bed with his DS in hand, and your eyes roll affectionately.

You can't find what you're looking for so you abandon the mess you've made in your drawer and turn to Bakugou instead. "'Katsu, have you seen my can of body glitter? It's in a little purple spray bottle."

Bakugo barely glances your way, "No, why would I have seen that. Why d'ya need it anyway?"

Your body slumps against his comfortably as you cosy up next to him on your bed and even if it's been a while, your heart still skips when he immediately tangles his legs with yours. "I need it to make myself glittery for the prom, duh. You can use it too if you want before we leave."

"Huh?"

"The prom. The dance thing we're going to, in like three days?"

Bakugou's eyebrows scrunch up confusedly as he puts his DS down and immediately a bad premonition settles in your gut. "What are you talking about? I never said I was going to that shit."

Ah. There it is. You're glad he put his game down 'cause if he wasn't looking at you while you're about to have this conversation then his console might have landed outside your window right about now. You're looking at him incredulously when you say, "What do you mean you're not going? You're my boyfriend so you have to go. It's like an unspoken rule... you can't not go to prom. Who's gonna take me then? You want me to go alone, like some loser?"

The barrage of questions makes him smile amusedly at you, but for once the sight of it induces anything but affection in you. There's no way he's taking you seriously right now. Bakugou scoffs and turns back to his game, "Huff all you want, princess, but I'm not going to the prom."

Before he can start a new game, your body lands on top of him unceremoniously so you have his undivided attention. "'Tsuki! This is our one and only prom as high schoolers. Doesn't that mean anything to you? I want to go and dance with my girls and I want to dance with you. Please?"

His jaw ticks, and he looks away from you because he knows if he stares too long then he'll cave. He refuses to go and you're not about to sway him. He has his own reasons for not wanting to go and he'll stand by them if it's the last thing he'll do.

"I told you I ain't fuckin' going, alright? You can go with your friends and you can have fun and dance with them but I'm not going. Stop pushing me on this."

His voice comes out hard and unwavering, leaving no room for argument. Also, you can't believe he just called you pushy. Bakugou, who forced a confession out of you just because he wanted you to say it first. He underestimates your persistence though, because next thing he knows, you're leaning down like you're about to kiss him and his eyes are already half-lidded but instead you bite down harshly on his nose.

Bakugou yelps but that doesn't deter you. "Can you at least tell me why you don't want to go? Because you don't want to go to a lot of things with me but you always end up going anyway. Like the nail salon, or Bath and Body Works. Why's it different this time?"

His eyes narrow and he shifts beneath you, probably trying to escape your shit fuck ton of questions but you're caging him in. He stays quiet for a whole three minutes when he finally says, "I just don't want to go, fuck, can't you just let it go and compromise for fucking once?"

What. "What?"

“I’m just saying,” Bakugou sneers, propping his elbow up below his head, “you shouldn’t be forcing me to go. You said it yourself, ya know, it feels like I’m always doing what you want.”

You falter. "That's bullshit, Katsuki. You're being really mean right now."

It seems that you used the wrong choice of words because his face turns gloomy, and you can tell he’s biting the inside of cheek as hard as he can. He places his forearm over his eyes so he can physically block out your reaction when he practically spits, “Why don’t you go date golden boy Kirishima if you think I’m so mean, huh?”

Woah. That was a low fucking blow and he knows it. He regrets bringing up his best friend’s name the moment the words leave his mouth because the way you inhale sharply and get off of him fearing for his life. The hairs on his arms rise when you start speaking to him scoldingly, and he won't even deny that he deserves it.

“I cannot believe you’re still using that against me, ‘Suki, that was more than a year ago! And don’t give me shit about not knowing how to compromise because I always eat the food you make. Even when you make it spicy on purpose even though you know I can’t handle it. And you know what? I don’t particularly like going to the gym with you on the weekends, but I still always go! And maybe sometimes I wish we could have more than just study dates but I stay and read with you anyway. And I always, always, forgive you when you do stupid shit like forgetting our anniversary or- or when you make me cry."

Almost as if your body takes cue from your words, you can feel a familiar stinging sensation creep up behind your eyelids. It starts a chain reaction because somehow Bakugou barrels on. Even though his face blanches when he sees the water on your lash line, he can’t seem to stop his mouth from moving.

"Well, fuck, sorry I'm such a shitshow to handle, princess. You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. But if you’re so tired of me already, then why don't you just break up with me, huh?"

No longer was there a trace of affection or playfulness in the way he calls you ‘princess’. The word drips with condescension and malice and your heart cracks a bit at the way he speaks about himself. Bakugou's sitting on the bed now, looking up at you as you stand before him.

Yet, your gaze holds nothing but warmth and frustrated tears when you look at him. Because, much to your dismay, you also always know when there’s something up with Bakugou . He leans away for a moment when your hands come up to touch his head, but decides to let himself fall into your touch in the end.

Bakugou buries his face against your stomach, gripping onto the back of your shirt with crumpled fists. Gently, your hand cards through his messy hair, “Baby, I never said that. I never said you were hard to deal with. You’re a very easy person to deal with, and an even easier person to love. And I have never, ever, thought about leaving you. Okay? I’m sorry for making you think that."

He nods into you, the movement tickles your abdomen and he does it again and again until you start giggling and pushing his head away. Bakugou rests his chin against your navel, looking up at you with slightly glassy eyes. He knows he doesn’t deserve the kindness you’re laying onto him, doesn't deserve you in general, but he still reaches up to swipe a thumb under your eye.

“No, I was out of line. I shouldn't have said all that. I’m sorry, I was bein’ rude as shit.”

The truth is, Bakugou isn't really that easy to deal with. You can handle him just fine because you've had years of practice. To an untrained eye, maybe it'll look bad for him when he scoffs a fuck off everytime you ask to hold his hand. But you know he never means it because he always takes your hand anyway, intertwining his fingers with yours. And then he'll squeeze your hand three times; i love you, i love you, i love you.

So no, he isn't easy to deal with. His body language and words don't always correspond to what he's trying to convey but it's still plainly obvious that he quite stupidly adores you anyway. He'll yell at you for forgetting your wallet, he'll call you an idiot the whole day and then he'll pay for your lunch and walk you home the same day. If you get cold for forgetting a cardigan, he'll tease and taunt you for a whole five minutes maximum before giving you his own that he just somehow keeps forgetting to take out of his bag, as he says. He'll make a face like he just ate a lemon when he tries and fails to not make fun of you if you don’t score so well on a test, and then he’ll tutor you for hours on end until you can get it right.

It gets quite predictable.

He pulls you down then, letting your bodyweight sink onto his lap and presses a kiss against your lips in apology and you hate that it works. Hate that he can erase every mistake with a press of his lips to yours, because he never kisses you without meaning it. And you know he means to say sorry with the way his tongue slips into your mouth.

Unfortunately, the argument does not end.

He pulls away, breathing heavier than before. The bubble of calmness and comfort around you bursts explosively however when he mutters, “‘M still not going to the prom, though.”

It's not like you didn't see this coming. You knew that he didn't really care about prom, no matter how badly you wanted him to. You just thought that maybe he'd take you anyway. The thought of going without him makes your chest clench because you could have the time of your life with your girls but it won't feel the same without him next to you.

Maybe he's right. Maybe you do make him do things he doesn't really want to. But then again, you do the same for him. You're left confused and defeated when it's time for him to leave and he's still adamant on not going. On one hand, you don't want to force him to go. But on another, you really do wish he'd change his mind.

You're silent as you show him out, and he notices but he stays quiet too and in his head, he beats himself for being a coward. He hates himself for not being able to talk to you properly. He knows very well that if he just told you what's up with him then you'd understand, and you could still probably convince to go to the dance. But he doesn't speak up.

Right before he leaves, he leans down to kiss you goodnight but you turn away at the last moment so his lips meet your cheek instead. Slowly, you press a palm against his heart, pushing him away and pretending you can’t hear how it stutters at your denial.

"Hey, before you go, I'm sorry if I'm being pushy again but you-,” your voice trails off, and you sigh defeatedly, “you can't keep making me cry and just expect to kiss it better all the time, okay? And I know you don't mean to do it, but it still hurts, Bakugou. I'm tired of getting hurt all the time and I'm not forcing you to go, but I hope you know that it really fucking sucks that my own boyfriend won't go to the dance with me, and it sucks even more that he won't even tell me why."

Bakugou? What happened to Katsu or ‘Suki, he mourns internally. He keeps a blank face but it feels like the blood within his veins just got replaced with pure fucking ice as he lets your words sink in. He refuses to let his facade break but it feels like someone is grabbing him by the throat and he can’t seem to breathe right.

"If you keep making me feel like this, one day I'm not just gonna let you kiss it all better. 'Cause sooner or later, you're gonna run out of chances."

Bakugou stays unanswering, and you look at him pleadingly for him to just talk to you but he doesn't. It's not until you go to close your door that he finally speaks, voice soft but accusing, "You just said you've never thought of leaving me, and now just 'cause I'm not taking you to some stupid dance, you're taking it all back?"

If Bakugou had superpowers, pissing you off would definitely be one of them. You resist the urge to stomp your foot childishly, because you know that won't help to get your point across. Your teeth bite down on nothing as harshly as possible because you don't want to start arguing again, it won't solve anything. He knows that too, and even though your hands stay right by your side, he feels like he was just punched in the jaw when you meet his eyes and he finds that somehow, he managed to make you cry twice in one night.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe this isn't just some stupid dance to me? I get it, okay, that it's not your scene or whatever, and it doesn't matter to you but it really matters to me," you tell him as placatingly as possible, and his eyes are as clouded as his judgement, "I've waited a long time for this, and I never thought I'd even be lucky enough to have someone who means so much to me to go with. And if you can't even see how important it is to me that I want you with me at this stupid dance, then you're the worst. The worst."

With that, you finally shut the door in his face. His muffled protests behind the slab of wood go ignored in favour of stomping back to your room. Bakugou's insufferable! He's stupid and stubborn and temperamental. He's a hothead that jumps headfirst into anything he does with everything he's got.

He's the worst. (he's the furthest thing from it)

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

Neither you nor Bakugou give in to the temptation of calling one another. When you see him in class, you don't look at him and you go straight home. The both of you being too stubborn to admit defeat by reaching out first. It hurts to admit though, that for once you wish he'd just call you. A mere three days of radio silence on both your ends doesn't do wonders for your relationship, it chips away at both of you until the hurt simmmers to a seemingly numb feeling in your hearts.

As you think of ways to spite him, your mind comes up with the idea of going with someone else. But you don't entertain that thought for longer than a second, because that would be cheating and you'd never stoop that low. He probably wouldn't even know if you did anyway.

The night before the prom, you sit on your bed forlornly, twirling the little charm bracelet that slings around your wrist. It's a cute thing that Bakugou gifted you a few months ago. It was a simple purple band with two star charms on its ends and a little saturn charm in the middle. He has a matching one in blue.

"It's beautiful, 'suki. Why saturn?" You had asked.

"Uh... I don't- I read somewhere that it kinda symbolises growth and commitments. And you know, that fits us." Katsuki answered, withholding the fact that he spent three hours reading multiple astrology sites about it even though he quite frankly thinks it's bullshit but didn't want to get the meaning wrong anyway.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I wanna fucking commit to you and I'm gonna be everything you’ll ever need.”

The bracelet jingles lightly as you fidget with it. Your phone lays on your bed with no signs of him calling and a deep crushing sigh escapes you as you prepare yourself for another night of tossing and turning. The memory of what the bracelet meant lulls you to sleep and you're left wondering if he's still wearing it too, which makes you wonder even more if he's missing you as much as you're missing him or if he's missing you at all. It's hardly noticeable but you think your cheeks feel damp as your eyes fall close.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

In his own room, Bakugou lets the dumbbell he's curling fall to the floor. He barely hears the resounding thud it makes or his mom yelling at him for dropping the weight like that. He flops onto his bed, arms spread and neck spotted with sweat. His mind swims with thoughts of you and he wishes it wasn't so hard for him to just fucking open up to you. His insides twist just thinking about the way he left things with you, it makes him feel stupid and he hates it.

It's not like he doesn't want to take you to the prom. If anything, he'd love to do that. He wants to show you off so bad. Have you all pretty, draped over his arm and looking gorgeous in whatever dress you wanted to wear. God does he want to, he wants everyone to see you with him and he'd bask in his smugness that no one else gets to have you like this but him. He'd relish in the absolute envy on anyone else's face as that saw you with him. Because everyone knows, including himself, that you're too good for him. And now he's gone and fucked it all up.

For all the confidence he exudes, Bakugou Katsuki is actually not someone who's void of insecurities. If anything, his confidence is just a front to his crackling interior. But not always, because sometimes he is quite the hot shit. Anyway.

Contrary to your belief, he doesn't want to go to the prom for your sake. He's heard the things people have said about you- or rather, he's heard what has been said about you in regards to your relationship with him. Just thinking about it makes him feel nauseous all over again. He wasn't supposed to hear it, he thinks.

He'd been walking past the girl's toilet whilst looking for you. It wasn't on him that girls talk so fuckin' loudly. Like c'mon, in his defence, if you're going to talk shit about someone, at least do it quietly so that the person aforementioned won't hear his own name like a siren beckoning him to eavesdrop. So really, it's not his fault for pressing his back against the wall to hear the rest. He can't put a name to the two voices (why would he be able to) but from what they're saying, they know him apparently.

..."... I bet he's forcing her. To date him, I mean."

"I don't know... they seem pretty lovey-dovey and all gross to me. If you ask me, she should leave now and find someone better."

"That's called conditioning. Or like, stockholm syndrome. I mean, let's be serious, who wants to willingly date Bakugou of all people. He's like if the word aggression was personified. He's mental, I swear."

They laugh, gaudy.

"I bet he's gonna show up to the dance with the poor girl, 'cause he's way too fucking clingy. Have you noticed that he's practically by her side almost 24/7. Hope they don't turn up together, like give that girl a break."

So. He wasn't supposed to hear that. He wasn't supposed to fucking hear that, and for a good fucking reason. At that moment, it felt like his heart was stuck in his throat while simultaneously, his stomach dropped to his ass. He doesn't cry. He's not that bothered by it. But it makes his head spin that people actually think of him like that.

By then, he wasn't thinking straight, because if he was, then he'd know not to make assumptions about how everyone felt about him based on two girls' conversation. Alas, he's not thinking straight, so, fuck it.

