#of at some point/all the roles they could play are more or less filled

[crossedwithblue]

so what i want to know is why Quaggy hasn't yet turned up among the Thames girls

[undiscovered-horizon]

[The one where Sanji is jealous of the attention you're getting and he takes advantage of the effect he has on you.]

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The banquet has been going on for a good few hours now. All of the Straw Hats were surprisingly infallible in playing their roles to infiltrate the creme de la creme of pirates: Usopp and Nami, dressed as waiters, could befriend anyone into telling them something interesting. Luffy is taken for much stupider and thus less dangerous than he really is and some looser lips aren't afraid to spill a secret or two around him. Zoro and you are just supposed to be in the in the background, watching and listening. So far so good.

Sanji's mission is to listen in to the gossip that drunk sailors often like to exchange with bartenders but he has found himself in a terrible situation. On one hand, he couldn't blow his cover and start a fight. On the other, he is beyond done with the unsavoury comments about you the men drinking by the bar are exchanging. The only thing that curbs his burning jealousy is the knowledge that he's the only one to know the answers to their questions and speculations about your prowess in several private matters. Despite his fury, he can't really blame them. His own thoughts are escaping his grasp whenever he glances at your seemingly disinterested exterior, made all the more enticing in a long, red dress that belongs more to opera houses than bars frequented by pirates.

He's been scrubbing this one glass for a good five minutes. If he tightens his grip even just a little, the dish is bound to break into a thousand little pieces. Finally, he sets the champagne flute down and makes his way to the chattering men.

"Hate to be the joykiller, gentlemen," he speaks up casually, never giving away even a hint of his anger, "but she is not interested in you."

The three men look him up and down. Either they are ignorant to the concept of hygiene and sunscreen or they really are old enough to be your father. One of them gives him a contemptuous grin, uncovering a row of gold teeth.

"And what do you know, bar boy?" the pirate asks in a hoarse voice.

Sanji leans against the bar counter on his arms. "That rum you're drinking, Cruzan 9?" he nods his head towards the glasses with unfinished drinks. "She's more of a Caroni girl. A couple more zeros on the price tag, longer in the barrel, a rich bouquet of oak, caramel and berries." A charming, almost not arrogant, smile enters his face as he looks at the pirates with a look of superiority in his blue eyes. "Sophisticated palate for a sophisticated woman."

"Is that so?" The pirate leans towards Sanji. He's about to say something else but one of his drinking buddies stops him by putting an arm on his shoulder in a meaningful manner.

"How can you tell?" the other man asks. His voice is bright, filled with genuine curiosity. He hopes to learn something interesting about the mysterious beauty in red.

But Sanji isn't willing to share his secrets. "Comes with experience," he says in an interested voice. Then, to the pirates' dismay, he winks at them and goes back to wiping down his workplace.

"Gentlemen."

A familiar voice makes Sanji immediately look up from the counter he's been cleaning. With grace that only befits someone confident, you politely nod at the three men by the bar and make your way to Sanji. The pirates' eyes linger on you like the perceptive eyes of predators.

His hands move quickly and swiftly as he makes you a drink, knowing exactly what you opt for in similar circumstances - fake "bougie" parties that are insufferable while sober.

"King's Jubilee for my one true queen," he announces while sliding the cocktail glass towards you.

Looking at the drink, you purse your lips having noticed something.

"It's missing the cherry," you point out.

With faux humility, he places a hand over his heart. The heavy rings on his fingers shine slightly in the twilight of the open-air bar. "My most sincere apologies. If I may redeem myself, madam." He bows his head.

"Madam?" you repeat in confusion. "I thought I was a queen?"

Sanji chuckles in a low voice. Your wit and humour are only making you more beautiful in his eyes, always keeping up with his suave words and innuendos.

"I am but a humble servant, Your Highness," he drones the title.

The men sitting by the bar watch the scene with jealousy and fascination. It's beyond them how a bartender could one-up the most notorious of pirates but at the same time, they can't just look away from your flirtatious grin and the clear desire shining in your eyes.

Sanji takes one maraschino cherry out of the jar behind the counter and, holding it by the stem, offers the sweet treat to you. Leaning over the bar, you grab the dessert fruit with your teeth and pluck it from the stem, all the while studying Sanji's dark expression. He's thinking about something obscene, that's for sure.