He doesn't know if you remember but he barely said anything when he walked you home.

It hurt him, but everything they said about him wasn't anything he hadn't heard before. It was the way they talked about you that got to him. How you were unhappy or being forced, they said. It's the way he's tried his hardest to pour his heart and soul into you and him and it's still seemingly not enough for people around him to think that you're both undeniably gone for each other.

It makes him upset, because he thinks he's been doing a pretty good job at showing you just how much you mean to him, but apparently fuckin' not. He's obviously not doing something right. Which makes him feel frustrated because he can't figure it out. He tells you he loves you plenty. Okay, maybe not plenty but he does say it. He says it and he knows you know that he’s trying to show it in his own words. He always keeps a jacket for you, he’s never let you fail a test since you got together and he always always makes you extra food that he makes for himself. Maybe he’s done something wrong along the way.

It's not like he unintentionally made the food spicy for you. Sometimes it just slips his mind that your portion can't be the same level of spicy as his is. And he knows how sad you get when you fail an exam, which is why he forgoes normal dates to sit and study with you. Of course he'd much rather do something like hiking or fucking, he doesn't know, laser tag with you, but he'd always put your education first. He knows how much it means to you after all.

An ugly feeling nags at him. It makes him want to pull away from you, show some distance so people would stop talking for a bit. But another part of him wants to run to your house right now and tell you I'm sorry. please don't leave. I can do better. Neither of those feelings actually make him do anything, though, because he's stubborn and refuses to cave.

Ugh. He thinks, before promptly passing out on his bed.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

The evening of the prom arrives. You're standing in front of your mirror, all dressed up and pretty. Your dress accentuates your curves amazingly and you've adorned your cheeks with small star-shaped rhinestones and sprayed a generous amount of body glitter all over yourself. The shimmer makes itself known in every crevice of your room but it doesn't bother you right now.

An imaginary Bakugou makes himself comfortable on your bed. He's eyeing you up and down and groaning appreciatively at the sight he's been blessed with. Fuckin' gorgeous, he says, just like you know he would if he were actually here. You're wearing his colours after all.

Your hands smooth down your dress incessantly for the nth time that night, as if getting rid of the imperceptible wrinkles on your dress would get rid of the thoughts in your head as well. It doesn't, but it makes you feel calmer. Maybe some would call it dramatic, or stupid, but you don't even really feel like going without him.

You don't want to miss out on your prom, and you still want to dance with your friends and eat cheap shitty food though. So maybe your hair droops a little, akin to your mood, but you leave your house shining and smiling anyway.

And when you get there, things start looking up. Whoever's in charge of the music has been doing an amazing job of not playing Closer by the Chainsmokers on repeat yet so that's win in your book. In fact, they're not playing any songs that would give the average retail worker war flashbacks, which means they're doing a phenomenal job.

The hall is mostly full by the time you and your friends find a table near the back. There's a line at the punch table and you can already tell that it's probably spiked with something judging by the students practically dry-humping one another on the dancefloor, much to one of the school's chaperone's dismay.

The first hour passes by without a hitch. The buffet table is lined with cheap pizzas, stale fries and other questionable foods like jello cups that you're not sure is even made with real jelly. But your friends eat it anyway and you do too because food poisoning's all part of the party package.

At the back of the hall, there's a photo booth with props and signs for everyone to take. Your friends and yourself take ungodly amounts of pictures at the booth, laughing loudly without a care in the fucking world. You don't let yourself think about how Bakugou would scoff at the choice of props, you refuse to let yourself think about how he'd pose after choosing something equally stupid and you absolutely do not let yourself think about how much brighter you'd be smiling if he were here with you. You don't.

The sound system blares songs from bands you're somewhat familiar with, the bass of the songs echo and reverberate throughout the dancehall. It amplifies the adrenaline running through your veins as you jump around with the rest of the people in the hall. It feels silly and unnatural but you're giggling and swaying and it isn't so bad when you've got your girls right next to you doing the same thing.

It's easy to forget about all the aches when you let yourself get lost in the crowd. You're pushed into the middle of the dancefloor that's definitely filled with people who don't go to your school.

A song that you vaguely recognise by The Weeknd plays over the speakers and it's so fast paced that your heart thumps to the bass of the song. The tremors echo through the hall, shaking the floor and it becomes so easy to forget why you were upset in the first place.

The song ends and cheers from half-drunk high schoolers fills the temporary silence that follows. The DJ announces that he's about to slow things down a little for a kick of romance. He stretches out the word romance so it sounds more like roooowmaynceee and when the music fades into something mellower, it becomes even easier to remember.

It becomes increasingly harder to ignore the pitiful glances your friends send your way as they're whisked away by their own dates. Humiliation and longing pools in your belly as you watch your friends get their waists held and their bodies swayed and it fucking sucks. Even though you wave dismissively at them, it does look quite pathetic when you slowly move to stand against the wall by yourself.

Your eyes sweep over the couples dancing, and you pray that no one asks you to dance while you're being a wallflower. You don't think you'd want to dance with anyone but him anyway. Distantly, your mind wanders to Bakugou, and you're left thinking about what he must be doing at this hour. Maybe he's studying, or watching a movie, or cooking something inedible like always. Maybe he's already asleep. Maybe he's missing you and he's on his way over here right now.

Nobody is crueler to you than yourself, you think, as you let your mind wander dangerously into that false pretence of hope that he might change his mind about showing up.

There's a phantom feeling that glides over your skin as you watch your friends dance, and you wrap your hands around your elbows to soothe it. The sweat from your earlier dancing cools off as the air in the hall gets cooler and you're not sure if it's the crisp, cold air, or the fact that you're painfully aware of Katsuki's absence that makes your throat sting each time you inhale.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

In the end, Katsuki's mother is the one who quite literally knocks some sense into him. Mitsuki Bakugou is not a force to be reckoned with, ever, and as tough and cool Katsuki makes himself seem, he'll always be a little bit intimidated by his mom. It's why he tries to seem as nonchalant as possible as he sits on his couch while staring unblinkingly at the TV.

Mitsuki pops her head into the living room. Fuck, he didn't think she'd be home so soon.

"Katsuki? What the hell are you still doing here?"

"You going crazy, hag? It's a Friday night, am I not allowed to take a fuckin' break or what?" He swallows.

"Language, asshat. And I just stopped by Inko's, brat, I know what day it is today," she sighs annoyedly before plopping down next to him, "She tried to show me Every. Single. Photo of Izuku in his tux. I had to tell her I left the stove on to get out of there. So quit the bullshit. Why are you still here?"

Katsuki has a pillow in his lap and he squeezes it until his knuckles turn pale so his voice won't waver.

"She didn't want me to take her," he lies, hoping his mom will take the bait.

Mitsuki shoves her son's head to the side good-naturedly, "I thought I told you to quit the bullshit, brat. That girl adores the hell out of you for some fucking reason, so don't try to lie to me."

It's that one goddamn line that has him snapping at her. It's her words and the stupid girls in the stupid fucking toilet and it's an amalgamation of everything that has him wanting to tear his fucking hair out that makes him lose it.

"Yeah, okay, fuck you too mom. You're right, I don't fucking know why someone like her wants to be with someone as fucked up and angry and- and mean and aggressive as I am too, alright? Everyone at school already fucking wonders why she even wants me so I didn't take her to this stupid fucking prom 'cus maybe they'll get off my back about fucking forcing her to be with me. I'm not in the goddamn mood to be hearing about this shit so fuck off. I wish I knew what the fuck she sees in me that's so good but I don't so just stop this fucked up interrogation, God."

He's not even looking at the TV anymore. He spits out his outburst while staring straight at his hands fisted in the poor pillow. It'll never uncrease now. His jaw is clenched so tightly he's scared his teeth might just shatter in his mouth. He doesn't want to look at his mom right now, too afraid to see her pitiful gaze directed at him. Doesn't want to hear her say you're right Katsuki, I don't know what she sees in you either.

Katsuki braces himself for an impact, knowing he's probably about to get smacked for talking to her like that. He doesn't expect the hand that gently lands atop his head, and he doesn't expect the hand that's curling behind his ears to turn his head towards her. Mitsuki looks at her son, making sure he really looks at her this time.

"Katsuki." She says, as gentle as the first time she held him in her arms. It doesn't matter how many years have passed, he looks just as small to her right now, and just like the day he was born, she will wrap him up and make sure he knows how loved he is.

"Katsuki, listen. I'm sorry for saying that," Mitsuki exhales, "It was a joke, but it was insensitive and I'm sorry. Every other time I said something like that about you wasn't true either. You're a good son and a good student and a good person. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, or says about you because the people who truly care about you know that you're a good fucking person, Katsuki."

Katsuki can barely hold eye contact with her. As embarrassing as it is, his vision blurs over and he will never acknowledge the way his voice breaks. "Mom," he shudders, "I'm always trying so fucking hard. I want to be good, please."

A noise that sounds like a choked back sob escapes him unwillingly. Mitsuki pulls his face into her shoulder and smiles when he barely resists. He fits just like he did before he thought hugging her wasn't cool anymore.

"You are good. You are so good, Katsuki." she whispers, "You always help to cook, and you keep the house clean and your grades up. You don't speak politely but you are honest and you are just like me. You use your hands, actions, to communicate rather than words. But you know, Katsuki, sometimes the people we love need to hear it from us too, okay? We'll both work on that."

A miniscule nod. "I'll start right now, Katsuki. You may be a brat sometimes, but you are my son. My sun. You are good, and kind and for everything you do not love about yourself, I love it tenfold."

He absolutely does not break at that. Katsuki bites back a whine, and exhales shakily again, soaking in her words like a sponge because he knows these moments for them come few and far in between. He doesn't mind. He thinks it's special that way, cherishing it whenever it does happen even more.

Mitsuki cards her hands through his hair, "You're a winner, Katsuki, that's why you have your name. Don't let whatever happened get to you like this. If you don't go to that stupid prom, you'll be making the biggest mistake of your life. Because I love you very much, and it might even be possible that that girl of yours loves you just as much, or maybe even a smidge more. Get your ass changed, and talk to her, alright? I know it's scary, letting someone in, but you care about her and you need to do this."

Katsuki pulls away from her, wiping his face roughly with his arms. He sniffles harshly, trying to erase all traces of the vulnerability he just showed. He bites his lip hard enough to almost draw blood. He wants to say he loves her back but the words fail him. Not yet, he thinks.

"I don't know what colour her dress is." He says instead.

"Wear your red suit. Don't ask questions, go get ready. You're already late, I'll call a cab for you."

Katsuki nods, getting up to walk to his room. He's halfway up the stairs when he pauses for a second. "Thanks mom. Love you."

Mitsuki waves her hand dismissively in his direction.

Katsuki stands in front of his mirror, inspecting everything he sees as if that'll change the way he feels about himself. His mom talking to him helped a lot, but he's still finding it hard to breathe and it's not just because his collar is choking him a bit. He fiddles with his bracelet. He tries to ground himself as he thinks about whether he should put on a different suit.

He really wishes he listened to what you were saying when you were talking about your dress. What if he shows up and his suit clashes with your dress? That would just make your night worse.

It's ridiculous. He knows he's just procrastinating. Because thinking about suit colours is easier than thinking about the crippling insecurity that still sits heavily on his shoulders, shackling him with the sheer weight of it all. He'd rather think about the colour of your dress than the fact that he feels like he can't give you what you deserve in a boyfriend.

His reflection frowns back at him.

The words you said play in his head like a broken record. You are the worst, you told him. He thinks of all the things he never really says to you because for some reason his emotionally constipated self just can't bring himself to say them. (Because he says I love you, but he means he hopes you never trip on your shoelaces if they're untied, that your hair never tangles in the wind, that if your drink spills not a drop of it would touch you, that your hands are always warm, that you'd never forget to bring your headphones before you leave the house and that you're always safe whenever he's not with you. Because he says I love you, but he means he hopes that if the sky were to drizzle, the raindrops themselves would feel privileged just to be able to fall upon your skin. Because he says I love you but he means he hopes you know he wants to say it right to your face, and into your mouth and kiss the words and every version of it's meaning into the space where your shoulder meets your neck every morning when he wakes up and every night before he lets himself succumb to slumber. He says I love you, but he means more than what those words convey. He says I love you, but he means stay warm, stay safe. He says I love you but he means my heart belongs more to you than me. He says I love you but he means he'll never want anything else for as long as he lives if it meant you'd always stay with him. He says I love you but he means come home to me and keep coming home to me, please.)

Oh.

If he could kick himself for being so stupid, he would. But he can't so he'll let you do it for him instead. I am not a coward, he tells himself as his unsteady hands try to make his hair look less of a mess. It doesn't work so he leaves it be and dashes out the door with an undone tie around his neck and he hastily side-hugs his mom- dodging her attempts to groom him- before throwing himself into the cab.

He doesn't make it a habit to show up late, but hopefully this time you'll forgive him. This time showing up late is better than not at all.

He's never made it a habit to show up late but maybe this time showing up late is better than not showing up at all. He drums his fingers nervously on his thigh throughout the entire ride. He hopes to God you're having fun. He hopes you know he's on the way. He hopes, and hopes and prays that he hasn't lost his chance.

When he arrives, he doesn't even spare a glance for his own friends, too preoccupied with finding you. The hall isn't very big but the space is large enough that he has to walk around a few times just to spot you.

The minute he sees you leaning against the wall, he wishes desperately he could go back in time. He'd do fucking anything to erase that faraway look in your eyes. He can see the way you're yearning to be one of the couples on the dancefloor and he wants to unwrap your hands around yourself and replace it with his own.

Katsuki breathes in deep and makes his way towards you cus damn it, if you wanted a dance, he'll give you a fucking dance alright.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

The last slow song finally slowly tunes out, transitioning into a more upbeat one. The couples finally disentangle themselves from one another and you're just about to step back onto the dancefloor when a very familiar pair of arms snake around your waist.

You didn't even see him come in. It doesn't matter how he apparated here, because the only thing that matters right now is the fact that he showed up and the way his arms fit snugly around your hips. A breathless sound of disbelief escapes your lips as he pulls you into him when you turn around to face him.

If he's surprised by the lack of anger or disappointment on your face, he doesn't show it. All he knows is the feeling of your arms coming up to rest up on his shoulders. With the way you're beaming up at him, anyone would think that the only thing he did was show up almost two hours late. He knows better though, he knows he fucked up when all you wanted was for him to bring you to this stupid dance. And on God, would he try his hardest to make it up to you.

Katsuki leans into you, burying his nose into your hair that's all pinned up and pretty. He's getting glitter all over his face and suit and he doesn't care at all.

"I'm sorry," he exhales, letting the apology spill out of him, "'M so fuckin' sorry, princess."

It's so quiet, you almost think he never said it at all. In the background, you can just barely register the lyrics of Paramore's Still Into You that's currently playing. A litany of 'thank yous' is mentally conveyed to the DJ.

"And what are you sorry for?"

Katsuki clenches his jaw, his eyes darting away from yours like he's struggling not to look away. He groans before telling you, "There’s been rumours going on, people talking shit like they know us. Saying fuck all, running their fuckin’ mouths about how you could do better than me. And it’s stupid that I believed them for even a millisecond, I know. Then I realised that if I let you show up here alone then i’d just be proving those fuckers right. So, you win, princess. I took you to this stupid prom. I showed up, ‘m here right now."

Even though it's been said before, the lack of confidence Katsuki has in himself is absolutely baffling. It's like he can admit he has flaws and weaknesses and he'll know exactly what the problem is but he won't fucking talk to you for some reason you can't figure out.

Nvermind, you figured it out.

He's scared. Bakugou Katsuki is fearless. He's not afraid of anything, because he knows everything he's afraid of can be defeated one way or another. His fear of failure is conquered with his efforts in order to secure success. His fear of inferiority to anyone that's a threat towards him can be overtaken by brandishing his own achievements like a sword, or like armour. But when you come along, suddenly it becomes: Bakugou Katsuki was fearless.

The only thing he's scared of is losing you. That’s something that he alone can’t control, because you could very well decide to leave him if you ever felt like it. He realises that if he didn't show up tonight, the chances of that happening would be much much higher, and then if he lost you, he'd be a loser. Bakugou Katsuki is not a loser.

Your chest tightens at the thought that he actually believed that you’d leave him for someone better, as if someone like that even existed. One of your hands reaches up to curl around his neck, forcing him to look at you. You shake your head firmly when he tries leaning away.

You’re glad your voice remains steady when you say, "You should've talked to me. ‘Suki, I can’t believe you almost blew me off because of some shit some people we don’t even know thought about us. They don’t know anything about us, alright? They don’t fucking know how good I have it with you and you shouldn't keep all that to yourself next time, okay?”

His grip tightens, “You should’ve heard them though. Girls are fuckin’ ruthless. Talking about how easily you could just fuck off and get with someone better. Saying I... I'm forcing you to be with me. Fuck, it made me feel like shit ‘cause I knew there was some truth in what they said. I know I can stand to be nicer to you.”

Your hands find their way to his undone tie and you tug, “Katsuki, I don’t care about what they said. You hear me?”

Once he nods, you go on, "I couldn't do any better than you, because you're already the best. You said it yourself. If you think I deserve better, then be better, 'cause I don't want anyone but you. So stop trying to push me away. Whoever started all this can fucking eat our asses 'cause clearly they don't need their mouths if all they're gonna do is talk shit."

"Holy fuck, you really need to stop spending so much time with me." Katsuki snorts.

With a laugh, he twirls you around two times all while complaining that you're starting to sound exactly like him. But you’re not so sure he really minds so much judging by the way he grins wickedly at you. When his arms go back to their rightful place, you rest your forehead against his chest, "Also, let me? 'Suki, I did show up here alone. Which means that technically, you didn't really take me here, you know? 'Cause I had to come here all by myself."

Katsuki huffs and puffs, and leans back far enough to flick your forehead softly. He sways you slowly to the music, despite how fast the music is, "What matters is that I'm here. I’m fuckin' sorry for making you show up here all alone. Look, I’m even dancing with ya, ain’t that enough?”

Am I enough?

Katsuki says all that like he's exasperated with you but really he's posing it as a question. He's asking, and looking for a chance to redeem himself. Like always, you rest even more of your weight against him, knowing you can let yourself go boneless against him and he'll hold you all the same. He's all strong and soft and sturdy and you can hear his heartbeat thundering beneath his clothes and you make sure he can hear you when you say, "You've always been more than enough."

You can feel the way any lingering tension escapes him when you tell him that. He tells you softly, promises you that he'll start opening up more to you, and he kisses you on the cheek to really seal it in. The song echoes throughout the room, thrumming in your veins and making you feel weightless.

Some things just, some things just make sense and one of those is you and I.

His eyes don't waver as he really takes you in, savouring the image of how good you look. He sears the image of you into his brain and he hopes you know how serious he means when he rasps, "Fuck, ya look gorgeous by the way. Absolutely fucking stunnin' and I really fuckin' wish no one else but me could look at ya." His hands run down your sides slowly and squeeze at your hips, eliciting goosebumps all over your skin.

Heat quickly floods your cheeks and pools in your tummy, and his hands tighten his hold on you. You grin at him, "Well, ignoring your tie, I think you look very handsome as well. I'm surprised our colours didn't clash."

Katsuki barks a laugh at that. If only you knew.

It's quite the scene to see you and him swaying gently to such a hyped up tune. Everyone mostly crowds up around the front of the hall. But you and Katsuki hang back from the big mass of sweaty bodies, choosing to stand nearer to the opposite end of the room. If your friends look at you weird, you don't take notice. It's as if you're in your own little world; just you and him.

The second chorus sounds and Katsuki dips you as low as he can get before you yell at him. When you come back up, he's looking at you all starry eyed, staring directly at your lips. He can't stop himself, he cuts you off while you're singing along to kiss you right then. He swallows the little 'mmphrh!' that comes out of your throat greedily, sliding one of his hands up your back all the way to the cuff of your neck to press you even closer into him.

"Fuckin' missed you and your pretty fucking mouth, baby." he sighs breathlessly into you.

It's barely a chaste kiss, looking quite messy for a high school prom. Thankfully no staff member comes in between you and him, so he pulls away slowly before leaning back in. He kisses you once, twice and then some more and even a fifth and sixth time, like he's making up for all the days he didn't.

After he's satisfied with all the kisses he's peppered on your face, he leans away, smiling sillily. "She's right, you know?"

Your eyebrows furrow but your lips quirk up anyway, "What are you talking about?"

Katsuki spins you slowly, "The singer. She's right," and leads you back into him before singing monotonously, "After all this time, I'm still into you."

"You are such a loser, that was so cringe. Oh my god, what the fuck," you laugh, but your heart squeezes in affection.

Katsuki doesn't know if it's the haphazardly hung disco ball and the flashing lights that makes your eyes shine and sparkle or if it's just you, but he can't tear his eyes away from you. You're looking at him like he split the oceans for you, and he thanks every star in the sky that you're letting him hold you this close again.

If he knew how unreal you’d look when you’re dancing in his arms, he never would’ve ditched this thing. What a shame, he thinks, that he missed out on two whole hours that could have been spent with you looking like this. Maybe it’s the air in the hall but he feels practically giddy at the sight of you enjoying yourself, and it makes his heart fucking leap because it’s him that’s making you smile like that.

The sides of his mouth hurt from how much they've been stretched tonight, but he can't keep the smile off his face when you say, "You're right though. She is right."

He hums along to the tune, because denies it as he may, he absolutely loves this song just as much as you do.

Your eyes drink up the sight of Katsuki dressed up so… in character. His hair is as messy as ever, his tie hangs loose and undone around his neck and you’re sure his suit jacket has seen better days but he looks fucking ethereal to you. He’s all lethal grins and loud laughter and his cologne smells as spicy and warm as it always does and you realise again just how in love you are with him.

Katsuki’s eyes are gleaming, and maybe it’s just a trick in the light but you’re reminded of just how lucky you are to have him like this. Because maybe he is brash and harsh when he talks to you, but he’s never treated you like you’re anything but the most important thing in his life. To him, you’re his favourite person in the whole world, and he doesn’t need to say it out loud because he knows you know it too.

So maybe Katsuki isn't easy to read, or deal with. That doesn't mean he's not easy to love. Because loving him was like breathing— instinctual and  inevitable. You loved him the way the moon loved the ocean, and the way the sun loved the stars. Loving him was the easiest thing you've ever done in your life, and you knew that wasn’t ever going to change.

And baby even on our worst nights, I'm into you. Let 'em wonder how we got this far, 'cause I don't really need to wonder at all. Yeah, after all this time, I'm still into you

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

(extra)

Later, when the two of you have sufficiently made out against the wall enough for the chaperones to flick water at Katsuki so he'll finally pull away, you'll find his hand and pull him along to the rest of your friends.

Kirishima will see you two and laugh, telling Katsuki he's glad he pulled his head out of his ass. Katsuki will hiss, "Kay why ess..." and drag you to the photo booth. You won't tell him, but you're secretly glad that you were right. He does scoff at the assortment of props but he picks up a stupid styrofoam emoji of a bomb.

He pushes you into the booth and sets the timer for the picture. Right as it's about to go off, he looks at you very seriously as he says, "You put the boom-boom into my heart," before absolutely smashing the emoji against your cheek.

"KATSU I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU-"

The photos come out blurry and you're wide-mouthed and laughing in all of them. He's looking at you like you're the only thing that exists. There’s barely any inches between you and him like you’re the sun and he’s every planet that orbits your celestial body.

Katsuki walks you home afterwards, laughing and stealing your body heat as he delivers you to your doorstep. When you kiss him goodnight, he thinks he must have known you in every life before this one for him to have the capacity to love you as much as he does. He keeps his copy of the photo in his wallet, signing the back with 'still into you xx'.

Not that he needs the reminder.

[dreadfutures]

Fan Work Friday

Rules: If you’re tagged, MAKE A NEW POST to showcase one fanartist and/or fanfic for any fandom you recommend (with links), and tag someone to give their recs next! Don’t forget to reblog the rec you were tagged in, and include these rules! :)

Bonus: Choose works by people you aren’t super tight with, or choose older works that maybe haven’t gotten some love in a while. :)

Fanartist: @kiivg

The first time I saw one of kiivg's pieces, I had the thought: I've never seen anything like this. Then I did a double-take, because even though I can't pinpoint it, this style strikes me as quintessentially storybook. It should be on the cover of a comic, or it should be a bonus chapter illustration in your favorite novel--both because of the striking style and the amount of STORY King packs into each single standalone piece.

The first of King's works I saw was one that I consider really KING now: oriented so that I had to tilt my head to get the full picture. I find it only pulls me in deeper, looking really closely at every detail before I get the full picture. Here's one of my favorites (give it a reblog!):

Definitely give King a follow. When they do post art, they have plenty of Dragon Age, Cyberpunk, and BG3 art to wow you with!

Fanfic: its free son - SlinkySpiders

The note I had in my bookmarks was: "there are elotes in gotham and this author is my hero"

SURPRISE this is a fanfic for the Robert Pattinson The Batman film, which I think is a nearly perfect hopepunk movie, and the first Bruce Wayne I've ever seen on film who NEEDS A ROBIN. So here, have a batdad and his kid.

I love an awkward man trying his best to be a parent to a kid who has the same problems he did. Let's parent our inner childs through real children, that's my weakness. Also, Dick gets to be childhood friends with Barbara Gordon, so that's great.

It's "unfinished" but I think it does just fine for what it is, and I hope people enjoy!

Rating: G Pairing: Bruce Wayne & Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne & Alfred Pennyworth, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne Chapters: 2 (unfinished) Length: 11,678 Summary: Three years after the events of the Riddler, Bruce finds himself taking care of an eleven-year old, completely out of his depth.

That's my post for this week! I'm excited to see what everyone tags me in. It's been great to find new artists and fics through this game. :)

Tagging:

(again, for any fandoms! let's spread the positivity <3)

@thedreadblog | @noire-pandora | @wolfsskull

@demarogue | @thevikingwoman | @anneapocalypse | @fiadhaisteach | @victoriousscarf

@kiastirling

@warpedlegacy | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @bluewren | @breninarthur

@ar-lath-ma-cully | @inquisimer | @crackinglamb | @theluckywizard | @nirikeehan

@oxygenforthewicked | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | @melisusthewee | @blarrghe | @delicatefade

@leggywillow | @about2dance | @plisuu

[songoftrillium]

Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my actions before me. 

I am delighted to announce that Dead Mountain's release, initially slated for Halloween 2023, has been delayed!!! 

Wait, what?

This post is enormous, but please take the time to read it. Likes don’t increase visibility to others! Please reblog this to spread the word! 

When I started this project, my stance on Werewolf: the Apocalypse underwent a series of evolutions between then and now. In short, Dead Mountain, a chronicle meant to simultaneously provide a game module and queer inclusivity at gaming tables, has grown beyond its original design and size and into something much bigger and bolder than what I initially set out to do. It has become a more significant task than one person can accomplish alone. Of course, I could delay Dead Mountain's release a few months to get it completed, and I will still be releasing it standalone eventually.  I could also put it out, but what would come out would fall short of presenting Werewolf in a way I feel does the game justice.

In many ways, nothing changes; it just happens later. In its current form, however, Werewolf: the Apocalypse doesn’t provide a game that fully supports the scale and inclusivity this chronicle demands. The project rapidly ballooned the chronicle into something more resembling a corebook; while fun to imagine, it is more than I initially set out to accomplish. The volume of literature needing redrafts and the need for this to be a single chronicle alone are at odds with each other, and more than one person can write independently.

I plan to reapproach this in a way that has the team excited, and I think this will excite you, too. See the rest below the cut.

As work on Dead Mountain progressed and drew closer to completion, the things I needed to include to make it happen in a way that did its subject matter justice grew beyond its original scope. The more aspects of inclusivity, culture, and story that turned up missing from the newest edition out of the occasional paragraph, the more I came to realize that if I wanted Werewolf: the Apocalypse to represent what good I see in it, I needed to also make the game itself presented in a fundamentally different way than it has before. 

I have a challenge to World of Darkness writers: 

New players should only have to read for no longer than an hour to start coming up with character concepts. 

Every Werewolf corebook put to print is falling short of that goal. It would be unjust to force players to wade through the old literature to explore all the game has to offer, and I think y’all deserve better. The tribes they read about should focus less on everything wrong with them out of the starting gates and provide players and storytellers with something worth fighting for and motivates them to action.