Taking advantage of the short distance between you, he leans in to whisper something into your ear. The envious voyeurs can't hear his words over the loud music and laughter but they do see your sudden bashfulness. Your eyes momentarily cast down. Whatever that bartending boy has said, it made even a woman of your poise flustered.

Your breath hitches in your throat when Sanji places a soft kiss right below your ear, letting his warm lips brush against your jaw. Then, with weak knees and fuzzy thoughts, you take the drink and go back to your corner to continue meticulous observation of the more interesting guests.

Sanji meets the angered eyes of the proud, envious pirates. He doesn't seem to mind their hurt egos and the doom that it foretells. With a self-assured grin on his face, he asks them:

"Another round, my good gentlemen?"

[wanologic]

college au prequel: what happened to danny during junior year - 2940 words

Viscous green liquid sludges through a dry river bed, whetting the cracked ground and seeping deep into the void. Soil softens, becoming fat with nutrient. In the most basic definition, still itself, but filled with new matter, ready and accepting of more. This is what it was made for, its purpose. It has been sitting, dry and untended for too long. In this symbiosis it is more than it dreamed to be. Complete in the sense that it has been starved.

--

Danny wakes up, the dream lingering.

He’s been feeling odd lately, despite the fact that he is more comfortable in his skin than ever. He has a goal, he has support. 

A bridge, he called himself.

Even if he’s only sixteen and his influence is contextually small, he has time. People are listening. Ghosts are listening. Small steps over a long period will get you where you need to go, and he’s still just a kid. 

A kid who has to get ready for school.

He goes through the familiar motions, snags a quick breakfast and lets his parents know he’s headed out, that he’ll see them later. He’s out the door and on his way before he knows it.

Danny’s grades have improved since his freshman year. The pressure to keep things secret has all but alleviated and his family is sticking close. The world might not know that Fenton and Phantom are the same, but the people who matter do.

He’s managing. Thriving, even.

His extracurriculars are atypical of a high school junior, but he plays his role well. The Ghost Investigation Ward meets Phantom and the Fentons on neutral ground that evening, working their way methodically through a tangle of red tape. Teaching, learning. There’s always danger in compromise, but both parties are being two faced. It’s civil for now.

He’ll do this from the opposite angle on another day, playing border guard for the dimensional tear nestled into the fabric of his basement. Walker would be proud of him. He’s enforcing the Rules.

And it’s all going well as far as he can tell. Things are so much less chaotic than they were, his brawls feel like bonding, his head is no longer on a swivel.

For now, it’s off to his room. A space for himself to decompress after a long day's work.

He spends a lot of time thinking about a prehistoric past. What the future might look like once his job is over. This solid physical reality fed that swirling and infinite realm of emotion directly, once. It didn’t last, but time has passed. 

Danny is more aware of this fractured nature than most. He’s sure it’s why he’s had so much success. Why the responsibility falls on him. He feels it every time he calls upon his second self. 

And that’s what it is, isn’t it? Human first, ghost second. Humanity is the frame of reference he was born with. Everything new he experiences in this strange half-life is compared against it. Spectra once asked him what he was. But humanity is in his nature. He is a creepy boy with creepy powers. He’s sure of it. 

Going ghost.

Returning to humanity.

Not that he prefers one over the other. He’s made the choice. More than once. When his memories were erased or his powers short-circuited he always took them back. Felt the thrumming and euphoric energy pulsing through his being once again. His shape projected and unreal. Weightless. It feels incredible.

At some point, some late night discussion about feelings, whether it was with family or with friends, he realized his dual nature was more of a privilege than he could ever hope to fully comprehend. His human half feeds his ghost half everything. His ghost half is complete. No wonder he’s so determined, so strong. He has never once craved emotion the way the others have. He has intrinsic access to everything. Every failed test, every frustration, every joy, every thrill. He is comfortable and whole. Has no need to lash out. Two separate identities working together as two polar magnets, inseparable through the strength of their attraction, moving through the world as one.

He slips the familiar glowing rings across his body, the cool wash of ectoplasm coursing through his veins. Back again, blood pumps oxygen to his cells. Human. Ghost. Human. Ghost.

--

This time the dream is stranger.

The river craves the ocean. 

Danny feels the sand cake beneath his nails as he digs a trench, a violation of the river’s established bed. There’s a trickle as a thin and frothy stream flows out of sync with the current along the path he lays. It longs for the larger disconnected body ahead. A curious tendril seeking an easier path. He digs deeper, automatic, compelled by a force he doesn’t quite understand. 

Is this a bridge too?

He’s both excited and afraid to find out.

The liquid pools at his fingertips as fast as he can dig. Nudging. The sand is saturated and wet in front of him. He’s not sure how much further he has to go. But if he can claw his way through this dense barrier he’s sure it will pick up momentum even without him. The fluid mass can carve its own trench. Wider. Faster. Wider again.

He wakes up in a cold sweat. He somehow feels incorporeal. This isn’t right. He looks at his hands. His fingers in the dark. Clean. Spotless. He feels the sheets beneath his body, the press of the blanket above. So he’s still human then, wrong as it may seem. He clutches at his chest as he tries to calm his racing heart, quell the strength of an intense emotion that he cannot describe. It’s exhilarating. It’s terrifying.

He stops digging and fashions a dam, not yet ready for what the final connection could mean.

His head hurts.

Nausea tucks itself against his gut.

He takes a shower.

--

It’s Saturday and he has business in the Ghost Zone.

He shifts, expecting the weird feeling to subside. Instead it’s more of the same. Something is off. He ignores it. A thing to worry about later when he has less to do.

His work that day goes smoothly, another step in what he can only hope is the right direction. And it feels nice, giving in to the compulsion and focusing on what is in front of him, what is currently begging his attention, rather than the problems lurking beneath the surface. It is a learned behavior, one he falls back into easily.

Upon his return he feels like he is dragging a piece of the Infinite Realms back with him. The air seems to thicken, the cold steel walls of the portal are closing in on him. The exit is a pinpoint.  He’s being called back. He wants to move forward. He can feel silky fingers worm their way over his skin, hundreds of tendrils trying to pull him into their embrace. He stays strong. Moves with intent. The invisible hands can’t find enough purchase and he is finally welcomed back into the Physical World like the denizen he is. 

The caress stays with him much longer than he’s willing to admit.

--

Weeks go by and he only feels stranger and stranger. High. His attention slides off of everything so easily, his eyes blurring mid-conversation, a stuffy feeling, like a balloon that’s expanding well past the boundaries of his head. He loses time. Cancels appointments. He doesn’t feel well, sorry, he’s going to stay home today.

There is something Danny knows he needs to do. He can’t keep existing in limbo like this, his job only half-finished, pulled in two directions but choosing neither. His powers will wane once again in his indecision. His purpose sits unfulfilled.

He lays back and stares at the softly luminescent stars pasted to the ceiling of his room. Takes deep and even breaths as he struggles to remain present. His sister is worried for him, he’s sure. The best he can do for her is secretly practice what she has preached.

Danny eventually thinks back to that trickling stream. The slimy offshoot of the coursing river. He thinks of the dam he dreamed up all those weeks ago, sure it’s bigger now. His denial adds weight and height to the metaphor. Every day it feels less like a figment of his fucked up imagination and more like the worlds are trying to tell him something. What’s on the other side now, he wonders? Is the river still flowing? Are the fruits of his labor still there or has that little hand-clawed pathway dried up? How large is the reservoir pressing up against that sandy hill if it hasn’t?

He’s scared. 

He doesn’t want to know. 

But this isn’t what he promised himself.

A peek can’t hurt.

--

The dream comes easily, now that he lets it.

The funny thing about water is that it always finds a way. No matter what people do, how they try to tame it, erosion is inevitable. It starts as a dark wet splotch, the faint idea of a tiny breach in the all-but-permeable barrier between worlds—the river and the ocean. As the spot expands a dip forms on the horizon. The water moves. Under, through, over. Destructive. Alive. Danny shouldn’t have looked but he can’t stop what has already started. Equilibrium will be achieved one way or another. It was only ever a matter of time. He stands in the shallows, cowed as the wall comes down. Slowly first, then all at once.

The edges of panic are sharp and he realizes what is happening only a beat too late. 

The dam breaks.

He screams.

He was the dam, he is the trench, the rapid connection of energy flowing out of bounds and rushing along a new path. Lightning striking the rod to avoid burning down the house. The portal below him is a wound, a tear. He is something asked for, something natural. His mind can’t keep up as he struggles to regain ground and prevent being swept away by the violent current.