Over the past few weeks, we have realized that the things we need to include to do justice to the subject matter of Dead Mountain have grown beyond the project's original scope. We want to ensure the game is inclusive, culturally representative, and accessible to new players. Given the available core literature released with the latest edition lacking coherent structuring, our writing has had to balloon beyond a typical RPG supplement size to provide a functional game representative of, and relevant to, queer culture. Therefore, we have decided to delay the game's release by one year to Halloween 2024. This extra time will allow us to create a game that meets our high standards and provides an enriching experience for all players, and make Werewolf: the Apocalypse a more accessible game, particularly regarding accessibility to new players and storytellers. 

My goal is simple: Nobody new to the World of Darkness and Werewolf with an 8th-grade reading comprehension level should do more than an hour’s reading (10,000 words) to comprehend Werewolf: the Apocalypse well enough to start thinking up character concepts. New players shouldn’t have to wade into problematic legacy literature to get the specifics of Garou society or to seek cultural representation. Storytellers should have guidelines on creating chronicles with their players and interlinking them with stories. 

A series of players guides and storyteller handbooks intended to streamline the flow of information to the reader, sorted by Garou ranks, both in terms of gaming power levels and depth of information relevant to Garou of that rank. New players want to know how to make new characters. Storytellers wish to know the kinds of NPCs appropriate to characters of that power and how to run games. This is not a corebook but a series of reference guides intended to keep the depth of the world we all love in the legacy game in an easily navigated format while only revealing the most pertinent information for a given Garou’s rank and a ready-to-go adventure to pair with that game ranking. With each successive release, more information about the world of the Garou, Garou society, their enemies, and the complexity of available storytelling tools will also evolve to grow the game in tandem with players and storytellers.

Book 1: Cliath — Contains enough information for new players and storytellers to get started, focusing on character generation, Rites of Passage, and culture.

Book 2: Fostern — Expanded Garou powers for the ‘citizenry and society (and not-so-nice things that happen in the background that they keep hidden from the cubs and cliath) of the Garou. 

Books 3: Adren — Explodes into an anthology of Tribebooks with expanded powers and tribal customs and detailed septs, camps, and factions vital for any Adren fighting for Gaia.

Book 4: Athro — exploration of spirit and history. The secrets that bind society and a more lucid view of what elders in the Garou Nation face, with expanded Garou stats covering both rank 4 and 5.

Book 5: Elder — The Storytellers guide, focusing on world-building and running one's own chronicles in the World of Darkness.This puts all prior ST info in one place with a master index and any extra systems errata needed.

Our small team consists of seasoned storytellers, writers, and werewolf academics working on making Werewolf more accessible to new players. We’ve been researching, playing, or running inclusive Werewolf tables for over 60 years combined, and are self-taught experts in everything Werewolf. Everyone on this project deeply loves the game and sees its inherent value and well-meaning beneath its 90s liberal veneer. Many of us have spent decades perfecting our craft and knowledge of this game, and we want the rest of you to see the Werewolf that we see in the pages.

We are using By Night Studios' edition of Mind’s Eye Theater: Werewolf as a baseline reference for this project. Much work has already been done to bring inclusivity to the game and encourage character investment in the world, and translating that to the tabletop will be a more inclusive baseline to utilize than any other corebook. We will continue the metaplot of Werewolf: the Apocalypse, with a handful of changes to tribes and factions of Garou. Due to the MET systems translations needing to be done, we still have our work cut out for us and plenty of writing to do. This game will be shifting the formatting to prioritize ease of identifying information pertinent to players versus storytellers while prioritizing keeping culture, mechanics, or cross-edition compatibility as best we can with updated sensibilities.

Stay tuned for another post this afternoon to learn more about our first upcoming book in the series!

[skylinx2o]

Admittedly, I've been feeling terrible lately. I didn't even finish my weekly drawing and broke my now months long streak. I thought I would be able to do it, but my emotions weighted me down too much. I might go back to drawing one art every two weeks.

Anyway, I feel like I should do more fun things. I mean, drawing is fun, and I love creating stories for my OCs, but I do have a lot of other interests. And tho I'm sticking to talking about LEGO today, I want to talk more and get out of my shell. And maybe give you more insight into me as a person.

So today I'm going to talk about my favourite LEGO themes and why I love the series, plus how I personally got i to all of them. It's not a normal review whatsoever, just an excuse to ramble about my interests freely. Just remember this is my experience and my feelings.

(And it's not at all like I'm making this post because I need all of this to prepare for a speaking class and the only way to motivate myself is by making a post about it o _o Come on, I'm killing two birds with one stone here!)

Okay, so, my all-time favourite themes are (in chronological order to when I found them):

1. Bionicle

Honourable mention: Hero Factory

2. Ninjago

3. Legends of Chima

4. Monkie Kid

5. Dreamzzz

1. So. Bionicle. I have a weird history with Bionicle. My dad's friends used to get movies for us, and one day it just happened that my dad's friends gave us a pen drive with Bionicle: Legend Reborn on it. I think I would be around... Seven or eight when I watched it I've seen fans say that it was a pretty weak film, but I didn't know Bionicle back then, and I really enjoyed it! That movie was a soft reboot of the series, and as someone who started their Bionicle obsession with that movie, in my opinion it worked really well as a standalone supposed to capture new audiences. I really loved the sense of mystery that was probably lost on new fans. It wasn't exactly explained what or who Mata Nui was, besides him being a warrior who lost his people. And the ending... I really thought there would be a sequel to it, and was really intrigued by whom the great beings were, and what happened to the world, why Mata Nui knew them, what the giant ahh robots were supposed to do.

Of course, when a few years later in middle school I looked for the sequel, I didn't find it. And to be honest, the ending was disappointing to me. However, there was a whole other storyline in Bionicle to catch up on! And so one faithful summer was spent reading all the comics I could find, reading wiki pages one after another, playing Mata Nui online game obsessively, refusing to use a walkthrough. Believe me when I say I was obsessed!

And then out of nowhere in 2015 g2 came out, and I was stoked since I missed out on practically the whole g1 as it was being made. (I mean, it's understandable, I was born the same year the first Bionicle movie came out.) I mean, can you blame me for being excited? A dead franchise that I just started becoming a devoted fan of is suddenly revived from the grave. I felt like the luckiest person on earth that day. Honestly, g2 was a lot simpler than g1, but I really like it, even if most people said it sucked. Sure, it wasn't exactly like g1, and even I cringed a few times when watching the g2 show, but for what it was, it was cool in my eyes, and loved finding all the g1 references. And there were quite a few of them! The story of g2 was simpler, but for little kids I think it would've been fine. But alas, LEGO did a crap job promoting it, and it died early, with an ending that was so bad even I can't defend it. It just didn't make sense, and it was rushed as hell. But I still wished it would've continued.

I love both generations for different things, and I'm sad I didn't get any g2 sets when they were out (Lewa was my favourite one). But years later I managed to get a promotional anniversary set of Tahu and Takua, and you wouldn't believe my happiness when I was building it. It's strange being a relatively new fan compared to others I see online, but I still remember seeing Bionicle commercials, and even have a very vague memory of seeing a Phantoka commercial on our ancient TV. I mean come on, I was so into it, I even learned the Matoran alphabet! My mom had to listen to my countless rambling, and if I ask her about Bionicle today, she still remembers some answers, that's how much into it I was. Hell, this blog started as a Bionicle blog before I moved fully to Monkie Kid content.

Okay, this Bionicle ramble is getting a tad long, so I'll wrap this up. Would I recommend Bionicle to anyone? Well... Not really, unless you like long lore researching adventures. The story is so convoluted, with many sides stories, and it went on for so many years, that despite my obsession I still probably missed like, 40% of the lore. G1 at least, wouldn't vibe with casual audience probably. G2 might be easier on the brain, despite it having some deeper lore too. Plus, there's the cultural appropriation issue, that I'm not qualified to talk about, but others already made pages long blogs and articles about. Plus the weird gender situation. But, it's still a good story in my eyes, despite its many faults. But that's just me, and if you didn't catch on yet, I'm already deep in this hole and there's no getting out of here now.

Honourable mention: This brings us to Hero Factory. I watched the first few episodes at around the same time as the first Bionicle movie. Came from the same source as before. I think it deserves a mention, because I still loved it, and did some lore digging, but I wasn't as obsessed with it as the other positions on the list. I didn't like the later stuff as much, tho some concepts were really cool too. But the story of the first episodes was really well done, and worked great as a movie. The fights were tense, and when watching it for the first time, I couldn't really know if the characters would be okay. Honestly, it got me really excited and invested. A factory of heroes is a unique concept, and I always found it intriguing how they made the robot society work. But, I don't think it needed more time than it needed, unlike Bionicle, where I didn't like the ending of either generation. I think it wrapped things up quite well with the first episodes, and the later ones just feel like cool side stories, and it works in my opinion.

This one I would definitely recommend, because I feel like it's underrated, and it's not long. Like I said, the version I got was just a one movie like compilation. I checked and there's just 11 episodes. It would probably take 1–2 hours to watch it, not counting the later movies and all.

2. Next one is Ninjago! I started watching it almost from the start. I must have been around ten or so... The episodes aired on TV, so I had easy access to it! I almost never missed an episode, and watched even the reruns. And believe me, I was hypnotised when watching it. Tho, starting from rebooted I watched the episodes online, first in my native language, then in English since I started getting too impatient to wait. This was my first obsession. For the longest time, when people asked me what I wanted to do, I said I wanted to be a ninja. One of my oldest OCs is Mika, and she grew up with me. Whenever a new season was to come, I would design a new suit for her. I have a whole dedicated blog to her, I wonder if you all can find it lol. Anyway, for a kid's show, the first seasons were really well written, and the show could be dark when it wanted, but it didn't lack jokes, and most were very funny. And honestly, Ninjago had a really big impact on my life. It taught me not to give up, and it made me want to make the world a better place. Grade school was a horrible time for me, and Ninjago was like my escape. Tho, I might have daydreamed about it too much at one point...

I started distancing myself from Ninjago around hands of time. I didn't watch the show as regularly, catching up on seasons long after they aired. I think that's also where the writing quality started dropping… I just didn't like it as much any more. But it should've been expected with a series that went on for so long. I'm not one of the people who think old Ninjago was better than anything. It wasn't perfect at all. But I didn't like the short format of newer seasons. But then secrets of forbidden spinjitzu dropped, and i as a person started getting better too, so I went back to Ninjago, and while it wasn't still the best and people had a lot of issues I loved those few next seasons. I mean, they somehow hit right into my interests with those seasons. First the adventure movies like atmosphere with the Egyptian like tomb, then they get sucked into a video game, then the very DnD like feeling Shintaro. It was right up my alley. My love for Ninjago was back in full force by then. So you can imagine how sad I was when the word that Ninjago was ending started going around. The series has been with me for half my life. My friends even knew how much I liked it, my best IRL friend even bought me a Ninjago set for Christmas one time. But you know, I thought it was probably Ninjago's time. Nothing can last forever after all, and it had a very good run. Why not end it when the story was still quite alright? And then… Crystallized happened. I didn't watch Crystallized. I heard the spoilers, and I wasn't… thrilled. Especially with Harumi. And people hated that season. It left a bitter taste in my mouth. It didn't feel like a send-off Ninjago deserved.

So you can imagine how damn happy I was about Dragon Rising! And surprise, it's the best Ninjago has been in a while! I absolutely loved the first season. The new characters are wonderful, and that change was certainly what Ninjago needed. And the fact that it's merged with one of other of my beloved LEGO series only makes it better. And that's probably my cue to move to it hehe

So, would I recommend Ninjago? Yeah. Its story is easy to follow, you just need to watch the show. If you're ready to watch sixteen+ seasons that it! Even the worse seasons have some value to them I'd argue. But I may be biased with how close to my heart that series is.

3. Yeah boy, Legends of Chima! I started watching Chima around the same time I started watching Ninjago, and I was equally hooked. And yes, my mom remembers this one as well, I watched it every time it was on too. Actually, I think the first fanfiction I've ever written was about Chima. With a pencil on paper. I think that, while the other series captivated me because of magic or the setting or the action, in Chima it was the characters and their dynamics mostly, despite there being plenty of magic powers and action too, plus a unique setting. The main characters all have distinct personalities, and it's fun to see how their personalities clash or work together. I think it's cool because the conflict between lions and crocodiles takes the main stage in the first season. Later seasons are great too, and they shake things up to make things interesting quite well. The lore isn't as broad as in other series, but it's pretty cool and interesting either way. There were some unique concepts there. I can't explain my love for this theme as well as with other series, because I don't think there was anything big that made me like it. It's just a cool show. I think what there was has been satisfying, tho young me was really sad and angry it ended anyway. But it's great for what it was. But I can't say I'm not happy that Chima is now merged with Ninjago, and it works so well together, and I absolutely love Lord Ras.

I would absolutely recommend it. It's a fun show, and only three seasons long. It can be both fun and serious, and I definitely had a blast watching it.

4. Now one of my newer obsessions! Monkie Kid! I watched the pilot in Chinese when it came out, then I promptly forgot about the series and binge-watched it all when season 3 came out. I was reading about Journey to the West long before the series was announced, since I have a liking for old stories and legends and myths and stuff. And Asian cultures fascinate me. I blame Ninjago with its Japanese influence and all the martial arts movies that were on the TV all the time. Plus Mulan and Kung Fu Panda. Anyway, I can't say much about how accurate it is or anything since I'm not Chinese, but I think the show is great. I noticed a lot of references to Journey To The West. No shocker here, it's inspired by it. But being in this fandom made me learn a lot of new things about China, tho I still have a bunch of things to learn. I'm no expert yet. Tho, I try my best to be respectful.

Umm... Like I said, not much to say about how accurate the story is. But I really liked Journey to the West, so naturally I like Monkie Kid too. Plus, MK i really relatable to me. I feel like my personality is really similar to his, tho I'm more introverted. For some reason, I relate to this portrayal of Macaque and Wukong as well.

I dare to say that from all the series so far, I find this one to be the most well written. I just find the writing to be the most impactful. Plus, the artstyle is very different from other LEGO shows. Action scenes are really fun. The artstyle definitely works in its favour. And yeah, I would recommend this show 100%.