Dim awareness of his physical body comes back to him slowly as he writhes against the foreign dimension assaulting his senses. A second death. His double life was a conceptual marvel, a switch flipping from on to off, and back on again. He is the embodiment of two worlds, split, distinct. His quest to join them together requires this of him, doesn’t it? Whatever autonomy he has against the will of the universe cannot remain if he truly wants to serve his purpose. It’s a choice he has to make. One that he has been making. One that has been made.

He takes a deep and shuddering breath.

He tries to let go, and finds that he can’t. It’s like being electrocuted all over again, his nerves fried and his joints stuck rigid. It’s a feeling that is impossible to control, tense as he is.

His breath still comes ragged as colors around him saturate and the world warps. He can feel his fear, his desperation, feeding the momentum of whatever is happening. The exchange of emotion, osmosis through a rapidly deteriorating membrane. Thousands of overlapping inputs assault his mind as he feels the energy sliding around in the folds of his brain. He breathes through it. It’s not at all painful, but it is intense. His human points of reference aren’t working to help him conceptualize what is happening. His atoms are buzzing with newfound energy and the world is no longer solid. He tries once again to attempt the mindfulness ritual Jazz has been shoving down his throat, tries to name five things around him. The exercise fails him as he feels his brain liquefy in his skull. He gasps at the sloshing sensation, back arching. He’s going to be unmade.

Instead of loosening his grip, he tightens it. Remembering what it is to be human with all the force he can muster. His knuckles are white. Sweat slips down his brow. If he can’t let go, he has to hold on. He is gasping, thrashing. He’s hyperventilating, he’s sure, but no oxygen floods his system. He wants release, wants off this ride. The world outside of his perception ceases to exist. Flesh slips from his bones and it feels so, so good.

Then he sees it.

His eyes are blind, but he perceives it, somehow. The yawning void of the infinite realms is so much bigger, so much hungrier than he had ever thought. Reading that tablet, all that time ago, he thought his purpose was something simple. Easy in a way that a fourteen year old imagination could rationalize. The earth and the zone were two physical spaces that only needed to understand each other and hold hands to achieve that elusive harmony. 

He’d been wrong.

It’s not the earth that feeds the realms. Dimensions aren’t something that can be explained by an elementary understanding of mass and matter. They aren’t some static three dimensional points in time and space. They are universes of their own, expanding, interstitched in a nasty and sticky web of inexplicable physics folding over and back on themselves, forever too complicated to pry apart.

The realms are fed by the conscious universe perceiving itself, the soul, the spirit, whatever you want to call it. Emotions aren’t some grid of faces on a paper, they are infinite, they are cause and effect, the chicken and the egg, projecting forever in a möbius loop human understanding can never truly describe.

He’s going to go insane, he concludes. Here on his bed, on some random weekday, alone in his room. The magnetic pull of his two halves are phasing into each other, becoming imperceivable as the two separate forms he once knew. He’s not even sure that he really exists at this point. 

There is another choice to make.

He thinks back to what he knows about this buried history, Pariah Dark, The Ancients, wonders if they considered this connection, what they knew about how this should happen. Is there a way to do this that is objectively correct? If he knew more would it be easier? Or would it go down just the same? He has no desire to conquer. Only to be a bridge. A tether. An example. To show that this merging from two to one can be peaceful, a shift in perception rather than a violent overhaul. It is unavoidable now. His only wish is to remain recognizable as himself. 

He focuses not on his mind but on his body. He has to rebuild from the ground up or risk losing himself forever. Start small, a beating heart. Vascular systems. Skeletal. Muscular. Take a breath and pump blood into the empty cavern of his skull. Human is what he knows, though he’s never had to think about it quite this way before. His nerves lace through the structures he’s struggling to create, half intuition, half memory. It feels like being a ghost, all projection and thought, a deep and innate understanding. He knows this. He’s existed this way every moment of his short life and he can do it again. He’s alive, his blood is red, his flesh is tangible.

His brain slams back into his body and he promptly throws up.

--

The worlds are connected once again.