5. And finally, the newest addition to the LEGO series, Dreamzzz! The show is really new and just starting, but I love the concept and the writing! Plus again, I really relate to Mateo. The characters feel like real people you would meet, and how they interact feels realistic. And I found myself liking even the characters that annoyed me, because their personalities were the realistic type of annoying, one that you might find out in the wild. And the concept of a dream world just really speaks to me. And it gives the creators a lot of creative freedom. All wacky things can happen in a dream after all. One thing I didn't expect in the show was the secret agency, and I think it's a clever addition to the story.

I would recommend this series. I hope it'll have a bright future, and that the writing will stay this good.

Well, time to wrap all of this up. Whoever suffered through this whole ramble deserves a juice and a cookie 🍪���� For a few finishing thoughts... I noticed a lot of the series I like blend magic powers and technology together. I just thought it's interesting. And I wanted to mention that the songs for Bionicle, Ninjago and Chima absolutely slap. I used to listen to them on repeat all the time lol Even my mom really enjoyed those songs

Yeah, I don't know what this post was for, I just felt like writing all that :v

[bearpillowmonster]

I'll be honest, sometimes it doesn't feel like anything's happening but it's still on par. It starts things that we don't necessarily need to see but it's excellent with pacing, we see the topic for all its worth but not over or under. So it being a show really works out in its favor because it doesn't feel like a long drawn out movie, it can play a little bit.

I didn't watch Gotham so I have no point of reference to see Oswald without Bruce but it well warrants its position as a standalone piece.

This version of the character is a lot different but every similarity shines its brightest from the little "Wahs" he makes as a way of laughing to his peg leg like way of walking. I really like the idea of him having to wear a brace on his leg like that. He's not the rival we once knew him as, he's filth at the bottom of the street who's just trying to make ends meet too. He's apart of a gang and owns a club but now he wants to own the city and that's really kind of the basis of his character in other media too so is it really that different in the end.

It kind of makes sense for his stingy grimy style to be more of the underdog built up and made for the people rather than born from excellence. Honestly, he's a little like Cartman when it comes to his mom. You see how much he obsesses over her though and then it comes to a crux when he has to choose his scam or her.

I'm sure you've heard that a version of Robin is in this (Vick instead of Dick) and he's the same way, I wouldn't have pegged him as that but I can't say I dislike where it headed. He doesn't as easily take up fighting, he's no acrobat, he's scared, he's being played by this gangster and he knows it but he dives deeper into that world. It makes sense that an orphan let alone a kid would be more like this, it's not a revenge story that Batman teaches, it's a courage choice that Penguin suggests and plays off of really well. And that's a great starting point for Robin…if he was Robin. (Not actually Robin, sorry)

Don't expect big connections outside of the Robert Pattinson movie, it makes it less predictable this way. In fact, there are points where I'd pause and be like "How's he gonna hide the knife?!" and then he tackles someone. "Oh he's gonna plant it." and then they search the guy and they don't find it and the mystery starts all over again. It's like a quick-time event you aren't sure you won or failed, a lot of stuff feels like the storytelling of a Telltale game and that's part of what makes it interesting. I never knew how things were going to turn out, I was always proved wrong and that's a big surprise for me because it's been a while since I've seen something to that great of an effect.

And the casting is great, the writing too. I've talked about how little meaningless stuff can make an impact sometimes like how at the beginning of Endgame they talk about "Who puts mayo on a hot dog?" and it's memorable. This one has that with lines like the cilantro, might as well stick a bar of soap in my mouth. And just grade-A lines. "I don't know how to trust you." "How about I keep showing you how." Dare I say that this is better than 'The Batman' because it doesn't have those annoying camera blockages.

And freaking Sophia going through her arc becoming the very thing she fought and sort of doing the opposite of what Oz did with Vic, that's really something but then she's like "Yeah, no, I don't want that either, let me become a new villain and make a name for myself." I want to see more of this universe, it successfully introduced so much that I just previously had no interest in the comics. It's not a perfect series, as I said, it's a different sort of take on everything, more grounded and realistic, but if you can get behind the concept then they deliver it very nicely. I wasn't even really excited for it so I was genuinely surprised then hooked by just the first episode.

[cryptiqish]

some quick thoughts on nerdy prudes must die

first off - this is 100% a return to form for starkid for me. tgwdlm was like. lighting in a bottle but i really, really am not a fan of black friday - so i dipped after that, and never really looked into nightmare time etc. as i'm not super into the hatchetfield eldritch lore stuff - honestly, i figured i was aging out of it. THAT SAID. holy shit. npmd is brilliant

every single goddamn song is a banger. every one. it's so rare for me to like everything at least to a little bit, but when i can interchange my entire top 5 you know it's brilliant. high school is killing me, nerdy prudes must die, dirty girl, hatchet town...all top tier starkid in general. up there w tgwdlm

angela giarratana and will branner steal this entire show. absolutely insane stuff from both of them. will in particular...oh man. it's his show and you just KNOW it

oh shit!!! oh fuck!!!! i didnt think thered be a skele'uhn here... im so fucking scared of skele'uhnz!!!

it's FUNNY

i <3 the weird anime nerd kid. rip king

jon's vocals and just. general range in this is amazing to see from tgwdlm

 i will say i wish this maintained the more straight slasher vibe of the first act all the way through but that’s just personal preference since i'm less into the overarching eldritch lore stuff as mentioned. with that in mind though, i didn't find the lords in black stuff as jarring as i thought i would (and the summoning's a banger) - so it works narratively. i think at the end of the day i prefer my standalone shows - not everything needs to be an extended universe - so i was pleasantly surprised at how relatively well this could function as its own thing.

following that - i think this is the closest starkid's gotten to like, off-broadway quality - with plot modifications i could 100% see it making the jump. the production quality - of both the musical itself and the proshot, is amazing - everything pops, it's incredibly polished and just looks brilliant (again, such a step up from BF.)

shoutout to the costume design in particular. top tier work again. ghost max looked crazy good.

for something that in actuality didn't get a lot of focus...can’t stop thinking about how the whole max jagerman grace chastity dynamic is like the absolute HARDEST thing to randomly come out of starkid. the implicit themes had absolutely no right to go that hard!!!! it’s a silly horror comedy!

devout repressed christian and a boy that thinks he’s god. and then she deals with the first sign of sexual attraction to him by killing him??

and then his ghost comes back for vengeance, viewing it as divine justice - and then she ends the musical enacting her own vengeful divine justice?? straight up with modified reprise of his song?? they’re one and the same?? the prayer motif???

“will you pray for me / when i’m gone / or is this the eternal dark without a dawn” and “who will pray for you / when your body’s gone” is like the rawest motif of all time and it’s in the same musical that has an ten minute long barbecue joke sequence unrelated to the plot

nothing sexier than the motif of killing god and god killing you, in general. i do think i loved this one because it played with a lot of my fave tropes and themes of horror - high school slasher, archetypes, coming back wrong, religion, all that

"the big game" kept cracking me up it's so dumb and yet

anyway this whole thing just felt like we've unlocked...i dunno, a new level of starkid?? i was blown away and i'm sure for those more invested in hatchetfield beyond tgwdlm it hit even more, but it's left me so excited to see what's next from them for the first time in years.

[movingmusically]

Caught Feeling: The Edge of Desire - One Shot

Author’s Note:

A continuation of Pages and Promises (after some time has passed), but can be read as a standalone.

Word Count: 7,090

Masterlist

I stepped into Hank’s apartment, a little surprised to find the place quiet and empty. The lights were dim, the familiar scent of his cologne lingering in the air, but there was no sign of him. I paused just inside the door, my brows furrowing in confusion.

“Hank?” I called out, my voice echoing softly through the living room. No answer. I frowned, half-expecting him to jump out and scare me, but there was only silence.

That’s when I noticed the black garment bag hanging from a hook by the coat rack, a neatly folded note sitting on top. My heart gave a little flutter of anticipation as I stepped closer, picking up the note with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. In Hank’s familiar scrawl, the message was short but full of promise:

I’ve been thinking about you in this all day. Put it on and text me when you’re ready. Tonight, I’m in control.

A shiver ran down my spine, and I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning too widely. The thrill of anticipation wound through me, and I found myself practically buzzing with energy. We had talked about Hank taking charge sometime, but this was on a whole different level.

I unzipped the garment bag carefully, my breath catching when I saw the outfit he’d chosen. A black lace bra, a matching thong, a delicate suspender belt with sheer stockings, and a pair of sky-high stiletto heels. It was the kind of ensemble that left nothing to the imagination, and just the thought of slipping into it made me blush.

“Hank, you absolute menace,” I muttered, though my voice was full of affection. He knew exactly how to get under my skin, how to make me feel both flustered and thrilled. My fingers brushed over the delicate lace, and I couldn’t help the way my body reacted, heat already pooling low in my belly.

I stepped into his bedroom to change, my nerves buzzing and my heart pounding in my chest. There was something deliciously vulnerable about putting on something he’d chosen, about letting him take control. It felt new and exciting, and I was more than ready for whatever he had planned.

Once I was dressed, I took a moment to look at myself in the mirror. The lingerie hugged every curve, the stockings and suspender belt framing my legs in a way that was downright sinful. The heels added an extra touch of daring, and I had to admit—even to my own self-critical eyes—that I looked damn good. But it wasn’t just about how I looked. It was the idea that Hank had picked this out, that he’d imagined me like this, and that thought alone made me feel like I was on fire.

I grabbed my phone with shaky fingers, typing out a quick text: Ready when you are.

Almost immediately, my phone buzzed with his reply: Stay there. I’m coming to get you.

I swallowed hard, my anticipation spiking. Hank was about to take control, and I had no idea what he had in store for me. But that was half the fun. The thrill of not knowing, of surrendering to him, sent a rush of excitement through my veins. The game was about to begin, and I was more than ready to play.

The door creaked open, and I turned to see Hank step into the room. His eyes immediately found mine, and the look he gave me was enough to make my knees go weak. He shut the door behind him, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was savouring every moment.

He didn’t say anything at first, just took a moment to drink me in. His gaze raked over me, from the stiletto heels all the way up to the delicate lace bra, and I could see the heat simmering in his eyes. His jaw clenched slightly, as though he was fighting to maintain control, and that simple reaction sent a thrill racing through me.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice husky. “You look… perfect.” He crossed the room slowly, each step measured, like a predator closing in on his prey. The tension crackled between us, electric and all-consuming, and I couldn’t help the way my body leaned toward him, craving his touch.

When he finally stopped in front of me, he didn’t reach out right away. Instead, he began to circle me, his fingertips brushing lightly over my bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His touch was feather-light, teasing, and it made my breath catch in my throat. He was so close, and yet he wasn’t giving me what I wanted—not yet.

“I have to admit,” he said, his voice dropping into that deep, commanding register that made me shiver, “seeing you like this is even better than I imagined.” He paused behind me, his hands ghosting over the curve of my waist before pulling back again. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding. “I can take a guess,” I replied, my voice breathy and a little shaky, and I could practically feel his smirk without having to see it.

He came back around to face me, his eyes locking onto mine. “I hope you’re ready for what I have planned, sweetheart,” he murmured, leaning in so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath against my ear. “Because tonight, you’re mine. And I’m going to make sure you don’t forget it.”

My pulse raced at his words, a mixture of nerves and excitement swirling through me. The anticipation was almost unbearable, and I could feel my body reacting, heat pooling low in my belly.

He leaned back, his gaze flicking over me one more time before he gestured toward the bed. “Sit,” he commanded, and I obeyed immediately, moving to the edge of the bed. The authority in his voice made my breath hitch, and I felt a delicious thrill at surrendering to his control.

He watched me with an intensity that made my skin prickle, and I could see the way his chest rose and fell, like he was keeping himself in check. “Good,” he praised, and the warmth in his voice sent a rush of satisfaction through me.

Then, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silk blindfold, letting it dangle from his fingers. “Hands behind your back,” he instructed, his voice soft but firm.

I hesitated for the briefest moment, feeling the vulnerability of the moment, but the look in his eyes—so full of desire and reverence—made me trust him completely. I clasped my hands behind me, my fingers trembling slightly, and he stepped forward, tying the blindfold securely over my eyes.

The darkness was disorienting, and my senses seemed to heighten in response. I could hear the rustle of his clothes, the soft creak of the floorboards under his feet, and feel the heat of his body as he moved around me.

“Perfect,” he murmured, and I felt his fingers brush over my cheek, gentle and reverent. “Are you okay?”

The question was like an anchor, grounding me in the moment, and I nodded, a small smile curving my lips. “Yeah,” I whispered. “I’m good.”

His thumb grazed over my lower lip, and I couldn’t help the way I leaned into his touch. “Good girl,” he said, and the praise sent a rush of warmth flooding through me.

Then his hands were gone, and I felt the loss of contact keenly. The anticipation built as I waited, blind and vulnerable, for whatever he would do next. The suspense was delicious, and I found myself holding my breath, listening for any hint of what he was planning.

But Hank, ever the tease, made me wait. The seconds stretched on, each one thick with tension, and I could feel my body trembling with need, my skin hypersensitive and aching for his touch.

The wait was maddening. My body felt like a live wire, every nerve ending tingling in anticipation of what he’d do. I sat on the edge of the bed, blindfolded, the sensation of the smooth fabric blocking out everything but the sound of my own breath.

I could hear the soft rustle as he moved closer, and then I felt the bed dip as he sat beside me. His hand found mine, his touch gentle but firm as he guided me to my feet. “Up,” he murmured, and I obeyed, the heat of his body pressed close behind me, and I shivered as his hands slid around my waist, steadying me.

He gently positioned me so that I was standing between his legs, my back to him, my hands resting loosely at my side. “Stay still,” he instructed, his voice a low, soothing rumble that sent a thrill through me. His breath was warm against my back as he reached for something and then his hands were on mine, gently pulling my wrists behind my back. “Hands together,” he instructed, his voice low and full of intent. I obeyed, the thrill of surrender making my pulse race.

But then, as he started to tie the silky scarf around my wrists, I felt him pause. He fumbled for a moment, the tension broken by his exasperated muttering. “Okay, so tying knots is definitely not my strong suit,” he admitted, a self-deprecating laugh slipping out.

I couldn’t help it—I burst out laughing, the sound bubbling up despite the charged atmosphere. He huffed, clearly trying to hold back a grin, and then gave me a sheepish look I could feel even through the blindfold.

“Don’t laugh,” he said, trying to sound stern, but the playful note in his voice gave him away. He cleared his throat, attempting to get back into character. “You’re supposed to be trembling in anticipation.”

I bit my lip, still giggling, and he groaned dramatically. “See? This is what happens when I try to be intimidating,” he complained, but his hands finally managed to secure the knot in a way that felt snug but not uncomfortable. “There. Done.”

The playful moment dissolved, replaced by a heavy, charged silence. I felt the shift in him, he stood, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. “Better?” he asked, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, and I shivered, the laughter dying in my throat.

“Yes,” I managed, and I could feel his smile, the confidence returning as he wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. The feeling of his solid warmth behind me, combined with the helplessness of having my hands tied, sent a fresh wave of heat through me.

“Are you ready?” he murmured, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below my ear. I shivered, my head tipping to the side to give him more access.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice breathless, and I could feel his smile against my skin.

“Good girl,” he praised, and then his hands slid up, cupping my breasts over the lace of the bra. He squeezed gently, his thumbs brushing over my nipples through the delicate fabric, and I gasped, arching into his touch. The sensation was exquisite, his touch firm but teasing, and I felt my body responding, every nerve on high alert.

He kept at it, rolling my nipples between his fingers, applying just enough pressure to make me writhe in his hold. I couldn’t see, couldn’t touch him, and the combination of vulnerability and anticipation was almost too much to handle.

But Hank wasn’t done. He leaned in again, his teeth grazing over the curve of my shoulder, sending another shiver down my spine. “I can feel you trembling now,” he teased, his voice dark and full of satisfaction.

“Shut up,” I shot back, though my voice was shaky, and he laughed, the sound vibrating through me.

“Nope,” he replied cheerfully, his hands sliding down my body once more. “I think I’m enjoying this a bit too much.” And then his touch grew more insistent, his fingers skimming over the bare skin just above the waistband of my thong.

I let out a broken sound, and he hummed, clearly pleased with the effect he was having on me. “Think you’re ready for more?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, and I nodded frantically, my body aching for whatever he had in store.

“All you have to do is say the word,” he added, and I knew he meant it, that he would stop if I asked him to. But there was no chance of that happening—I was entirely his tonight, and I couldn’t wait to see what he’d do next.

“Please,” I whispered, and he rewarded me with a slow, wicked smile that I could feel in the air, even though I couldn’t see it.

“Good,” he said, and the anticipation only built higher as I waited for his next move, knowing he was just getting started.

Hank hummed thoughtfully, his hands releasing me for a moment, and I could feel the anticipation vibrating through every cell in my body. The loss of his touch left me breathless, desperate, and craving more, which I was sure was exactly what he intended. He was always so good at building tension, at teasing me until I was practically begging.

The bed dipped slightly as he moved behind me, and I felt his warm breath ghost over my neck before his lips followed, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to my shoulder. “Stay still,” he instructed again, and I felt the air shift as he moved away, leaving me blind and bound, my senses heightened and straining to follow his movements.

The anticipation was exquisite, every second that passed making my heart beat faster. My body was already sensitive, every brush of air or whisper of sound sending shivers down my spine. It was a heady feeling, surrendering so completely, and I knew that whatever Hank had in store, it was going to be an experience I wouldn’t forget.

I heard the faint rustle of something being pulled from his drawer, and my curiosity sparked, mingling with the electric tension coursing through me. He didn’t say anything, leaving me in suspense, but I could sense the shift in the air, feel the excitement thrumming in his movements. When he finally returned, I felt his hands on my hips, guiding me backward until I hit the edge of the bed.

“Climb on the bed and get on your knees,” he commanded softly, and I obeyed, sinking onto the mattress, my pulse pounding. The position left me vulnerable, but the thrill of it made my whole body hum. His hands slid up my arms, trailing over my shoulders before cupping my face from behind, his touch gentle and reverent.

“Still okay?” he asked, and his voice had a tenderness that made my heart clench.

I nodded, a soft smile spreading across my lips. “More than okay,” I whispered, and I felt his thumbs brush against my cheeks, a small, affectionate caress.

“Good,” he murmured, and then his hands were gone, leaving me aching for him, for his touch. The seconds stretched out, each one more torturous than the last, and I couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped my lips.

Hank chuckled, the sound low and full of promise. “Patience,” he reminded me, and I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. I was about to respond—probably something cheeky—but before I could get the words out, I felt the cool sensation of something soft and feathery trailing over my skin.

It started at my collarbone, drifting lightly down over my chest, and I realised he must have bought some teasing tools—a feather, perhaps. The sensation made me squirm, a giggle escaping before I could stop it. It was ticklish and maddening, the delicate brush making me hyper-aware of every inch of skin.

“Ticklish, are we?” he teased, and I could hear the grin in his voice. He didn’t let up, trailing the feather over my exposed stomach, down to the tops of my thighs, and back up again. The teasing made my skin feel hot and tight, my body aching for something more, something solid.

“Hank,” I whined, the word coming out more desperate than I’d intended.

He hummed thoughtfully, as though considering my plea. “Hmm, I don’t know. I’m quite enjoying this.” The feather danced over my skin once more, and I groaned, my muscles tensing with the need to be touched more firmly.

Finally, he seemed to take pity on me. The feather disappeared, replaced by the warm, solid press of his hands on my waist. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear. “Ready for me to really make you squirm?” he whispered, and I shivered, my whole body coming alive at the promise in his voice.

“Yes,” I gasped, and I could feel his satisfied smile as he began to make good on his word.

Hank’s hands tightened on my waist, grounding me for a moment before he let one hand drift slowly down my body. Even through the blindfold, I could picture his expression—the way his eyes would be dark and intense, the way his lips would curve into that irresistible smirk that made my pulse race. The anticipation was nearly overwhelming, and I found myself holding my breath, waiting for his next move.

“Remember,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding, “you’re not in control tonight.” The reminder sent a thrill shooting through me, and I nodded, my whole body trembling.

Then his touch disappeared again, and I heard another soft rustle, followed by a faint buzzing sound that made my heart skip a beat. My breath caught in my throat, and I realised what he had in his hands: a vibrator.

The anticipation was unbearable, every nerve in my body alight with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. The buzzing drew closer, and I squirmed on my knees, unable to stop the way my body responded. Hank chuckled softly behind me, the sound full of satisfaction. “You’re so sensitive,” he said, the vibrator brushing lightly against the inside of my thigh. I gasped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through me, and he continued to tease, skimming the toy over my skin without giving me what I truly wanted.

“Hank, please,” I begged, my voice breaking on the plea. I could hear how desperate I sounded, but I didn’t care. The need for him, for more, was overwhelming, and I couldn’t keep still, my hips shifting in an attempt to get closer to the source of pleasure.

He clicked his tongue, the sound teasing and a little scolding. “Impatient,” he chided, but his voice was warm with affection. “I told you to be patient, didn’t I?” He pressed the vibrator more firmly against me, just above where I wanted it most, and I let out a broken moan, my body arching into the sensation.

The teasing continued, his touch just barely grazing where I ached for him, and it was driving me mad. My head fell forward, and I bit my lip, trying to keep myself from begging outright, even though every cell in my body was screaming for him.

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” he said, his voice thick with desire. The vibrator pressed against me again, this time with just enough pressure to make my breath catch, and he finally, finally let it slip lower, the sensation making me gasp.

My knees wobbled, and I couldn’t help the way my body reacted, the pleasure so intense that I felt like I was unraveling. But just as I started to lose myself in the feeling, he pulled the vibrator away, leaving me aching and frustrated.

“Not so fast,” he whispered, his breath warm against my neck. “We’re just getting started.”

I whimpered, my whole body trembling with need, and he laughed softly, the sound sending shivers down my spine. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?” he asked, his hands sliding back up to cup my breasts through the lace of the bra. His fingers brushed over my nipples, and I gasped, arching into his touch.

“Yes,” I managed to choke out, my voice breathless and needy. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Atta girl,” he praised, and the words sent another rush of heat through me. The vibrator returned, the teasing starting all over again, and I realised with a mix of anticipation and desperation that he was going to keep me on the edge for as long as he wanted, making me wait and beg until he decided to give me what I craved.

And despite the torment, despite the way I felt like I was about to burst from the need, I trusted him completely. Hank was in control tonight, and I was more than ready to surrender to whatever he had planned.

Hank’s hands moved over my body, his touch gentle but with a deliberate intent that left me trembling. The vibrator traced slow, torturous circles against my skin, sending waves of pleasure through me, but never quite giving me what I needed. My whole body felt strung tight, the anticipation and teasing building to an unbearable degree.

“Hank,” I whimpered, my voice cracking. “Please.”

His lips brushed over my shoulder, his breath warm and teasing. “Please, what?” he asked, his voice low and maddeningly calm. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

I swallowed hard, the words almost too difficult to get out. “Please… I need you to touch me,” I whispered, feeling both vulnerable and desperate. “I can’t take any more teasing.”

He hummed, as though considering my plea. “Hmm, I don’t know,” he said, his fingers tracing the edge of my thong, making me shiver. “I kind of like seeing you like this. Completely at my mercy.”

My legs trembled, and I bit back another whimper. The vibrator moved lower, brushing over the lace of my thong, and I moaned, my hips bucking forward instinctively. But just as I started to feel that building pleasure, he pulled back again, leaving me gasping.

“Hank, please,” I begged, my voice shaky. “I need you. I need more.”

He sighed, like he was thoroughly enjoying every moment of this. “You really are impatient tonight,” he teased, his hands finally slipping under the waistband of my thong, and I couldn’t help the way my breath caught. His touch was gentle, teasing, as he cupped me, feeling how wet and needy I was.

“God, you’re soaked,” he murmured, his voice full of wonder and desire. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” I gasped, my body leaning into his touch, desperate for more. “Only for you.”

His fingers slipped over my slick heat, and I let out a broken moan, the relief of his touch making me feel like I was coming undone. But just as quickly, he pulled away again, leaving me aching and unsatisfied. The torment was exquisite, and I felt tears of frustration prick at the corners of my eyes.

“Patience,” he whispered, his hands trailing over my waist, steadying me. “I’m not done with you yet.”

The vibrator returned, this time pressed firmly against my most sensitive spot, and I cried out, the sensation so overwhelming that I nearly lost my balance.

His other hand held me steady, his grip firm as he kept me from collapsing. “Easy,” he murmured, his voice softening slightly. “I’ve got you.”

The pleasure built quickly, a tidal wave of sensation that had me gasping and writhing in his hold. My head fell back against his shoulder, my body trembling as he pushed me closer and closer to the edge. I was so close, so achingly close, and I could feel my release hovering just out of reach.

But once again, he pulled the vibrator away, leaving me teetering on the brink. A strangled sob escaped my lips, the denial almost too much to bear, and he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against my skin.

“Not yet,” he whispered, his lips brushing over my neck. “You’ll come when I say you can, and not a moment before.”

I let out a shaky breath, my body thrumming with need, and I knew I would do anything he asked if it meant finally finding release. “Please,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I’ll be good, I promise. Just… please.”

His hands slid over my hips, pulling me back against him, and I could feel how hard he was, how much this was affecting him too, but he was determined to draw this out, to make me wait until I was on the brink of madness.

“Not yet,” he repeated, his voice firm but laced with his own desire. “I’m going to make sure you remember this, sweetheart. Every touch, every second.”

I shivered, my body aching with anticipation, and I knew he was right. This was something I’d never forget—the way he took control, the way he made me feel like I was on fire, completely and utterly his.

He kept me balanced on the edge, expertly guiding my body through wave after wave of anticipation, never quite letting me fall. His lips trailed kisses over my neck and shoulder, and every inch of my skin felt like it was sparking with energy, hyperaware of every place he touched me and everywhere he didn’t.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take another second of teasing, when the pressure inside me had built to a point that felt almost unbearable, he pulled back. I felt the bed shift as he moved, and the absence of his warmth made me whimper, my entire body trembling from the tension he’d built in me.

“Stay still,” he instructed, his voice gentle but full of authority. I tried to obey, my hands still tied behind my back, the blindfold pressing softly against my eyelids, heightening every sensation.

I could hear him rummaging for something, the anticipation twisting through me. Then, the bed dipped as he settled behind me again, and I shivered at the heat radiating off his body.

“Hank…” I whispered, and I felt his hands slide up my sides, calming and grounding me.

“Shh,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the nape of my neck. “You’ve been so good for me. I’m just getting started.”

A shudder ran through me at his words, my entire body alight with anticipation. His fingers found the knot in the scarf binding my hands, and he carefully untied it, massaging my wrists gently to bring back the circulation. But before I could even think about touching him, he caught my hands and guided them back around to the front, leaving them loose but resting on my lap.

“Don’t move,” he commanded softly, and I nodded, breathless.

Then his hands traced over my shoulders and down my arms, and I could feel his breath warm against my neck. He kissed my shoulder, a slow, open-mouthed kiss that sent a shiver down my spine. His hands drifted lower, over my ribs, and came to rest on my thighs, just above the edge of my stockings. His thumbs drew slow circles over my bare skin, and my breath hitched.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he whispered, and I could hear the edge of strain in his voice. “Seeing you like this… it’s enough to make me lose my mind.”

The words made my pulse race, and I felt the heat between us intensify. I wanted him, needed him, more than anything, but I was completely at his mercy. It was thrilling and frustrating all at once.

He moved so he was in front of me and lifted one of my hands to his chest, letting me feel the rapid beat of his heart. “You feel that?” he murmured, his voice rough. “That’s what you do to me.”

I swallowed, my fingers flexing against his skin, aching to touch more. But he guided my hand back to my lap, his control unwavering.

“Are you ready to be good for me?” he asked, and I nodded, barely able to form words. “To do exactly what I tell you?”

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling with need.

His hands slid back up my thighs, over the lace of the suspender belt, and I shivered as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my thong. He slowly pulled it down, letting the anticipation build, and I felt the cool air against my heated skin, the sensation making me gasp.

He guided me to lie back on the bed, his hands firm yet gentle as he positioned me, the anticipation twisting tighter in my core. I was completely at his mercy, exposed and vulnerable. He was taking his time, making me feel every moment, and the tension between us was like a live wire, humming with electricity.