Danny’s hands shake as he tries to get a grip on himself. He’s been changed. He can feel it. The Infinite Realms has marked him as he has marked it. The world is flowing through and from him. Energy hums under his skin, and in it there is access to a well so deep he’s not sure it could ever run dry. 

He finally gets it. This is what being a bridge between worlds means for him.

He gets off his bed slowly. Half floating, half stumbling for balance. His instincts are scattered and his breath no longer sits in his body the same.

This change gives him the authority and the power, the perception and understanding to mend the bleeding fracture between dimensions. He will be listened to. He cannot be hurt. His appearance no longer matters, he is what he is, wholly and entirely. He exists as a linchpin. He is the keystone in the arch where one side is living and the other is dead.

Gravity feels so odd. Like someone changed the coefficient.

He sobs and grabs his dresser for support, woozy and unbalanced, a newborn deer walking on unfamiliar legs. He intends to make his way downstairs. Wants to fall into the embrace of his parents. Needs someone to hold him and tell him that everything will still be okay. He looks to the door.

And without moving, he is there.

Breath comes hard and fast as he steadies himself. His perception catching up to the new perspective. His hand is on the handle, he radiates a trail of semi-physical matter with every motion. It will take practice to appear normal again. He’s reminded of his freshman year.

When he finally opens the door, a swirling green wall is all that meets him. He stares at it, the cold vapor of the Realms slipping around and through him.

He knows the observants exist on the other side. He is sure of it as he is sure of anything. They are there to acknowledge the crown above his head. To observe what he has finally made of himself. 

He will tell him that he didn’t want this, didn’t ask for it.

They will tell him that he is lying.

He steps through the threshold.

[fanfic-wonderland]

Not Just Friends {Coriolanus Snow}

Synopsis: After your breakup with Felix Ravinstill, you go to Coriolanus Snow for help and comfort. When you ask him to go to the Winter's Ball with you so you can make your ex-boyfriend jealous, he's hesitant. He has his reasons...

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Read part two here.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you arrive at the Snow residence one chilly afternoon, bawling your eyes out, nearly everyone is immediately worried. Coryo’s grandmother does not stick around for long to listen to your problems, claiming that she’s tired and will lie in bed for a while. However, Coryo, who looks the most concerned, guides you to their dining table, sitting beside you while Tigris heads directly to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea. “What happened?” He asks immediately.

You try to quiet down your sobs, taking a few deep breaths before answering him. “You were right. Felix is a no-good jerk. I should’ve listened to you.”

Coryo’s eyes darken at the mention of Felix’s name. He’s never been fond of him, much less when you started dating him a few months ago. You thought that he was just playing the role of the overprotective best friend when you first told him that you and Felix started seeing each other, and that he was being ridiculous when he had said that Felix was “the worst option for a boyfriend”. If only you had listened to him back then, you wouldn’t be crying over a broken heart right now. “What did he do?” Coryo asks in a low dangerous tone.

“He—” You shake your head as more tears fall down your cheeks. Coryo takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and grabs your chin softly, wiping them away. “I found him making out with Arachne in one of the classrooms.”

Coryo stops his movements, a hard look on his face. You try not to lose it again after the words leave your mouth but the image is freshly imprinted in your mind. The way his hands were all over her, while she grabbed at his hair… and how their mouths devoured each other…

You snap out of your thoughts when Coryo suddenly stands up and begins heading to the door. “Where are you going?” you ask frantically, following him.

“I’m going to kill him,” He answers but does not stop walking. “And her. I’ll kill them both.”

“No, Coryo, wait!” You grab him by the arm and pull him back. He finally turns back to you; his eyes are practically flames at this point. “They’re not worth it. Just… stay here with me, please,” You practically beg him. You feel your voice on the verge of breaking, again. “Please. I need you here with me.”

Coryo’s expression softens at your words and your glossy eyes make him silently give in. His arms wrap protectively around your figure and your cheek is pressed against his chest. You cry some more while he holds you, and it makes you feel a tad bit better.

A few moments later, the three of you are back at the table while you’re sipping from the tea that Tigris had brewed for you. The crying has finally stopped; the tea and the company were a big comfort. “I do want to ask you a favor that doesn't require killing anyone,” I direct my words to Coryo, who is already looking at me.

“Anything,” he says.

You sigh. “I want you to come with me to the Winter’s Ball.”