His fingers traced a tantalising path down my stomach, skimming over my hip bones before drifting lower. When he finally touched me, his fingers gentle and teasing, I let out a desperate moan, my body arching into his hand. He brushed over my folds, feather-light and teasing, his touch was slow, deliberate, gliding through my wetness, circling my clit with a maddeningly gentle pressure that made me gasp and arch my back.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, his fingers slid lower, exploring every inch of me, before dipping inside with a delicious, unhurried rhythm. The sensation was overwhelming, the perfect mix of pleasure and frustration, and I found myself trembling beneath him, every nerve ending on high alert as he kept me balanced on the knife’s edge, right on the verge of release but never quite giving me enough to tip over.

“Hank, please,” I begged, my voice breaking. “I can’t… I need…”

He finally relented, pressing his thumb more firmly against my clit, his voice full of reverence and desire. “Then come for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, the added pressure combined with his words sending a shockwave through my body. The relief of finally being allowed to let go sent me spiralling over the edge, and the pleasure crashed over me in overwhelming waves, leaving me breathless and shaking, my body trembling with the force of it.

I called out his name, the sound echoing through the room, and he held me through it, his hands steady and soothing as he whispered praises in my ear. The blindfold made everything feel more intense, every sensation magnified, and I could feel the strength of his hold, grounding me as I came down from the high.

When I finally caught my breath, he gently removed the blindfold, his eyes searching mine, full of concern and tenderness. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

I nodded, a tired but content smile spreading across my lips. “More than okay,” I whispered, leaning into his touch. “That was… incredible.”

He grinned, the playful sparkle returning to his eyes. “Good,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Because I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Hank’s playful grin transformed into something darker, more insistent, and I shivered as he leaned in, his lips brushing mine briefly before pulling back to study my face. His thumb grazed my cheek, and the warmth in his eyes never wavered, even as his expression turned serious, full of promise.

“Are you sure you can handle more?” he asked, his voice low and full of reverence, the question both a tease and a genuine check-in.

I nodded, my heart still pounding from the release he had so expertly given me. “Yes,” I breathed, my body already beginning to react to the anticipation.

“Good,” he whispered, and without another word, he moved down my body, his hands mapping the curves of my waist and hips, pausing just long enough to unhook my bra and slide it off, leaving me completely exposed. As he settled himself between my thighs, the look he gave me, half-worshipful and half-devilish, sent a thrill racing through my veins.

He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh, the sensation soft and reverent, before gently spreading my legs wider. The vulnerability was heady, my body still humming from the intensity of my orgasm, but the way he touched me, looked at me, made me feel cherished, even as he prepared to drive me crazy once again.

From beside the bed, he picked up the small, sleek vibrator once more. He gave me a wicked smile as he pressed the toy lightly against my swollen clit, the vibrations starting off low but deep enough to make me gasp.

“Oh, God,” I breathed, my entire body jolting from the sudden sensation.

Hank chuckled softly, his voice full of playful delight. “Think you’re ready for another round?” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead leaning down to trail kisses up my abdomen, the toy still buzzing steadily against me. The overstimulation was immediate, my body already sensitive and trembling from the release he had just granted me.

His free hand held the toy firmly in place, refusing to let me squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure. “Hank,” I whimpered, a desperate edge to my voice as the sensation intensified, each pulse of the vibrator sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me, pushing me toward another climax far too soon.

He hummed, his mouth finding my breast and latching on, his tongue swirling around my nipple as his hand pressed the vibrator more insistently against me. The combination of sensations was too much, too soon, and I felt myself tipping over the edge again, this time faster, harder.

“Hank, I—” The words were lost as another wave of ecstasy crashed through me, my body arching off the bed, every nerve alight with overstimulation. I was gasping, shaking, and he held me through it, his touch both commanding and soothing.

But I didn’t have time to come down, he didn’t stop. The vibrator stayed pressed to my clit, the unrelenting buzz keeping me on the knife’s edge of pleasure and pain, my body twisting and squirming, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

“Too much?” he asked, his voice full of gentle concern, even as his eyes sparkled with desire.

I bit my lip, trying to catch my breath, my body still trembling. “I… I don’t know,” I managed, the overstimulation making me feel delirious, every sensation magnified.

He gave me a wicked grin, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “You’re doing so well, baby” he praised, his voice full of pride. “But let me know if you need me to stop.”

Then, as if he hadn’t already pushed me to my limit, he slipped two fingers back inside me, curling them in a way that made my vision blur. The vibrator’s relentless pressure combined with his fingers was almost too much, and I clung to him, tears spilling down my cheeks as the pleasure built to a crescendo once more. My body quaked, and I let out a sob of ecstasy as another orgasm tore through me, this one even more powerful than the last. My vision went white, my entire being unraveling as wave after wave of overwhelming bliss left me trembling, every nerve alight.

He whispered soothing words, grounding me as I came down, but he didn’t give me a chance to fully recover. The sight of me, trembling and undone, seemed to be his breaking point. His restraint shattered, and with a desperate groan, he pulled back just long enough to flip me over, pressing me into the mattress. His body covered mine, and I felt the heat and urgency in every inch of his touch, his need palpable and all-consuming.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he said, his voice rough and wrecked, thick with desire. “I need you.”

I felt his hands slide to my waist, fingers pressing firmly into my skin as he lifted my hips, angling me just the way he wanted. My forearms and face stayed pressed into the mattress, my body arching to accommodate him, and the vulnerability of the position sent a shiver of anticipation through me.

He paused, his grip strong but gentle, and I could feel the tension thrumming through him as he leaned forward, his breath warm against my ear. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice still husky but filled with concern. The way he always checked in, even when he was on the brink of losing himself, made my heart swell.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice breathless and full of need. “Please.”

A groan of relief escaped him as he buried himself inside me, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my back. The first thrust was slow, almost reverent, and I gasped at the feeling, at how perfectly he filled me. His hands tightened on my hips, grounding me, but he kept his pace measured, even as I felt him fighting to keep from giving in to his desperation.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, his voice strained but full of care. His hips moved again, a little harder this time, and the force made my breath catch. “I need you to feel good. Always.”

The sincerity in his voice, even as he began to move faster, sent a rush of warmth through me. His rhythm picked up, his hips snapping into mine with more intensity, but his hands stayed steady, holding me securely. Every movement was driven by that careful balance between passion and control, and it left me trembling beneath him, the pleasure building higher with each thrust.

“God, you feel so good,” he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself together. His hands tightened on my hips, pulling me back to meet each thrust, and the force of it made my breath catch, my fingers clutching at the sheets.

I gasped, the sensation overwhelming, each thrust pushing me further into the mattress. The way he moved was different now—hungry, needy, and driven by the loss of control that had finally overtaken him. His rhythm was relentless, his hips slamming into mine with a desperation that left me breathless.

I could hear his heavy breathing, feel the way his body tensed and shuddered behind me, and it only made me more aware of my own arousal, the pleasure building once more with every rough, urgent movement. The room was filled with the sound of our bodies meeting, the air thick with heat and need.

His hands slid up my sides, fingers digging into my skin with just enough pressure to leave me feeling completely claimed. Each thrust was powerful, driven by the passion and urgency we’d both been holding back, and I felt myself spiralling quickly toward the edge once more. The way he filled me, the way he moved—there was nothing gentle about it now, just pure, raw desire, and it had me gasping with every powerful thrust.

“Hank,” I moaned, my voice breaking on the sound. The way he was taking me, unrestrained and unapologetically intense, sent my senses spinning, and I couldn’t hold back the shivers of pleasure that rippled through me. His hands tightened, grounding me, and his rhythm grew even more demanding, each movement hitting just right, building the tension until it was almost unbearable.

“Look at you,” he groaned, his voice wrecked with longing. “So perfect, so beautiful.” The words made my heart clench, a rush of warmth flooding through me, and I knew I was close, so achingly close.

His hand slipped around to the front, fingers brushing over my sensitive, swollen clit, and I let out a broken cry, the added stimulation sending me hurtling toward my climax. “Come on baby, one more,” he rasped, his voice full of desperate need. “I need to feel you.”

The command sent a shockwave through me, and I shattered, pleasure crashing over me in wave after wave. My whole body shook, my cries muffled by the sheets as he continued to move, drawing out every last bit of ecstasy until I was completely undone. My walls clenched around him, and I felt him falter, his rhythm stuttering.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice breaking, and his hips snapped into mine one last time before he came, his release washing over him. I felt his body tense, his grip on my hips tightening, and the way he moaned my name sent a final, shuddering wave of pleasure through me.

He held me there, pressed against him as the aftershocks rippled through us both. For a moment, the only sounds were our heavy breathing and the pounding of our hearts.

He sighed in relief, a soft, satisfied sound, and he slowly eased out of me, his hands gentle as he helped me lower my hips back to the bed. His touch was tender, full of affection, and I turned to meet his eyes, feeling my heart swell at the love and care I saw there.

He pulled me close, whispering sweet, reverent words in my ear, his touch gentle and comforting as I came back to myself, my body limp and trembling in his arms. “You were absolutely perfect,” he murmured, his voice full of reverence and awe. “So beautiful, so responsive… You have no idea how incredible you were.”

He gently wiped away the tears that had escaped, his touch soft and full of care. Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to each of my damp cheeks before his lips found mine in a gentle, soothing kiss. It was full of warmth and love, a sweet contrast to the intensity of everything that had come before.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched mine, full of concern and affection. “Are you okay?” he asked again, his voice soft and earnest, his thumb still caressing my cheek.

I took a deep breath, the last shivers of pleasure still running through me, and gave him a small, tired smile. “I’ve never felt this good,” I whispered, my voice still a little shaky.

His shoulders relaxed at my words, and he returned my smile, his own relief evident. “Thank you for trusting me.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close, and let out a contented sigh. “Always,” I whispered, and I meant it. With him, I felt safe, cherished, and completely adored. And in that moment, there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

[nadas-dirthalen]

I wanted to join you in being excited for Veilguard! I first played Inquisition and after I finished Inquisition I went back to Origins and DA2.

I kind of get sad that the choices were so limited, but I also feel we got a little spoiled with Mass Effect. Every little choice was subtly referenced - like how you dealt with the Consort or Conrad Verner.

But at the same time, Inquisition has also focused more on each story being kind of standalone - new protagonists with little cameos from previous companions.

Anyway, I’m excited to see Varric and Solas again. I’m trying not to engage with the news coming out because the best part of these games is the story and there’s nothing as joyful as hearing a story for the first time.

I am so happy you're keeping your perspective balanced! I did briefly grieve the lack of more choices, but I am honestly happier about Veilguard by the day.

I think people also forget how easy it is to reference Inquisition without those specific details. The writers have been clear that they did not want to not mention Inquisition at all, just mention the things that directly and heavily impact Veilguard.

The Inquisitor put the Divine on the Sunburst Throne. That is the detail that would shock someone in Tevinter. And it's an easy one to write, without mentioning the details. "Divine Victoria only sits on the Orlesian Sunburst Throne because of the Inquisitor—and what right did [Lavellan/Trevelyan/Cadash/Adaar] have?" asks a disgruntled Tevinter citizen. THAT is the biggest impact of that choice on a story about world-ending circumstances set in Northern Thedas. No one needs to know whether the Divine raises nugs or reads smutty literature or was once a Circle mage. THE WORLD'S ENDING.

Even Varric referencing Hawke is easy to write in. It takes a little work, but you CAN write great sentences without the use of pronouns. "Andraste's tits, this makes me miss Kirkwall. Not for the peace and quiet, hah, oh no. But at least we had a good bar to go to after every shit day. Hawke and I—we never missed a damn night, even when the family moved into Hightown. No matter where we were, what we were doing—or who—we always found the time. Even after Hawke became Champion. You know, that was what I thought of, while I was Viscount. That somewhere closeby, the Hanged Man still stood, stubborn as a cockroach, and maybe a couple other people were still calling it a second home like we did."

Some choices, I do wonder how they'll write, like how they would handle references to Bull or Cassandra's romance. But at the end of the day... Bioware's writers are smart. Love them or hate them, they create a story that functions around hundreds of moving parts. They're smart enough to sneak references in without asking us to answer 200+ questions about all the things we did in Thedas. And I, for one, have faith. :)

[bloody-wonder]

making progress on old series

let it not be said that i can only start new series🧐

new releases:

empire of the damned by jay kristoff (book two in: empire of the vampire). i might have mentioned this one once or twice already so let's keep it brief. i loved it! even more than book one, i think. love liathe joining the main cast, love jean françois' everything, love how everyone got queerer, love the reveals at the end. very excited for the last book in this series, altho i'm a bit disappointed that it's now three books instead of five - since there are five vampire houses i wanted them to keep taking on a house in each book, with blood chastain being the final boss. very rude of kristoff to betray my vision.

the sunshine court by nora sakavic (book four in: all for the game). i don't think this spin off continuation was necessary and i didn't particularly enjoy it but i'm glad jean stans now have their own sacred text. my biggest fear was that nora would retcon something about the og trilogy and that didn't happen so i can just keep living in peace while mostly ignoring tsc fan content. more thoughts on why i didn't vibe with tsc in these posts.

mislaid in parts half-known by seanan mcguire (book nine in: wayward children). so this series consists of books focused on individual wayward children as well as of ensemble books which are usually weaker and this particular novella unfortunately belongs to the latter category. i still liked it fine and it was a quick read but tbh i'm ready for this series to wrap up so i hope goodreads isn't lying about the next book being the final installment.