Coryo groans. “Anything but that,”

“Oh, please, Coryo,” You plead, clasping your hands together. “Both of them will be there and I just know that they'll be fuming if they see us together. Felix always hated the idea of us together and I just want him to see that I—”

“(Y/N), I already told you that I'm not going—”

“I know what you said,” you cut him off. Coryo typically does not mind going to social gatherings but the Winter’s Ball is different. He’s not fond of attending a dance filled with students who love to flaunt their wealth through over-the-top gowns and suits he cannot afford. At least not for now. “But if you could just do this one thing for me I will be forever grateful. I'll even pay for your suit, I have no problem doing—”

“Don’t,” He warns you. “Do not try to bribe me with that.”

You lower your head when you realize that you've made him angry. “Sorry.”

Silence follows and it feels like it goes on for too long. “Coryo,” Tigris chimes in. “Maybe it could be a good thing that you go with (Y/N). Aside from helping her out, it could also be a nice way to get your mind off things. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately.”

He narrows his eyes at her but before he can say something else, you beat him to it. “No, It’s okay. It was a dumb and petty idea anyway. Maybe I should just endure it as it is,” I stand up. “I should get going now. Thanks for the tea, and for listening. I'll see you guys later.”

Tigris walks you to the door while Coryo stays seated, keeping his eyes away from you. Moments later, Tigris comes back with a frown on her face. “Would it be so bad for you to go to the Ball?” She asks him softly.

Coryo closes his eyes and sighs. “You know how I feel about these things, Tigris.”

“I know. But you'd be helping (Y/N) out,” She points out. “Coryo, she's your best friend. How many times has she helped you without asking for anything in return?”

Countless times. And Coryo is sure that you'll keep helping him for as long as you can. It's only one of the many things he loves about you. “Tigris, you don't understand,” Coryo takes a moment before he confesses. “It’s not just about the Winter’s Ball. The mere thought of helping (Y/N) to make that good-for-nothing Felix Ravinstill jealous is…”

Tigris observes her cousin, the pained look on his face as he talks about you and your ex-boyfriend, and her eyes widen in realization. “Oh,” Coryo looks down at his hands, unable to say much. He’s already said enough. “Were you planning on telling her?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not worth it. She clearly doesn’t feel the same way.”

She places her hand on top of his. “I know it looks that way now, but there’s no telling what she truly feels unless you talk to her. You guys have known each other for so long that there may be something unspoken on her part, as well.”

Coryo doesn’t know what to say to that but the thought of you reciprocating his feelings stirs something inside him. He shouldn’t give in to them —he needs all his focus shifted to his studies to stay top of his class— but Tigris’ words make him reconsider his priorities, whether that’s a good thing or not.

***

You regret coming to the Winter’s Ball by yourself.

Everyone you see in the room is either coupled up or chatting away with other people. The people from the Academy who you once considered your ‘friends’ have taken Felix’s side after you guys broke up— all except one, but he's not here, so you're left sitting at an empty table on your own.

You've spotted Felix and Arachne a few times already, dancing together, and you try to distract yourself with a plate of food and a few drinks, but It's hard to look away when he's kissing her as if you aren't there. As if you guys hadn't dated at all.

You really shouldn't have come.

The plate is not even halfway empty but you've already lost your appetite. Your head is spinning and your chest feels heavy; the best thing you can do is leave. No one will notice anyway. 

So you quickly stand up from your seat but when you turn to leave you almost run into someone had you not realized sooner. “Sorry,” you say before looking up at their face. You nearly stumble backward when you take in those familiar blue eyes. “Coryo! You’re here.”

“Where you just leaving?” Coryo asks.

You shrug. “I didn’t feel like being here by myself.”

“Well, you’re not anymore,” He offers you his hand. There’s a hint of a smile as he says, “Would you like to dance?”

You’re speechless for a moment, not truly believing that Coriolanus Snow, one of the most persistent people you’ve ever met, is attending the Winter’s Ball with you. You almost pinch yourself to make sure that you’re not dreaming. The only thing you can do is nod and place your hand in his, and then he guides you to where everyone else is already dancing. People begin to turn their heads in your direction; some smile (at Coryo), some glare (at you), and some whisper to the person next to them, but you find that you don’t care. 