fence vol. 6: redemption by cs pacat & johanna the mad. i rated it five stars but ngl i have no memory of what happened in this volume altho i read it in february😅 i like this series overall but i feel like the first few volumes were more exciting. weirdly now that the slow burn is finally starting to pay off i suddenly lose interest😕

heartstopper: volume five by alice oseman. i'm not a big fan of heartstopper in general, i think it's overhyped, but i did like this volume more than the previous ones. maybe i'm biased bc it features tori coming out as ace which prompted me to pick up solitaire which i loved and so it retroactively cast a more favorable light on the graphic novel. looking forward to reading the last volume bc i like finishing things and then i might as well read the nick and charlie novellas - at which point i will have become a person who doesn't like oseman's books all that much and yet has somehow read all but one of them🫤

mammoths at the gates and the brides of high hill by nghi vo (books four and five in: the singing hills cycle). i have only really liked the second singing hills novella so at this point it would be smart to admit that this series is simply not for me and stop reading it but. these books are so short and perfect for when you want to get through something quickly even if you know you're not likely to enjoy it. and if indeed eight stories are planned then it means i have now read more than half so i might as well complete the series🤷‍♀️ *gets shot by sunk cost fallacy police*

series i completed:

regency faerie tales by olivia atwater (read books two and three: ten thousand stitches and longshadow). love love LOVE these books!! i read half a soul last october and ten thousand stitches this january - both times when i was sick in bed and i couldn't have wished for better books to help me recover from a cold. the first one is pride & prejudice meets jonathan strange & mr norrell, the second one is a cinderella retelling, both have lovely romances and can be read as standalones. i think half a soul is fairly popular (and constantly compared to the book that shall not be named😒) but ten thousand stitches is very underappreciated. i for one think it's at least as good, if not better, than half a soul - apparently people just can't appreciate a love interest who isn't angsty and brooding😒 longshadow is a companion novel too but imo it features too many characters and concepts from the previous books so it should definitely be read last. i didn't like it as much bc i think it relies too much on the stuff we already know and love instead of giving its protagonists enough time to shine but it is queer which made me realize we don't have nearly enough queer fae books. what a disgrace🧐

noumena by lindsay ellis (read book three: apostles of mercy). so this was unfortunately mind-bogglingly boring. this type of sci fi is usually not my cup of tea and so i stay away from it but i decided to give this series a try bc it was written by lindsay ellis. the first book was entertaining enough but both sequels bored me to tears. it seems i was under a misconception that the story was gonna be about a sad girl trying to navigate a third thing type of relationship with a freaky alien but it was instead about her navigating instalovey relationships with random humans and the alien was also there sometimes. big disappointment👎

series i'm slowly working my way through:

the memoirs of lady trent by marie brennan (read books two, three and four: the tropic of serpents, the voyage of the basilisk and in the labyrinth of drakes). i read book one last december and liked it just enough to continue the series but every next book after that turned out to be amazing. follow lady trent, a 19th century dragon naturalist and adventurer, legendary as she is scandalous, as she travels through fantasy africa, oceania and arabia in search of dragons living and extinct, starts various political upheavals, makes breathtaking discoveries and finds love - a life journey she recounts as an old woman in a delightfully snarky narrative voice.

book two is my favorite so far bc it found a perfect balance of fast-paced adventurous plot on the one hand and character and relationship development on the other. i'm a bit sad that natalie left the main cast after this book - one of the only two criticisms i have of this series is that the titular lady trent remains the only important woman character. i think it wouldn't be too far-fetched to have one more woman on the team and natalie was a perfect protegée who, might i add, is also canonically ace. hate to see her leave😒

book three introduces a love interest who i at first found kinda bland but he grew on me in book four. my favorite relationship in the series however remains the one between lady trent and her trusted colleague tom wilker with whom they used to butt heads when they first met but who is now her dearest friend and longtime companion on her journeys. there are many books about romance and friendship but not so many about the utter satisfaction of having a coworker you can absolutely rely on. my prediction/wish for the last book is for wilker to turn out to be gay and find love too🤞

the other criticism i have has to do with the worldbuilding and i'll elaborate on it when i complete the series later this year.

the witcher by andrzej sapkowski (read books two and three: the time of contempt and baptism of fire). i'm enjoying this series much more than i thought i would. the key to success here is to leave behind all expectations you have from reading western epic fantasy or indeed from the witcher adaptations. this saga started as short stories and sapkowski remains a short story author first and foremost which might irritate a reader expecting a novel with a neat three act structure but which i personally found fascinating. the opening chapter of book two told from the pov of a messenger who encounters all major characters on the road, gets a death prophecy from a girl he doesn't know to be ciri and indeed dies as the chapter ends - i think that was a very creative way to reintroduce the reader to the main cast and plot essentially through the format of a short story.

another thing sapkowski does a lot is conveying everything through dialogue which, as you might know, is like bookish catnip to me lol. some dialogues are there just for the sake of dialogue, only bc the author wanted some side characters he made up to have a funny conversation. to be fair, at worst this structure becomes too meandering but i gotta say i find that chapters that are focused on mundane scenes seemingly going nowhere are more fun than plot focused chapters about sorceresses and wizards fighting or whatever. the witch trial chapter in baptism of fire - that's where it's at for me.

the thing i'm still not so sure about is the way women and women's issues are represented. very mixed feelings on what happens to milva in book three, tho i think i wouldn't be so skeptical had she not been the only woman on the main cast in that book. (cahir and regis are such fun characters with interesting motivations and stuff so ig i'm pissed that the only female character's deal has to be about that). ciri on the other hand is written very well imo and i totally did not expect her to be in a sapphic relationship. sure hope nothing bad happens to her gf🥲

vorkosigan saga by lois mcmaster bujold (read books one, two and four (??): shards of honor, barrayar and the vor game). so after reading the warrior's apprentice and the mountains of mourning last year i took a step back and read cordelia's books which i unfortunately didn't like. cordelia is a type of female character i don't vibe with and the gender themes in her books, while likely very progressive for their time, often made me roll my eyes, grind my teeth etc. in my goodreads reviews i explain my issues in more detail. the ethical implications of uterine replicators haunt me still😕

returning to miles in the vor game was both welcome and disappointing bc i keep expecting more from this man and he keeps falling short of my grand lymondesque expectations. in this book in particular i was immediately hooked on the arctic base plot only for it to be cut short bc this is a space opera and miles needs to go do pew pew pew in space, just like in book one. boo. now that i know weatherman was formerly a short story bujold later incorporated into the vor game i think it's curious that i seem to like miles a lot in short stories and novellas (the mountains of mourning remains my favorite) but am underwhelmed by the full length novel miles.

i will say however that now i have sufficiently adjusted my expectations and am very motivated to find out if there is a vorkosigan book out there that i will absolutely love. so i'll keep reading a few books per year - there's something soothing about slowly working one's way through a very long series😌

the realm of the elderlings by robin hobb (read books two and three: royal assassin and assassin's quest). the farseer books are the longest and (for the most part) the most boring books i have read this year. normally i don't torture myself like this but i wanted to do it for the fool and see how his relationship with fitz develops. was it worth it? i would say yes but only bc i let myself curate my own perfect reading experience and skimmed aggressively, sometimes skipping entire chapters. and i will do it again!👿 bc i will keep reading the elderlings books to see how the one million page yaoi plays out.

the only part of the farseer trilogy i really enjoyed was the second half of assassin's quest - not just bc fitz and the fool were cute and heart-wrenching together but bc of the entire unlikely fellowship on this quest. nighteyes is my favorite which is a feat on hobb's part bc normally i don't care about animal companions or am annoyed by them. kettle is iconic, always remember to take an auld woman on a quest (or she will chase you down and join despite your protests and prevarications). i hated starling but in a series where most characters provoke zero emotions that was a welcome change. kettricken was also there. their group dynamic was delightful and i wish the entirety of this series (or at least of this last book) was this slow burn psychological character study in close proximity group dynamics. but you can't always have what you want ig🤷‍♀️

what's next:

finishing the memoirs of lady trent - only one book in the main series is left and then there's also a spin off about her granddaughter, i think

rereading swordspoint which i first read back in 2020 and found underwhelming but it may just have been bc captive prince was such a hard act to follow for many gay books i tried back then. i hope i will like it more now that i can meet it halfway and if it goes well i want to complete the riverside trilogy right away

sometime this fall i'm gonna read pandora and vittorio the vampire. finishing the vampire chronicles is on my bookish bucket list and now, two whole years after i reread three of them to refresh my memory, i finally feel sane and brave enough to keep working towards that goal. so wish me luck🥲

finishing joanne harris' st oswald's series which started with one of my favorite dark academia novels gentlemen and players. i read the sequel last year and liked it a lot so now i want to read the final book a narrow door which also seems like a perfect autumnal read

the new evander mills mystery comes out in october and i'd like to read it before the year ends

2024 reading updates | goodreads

[laylanatorseventeen]

OK, so exactly noone asked for this but I have been reading a LOT of bioshock fanfiction lately and I think there are some real gems on ao3 that I’d like to bring attention to. So here they are, mixed with some more obviously popular ones---

Bioshock fic recs GO!!!!

ONE SHOTS--

--Found Is Lost and Lost Is Found by thewickedkat-- “What if there had been a Little Sister who hadn’t wanted to be rescued?” REALLY GOOD, but heed the trigger warnings in the tags!!!

--results, not causes by cheloniidae “Diane doesn’t need a pretty face to fight in the war.”

--they shake the mountains when they dance by coricomile-- “Around her, the splicers scream.”

--Just Put (Me) To Work by rataplani-- “A tribute to the nameless protagonists of the Protector Trials.”

--Chasing Shadows by cloudeme--  “ She is the first Big Sister, and will probably be the last. She knows she's different, but she doesn't care. She does her job... and hates.”

MULTICHAPTER--

-hey mister, don’t I know you? by presidenthomewrecker -- COMPLETE-- the one where Anna Culpepper runs Fort Frolic when you come through!!! a really great story that I really enjoyed. this author in general is worth checking out, they’ve written more than one awesome fic!!

-The Closing of Watchful Eyes by FOzziliZ3d-- COMPLETE--  “In which Mark Meltzer is saved by Subject Delta in Dionysus Park.”

-lay her i’ th’ earth by poppywine-- COMPLETE-- “ And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil—By telling the truth. Tell truth and shame the devil.”  Jasmine Jolene haunts Ryan’s bitch ass and it’s wonderful. 

-Watch Over Me by cakeisatruth-- COMPLETE-- “ Little Sisters can be cured in a matter of seconds, but it takes far longer for one to overcome everything she's been brainwashed to believe.” A really good fic from the perspective of a recovering Little Sister!! I especially love this fic. 

-Bei Mir Bist Du Sheon by poppywine-- WIP--  “ Brigid Tenenbaum has put the worst of Rapture behind her. That's the good news. The bad news is that a part of it is now standing on her porch.” As stated, this fic is still in progress, but the writing is wonderful, and I’m really excited to see where it goes!!

-With Friends Like These.... by gummysharksupremacy --WIP--- this one is actually about remorseful!Bad End Jack which I found intriguing from the start!! Basically he wakes up after the events of the game and is trying to make his way out of Rapture. Has some Infinite/BAS elements but I havent played either of those and it didn’t hinder my enjoyment of the fic. Honestly can be enjoyed as a standalone and is a really awesome fic!!

-Atonement for Bygone Sins by foorocks10-- WIP-- “Delta wakes in the ashes of failure. In the ashes of Rapture.Babylon has fallen. And yet Sophia Lamb seeks to build something greater and more terrible from Rapture's ashes.” I actually just discovered this one the other day!! 

-Here Comes the Sun by Riddle_of_the_sphinx --WIP-- “There are others I must help before this city drowns..... or, basically Delta decides that he’s going to save as many people as he can so they can see the sun.” This fic actually had me laughing out loud, Delta has such a sassy inner commentary. I’m excited to see where this one goes, as well!!

-There Is No Rapture by necroticboop-- WIP-- this fic is basically a fleshing out of Brigid Tenenbaum’s whole backstory and it is SOOOO GOOD omg. If you like Brigid please read this story and give the author some feedback because it is SO. GOOD.

-Underwater Eden by jadrea-- WIP-- “It is much to his surprise that Augustus Sinclair finds he's alive.” This one’s got MAPS and stuff like those really good fantasy books from middle school. Promising, I must say, LOL. 

-The Prodigal Son by malice-and-macarons-- WIP--”Atlas wakes up.Death, he thinks, would have been kinder.” I think this one is actually pretty popular amongst the Bioshock fanbase (small as it may be) but just in case you havent seen it, here it is!! 

Final note: I know we all love the instant gratification of already completed fic, and don’t like waiting for updates (I know, me too!) but I encourage anyone looking for something to read to give the WIP’s a try, and leave nice comments for the authors if you enjoyed the story! It’s hard to write when you feel like noone cares. If you want content, you have to validate the content creators!! 

All the fics on this list are awesome, and thanks to all the creators for producing and sharing these stories!!

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Teen and Up Rated Fics Masterlist (61)

Part 1- Part 58 / Part 59 / Part 60 /

Created: May 13th, 2024

Last Checked:—-

12 x 12-katnissdoesnotfollowback (ao3) Summary: After kissing a stranger at a holiday party, Katniss decides her life is in need of some drastic New Years resolutions. A Babysitter's Life-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: “It’s my lauded life to take care of you Mellarks.” In need of something new, Rue takes a job in District 12 for the Victors of the 74th Hunger Games. A Fish's Tale-loupee (ao3) Summary: One shot written for THG fairytale fic challenge. NOT based on the Little Mermaid but very loosely based on a traditional Cornish fairy tale "Lutey and the Mermaid", as told by Barbara Sleigh in "North of Nowhere" (which has a much happier ending!) A Frozen Sunset Moment-katnissdoesnotfollowback (ao3) Summary: Katniss is in District 13, Peeta is in the Capitol. Both struggle with nightmares and memories they wish to forget...or to keep. a legend's only a lonely boy-lovelee (ao3) Summary: Peeta knows he's getting weaker. Written for the prompt "You're dying a legend, darling" at the Girl on Fire ficathon. All That I Want-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: The sequel to “Falling in Love At a Coffee Shop”, but can be read as a standalone. Two years later, Peeta and Katniss return home for the closing of the infamous coffee shop where they first met. Snow-filled fluff. AU. and that has made all the difference-LastLeaf (ao3) Summary: Eighteen-year-old Cinna interns for one of the stylists in that year's Hunger Games. An Indigo Holiday-VanillaCottonCandy (ao3) Summary: "Since I somehow made the most beautiful and intelligent and spirited human being, somehow the dreary outlook I used to hold on this new post-war holiday has turned to excitement. Maybe it's the fact that eighteen years have passed since the war that stole my sister from me. Or maybe it's that I'm looking forward to who's here now, who's experiencing this holiday with me, who I get to share this day with and witness their enthusiasm. My daughter." / Katniss and Peeta celebrate a post-war holiday with their daughter and family. Post Mockingjay. Very soft sequel to Ripped Heart but reads the same as a stand-alone. A Quiet Morning-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Just when they thought they were done. Peeta and Katniss enjoy their last quiet morning after discovering they are going to be parents—again. Taken from the “All I Know” Universe. Baptism- JLaLa (ao3) Summary: “Katniss didn’t know if it was kismet or just plain bad luck but she and Peeta Mellark always found themselves on the opposite of a baptismal font, one of them holding a white clad infant and wondering which one of their idiot friends thought they would make good godparents.”