That is until you reach the center of the dancefloor and catch Felix and Arachne watching the both of you closely. His blazing stare almost succeeds in making you crumble, but you're brought back to reality when you feel Coryo’s thumb softly grazing the back of your hand. “Don’t pay attention to them,” He says close to your ear. You notice that he's smirking proudly at them and maybe that's the reason why Felix looks like he wants to kill someone. He's always had this crazy idea that you and Coryo were going behind his back, so this must feel like a slap in the face to him. You try to brush those thoughts aside and focus on the feeling of Coryo’s hand holding yours, how it makes you feel so warm inside.

The both of you turn to each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you close by the waist. Your bodies begin to sway to the music naturally; it feels like you guys aren’t just pretending. The other students certainly seem to believe so, seeing how, unlike when you first arrived, everyone’s attention is fully on both of you. After a few moments of dancing, you start to forget where you are, and it feels like It’s just you and him in the room. He makes you feel that way effortlessly just by the way he’s looking at you, and only you. It’s like nothing else matters to him in this one moment.

You only break eye contact with him when you’re suddenly spun around by someone behind you. “I knew it,” Felix spits his words out like they're venomous. “How convenient that right after we break up you’re here with none other than the guy you’ve always denied being involved with.”

You fold your arms across your chest, scowling up at him. At that moment, you beat yourself up for crying over a guy like him. “I've always been truthful. I never went behind your back. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for you.”

“You act like you're so innocent, right?” Felix scoffs. “You always said nothing was going on between you and Snow but here you are throwing yourself at him in front of everyone.”

Your blood begins to boil. Before you can say anything else, Coryo steps in front of you. “Watch your mouth, Ravinstill,” He warns. “I’d think carefully about what to say if I were you.”

Felix laughs dryly. “This doesn't concern you, Snow.”

“It does because she's with me tonight and I won't tolerate you addressing her like that.” 

Coryo steps closer to Felix, practically hovering above him. Although Felix is slightly shorter, he doesn't seem the least bit intimidated. “Right. Figured you would play hero and jump right into defending your little whore from—”

Coryo’s fist meets Felix’s face before he can finish talking, sending him straight to the ground. Everyone who is watching the scene gasps in horror. Once he recovers, Felix manages to connect a punch to Coryo’s jaw, but it will take more than that to take him down. Coryo’s much stronger than him— and much angrier.

You call out Coryo’s name in panic, trying to get him to stop, but he keeps grabbing at Felix and punching him numerous times until his knuckles are stained with Felix’s blood. You begin to think that he might kill him. “Coryo, stop!” You cry out again, trying to hold him back by the arm.

He finally listens but his attention is still on Felix, who is lying on the floor and whose face is more than messed up now. A few students try to help him out and you take that opportunity to drag Coryo outside.

You figure he needs some fresh air. You know you certainly do. So both of you walk around the Academy grounds for a bit, arms linked with each other and neither of you saying anything until you find a bench right across from the fountain and you sit down. By the time you do, Coryo has calmed down a bit, although he still looks shaken up. You notice the bruise starting to form across his jaw, and you have a sudden urge to run your fingers through it, to do everything you can to make it go away. 

Coryo catches you looking. “It doesn't hurt much,” He reassures you. “You probably hit harder than him.”

You chuckle, too exhausted to pretend to be offended. “Are you alright, though?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“I think so,” You nod, fiddling with your fingers.

You break away from his gaze but you can still feel him staring. “Hey,” he places a hand on your cheek to get you to look back at him. “Nothing that he said is true, and I hope you know that.”

A fluttering feeling forms in your stomach. His eyes have always been your weakness.

“I know that, It’s just…” You shake your head. “I feel like all of this is my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to come with me, because clearly, it was a horrible plan. And now I probably fucked things up for you— your reputation might be deeply affected now that you beat up the president’s son.”

Coryo doesn't say anything. His lips remain a thin line on his gorgeous face. “I should really start listening to you from now on, huh?” You try to joke.

You guess it works as Coryo smiles faintly. “I think that's the best idea you’ve had so far,” he agrees. “But I could care less about my image right now. He deserved that—no, worse. No one talks about you like that and gets away with it. Not if I can help it.”

His words make your insides jump. You try to control it because since when does Coryo have such an effect on you? Your relationship has always been nothing but platonic. “The thought of you hurting over a guy like him pains me so much because he doesn't deserve you. Fuck, even I don't deserve you, but I would never, ever do something to hurt you like that,” You swear he’s leaning his face closer to yours. “You're the most important thing to me, (Y/N). You’re so precious and I don’t think you see just how much. But I do. I’ve always seen it.”

You gape at him. “Coryo…”

You were not expecting him to say something like that. Coriolanus Snow has always been far from the romantic type. Charming, absolutely, but you have never heard him express any desire to be romantically involved with someone, let alone yourself. You don’t know how to answer to him. “You don’t have to say anything right now,” He tells you. “I just needed you to know how much you truly mean to me.”

And then he stands up and walks away, leaving you cold, confused, and alone with your thoughts.

[holylulusworld]

BFG (2)

Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…

Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: size kink, flirty reader, objectification of Reacher, language, violence, flirting

A/N: Please consider, that I do not follow the exact storyline of season one. Some characters known from the show may appear.

Catch up here: BFG (1)

BFG masterlist

Reacher made himself scarce over the following days. If not for the missing pie in your fridge and the fixed sink, you’d believe Reacher didn’t come to your home at all.

You don’t know what kind of business he has to take care of in your sleepy town, and you don’t want to know. He’s the kind of person you don’t ask too many questions. 

“Morning,” you chirp when you walk in on Reacher wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He emptied the rest of your orange juice, drinking right out of the carton.

“Morning,” he looks at you when you pass him by to look in the fridge. “I drank your orange juice and ate the leftovers. I’ll pay you back.”

“Nah, I’m glad you ate the lasagna,” you say while poking your head inside the fridge. “It’s great to have someone around who can eat. A big man needs a lot of food.”

“Uh-thanks,” he grins as you bend a little to look for the eggs. You stick your ass out, offering a perfect view of your ass to Reacher. “I took care of the sink in the kitchen, and I’ll have a look at the heater upstairs.”

“You earned your stay already.” You place the eggs on the counter. “Do you want to have breakfast before you go? I bet you didn’t get any food last night. No wonder you had to eat the leftovers.”

“I came back late and didn’t find the time to grab food,” he dips his head to watch you grab a pan. “I wouldn’t say no to eggs.”

“How about pancakes, eggs, and bacon,” you smirk. Reacher subconsciously licks his lips. He hums and drops his eyes to the eggs. “As long as you are around, I’ll make sure you eat well. I can’t have you starving.”

He laughs. A heartfelt laughter fills the room as you join him. It’s been a while since you felt comfortable enough around a man to be just you. 

That’s why you’re single at the moment. You hate playing a role and acting like you are a different person only because a man doesn’t like your attitude or personality. 

You are who you are. Nothing less and nothing more.

“You think I’m starving?” He challenges. 

“A man must eat to stay as big and tall as you,” you point out while unashamedly looking him up and down. “Now, pancakes yes or no?”

“I won’t say no to some pancakes and eggs…and bacon. Can I help you? I’m not a great cook, but I know a few tricks.”

“I bet you do,” you coo, and smirk. This man is a force of nature, and you try to show him that you can hold up with him. “What do you have up your sleeve, Mr. Reacher?”

Cocking your head, you watch him wipe his hand on his shirt. 

“Just Reacher, mom called me that too,” he says. “And she taught me a thing or two when it comes to cooking.” He reaches for the eggs. “I can prepare the pancakes if you want me to.”

“Your mom,” you hum. “I learned baking and cooking from granny and my mom.”

“Your door needs fixing too,” he casually says while cracking the eggs. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

“Oh?” you quirk a brow. “What’s wrong with my door?”

He sighs, long and a little exasperated. “It’s not safe. Anyone could break in and steal your leftovers,” his features darken, and he squares his jaw, “or worse.”

“I got a nice baseball bat I’m burning to test on someone’s face,” you grin, but your smile fades when he shakes his head. “What? I’m not some damsel in distress.”

“I know you are not but,” he places his hand on top of yours, “there are people out there stronger than you. Maybe even stronger than me.”

You glance at Reacher. Maybe he’s not wrong. This sleepy town used to be a safe and friendly place, but things changed.

“Okay,” you agree. “This town isn’t as safe as it used to be. If you have any suggestions, tell me. I’ll buy all you’ll need.”

Reacher and you work in silence, preparing breakfast for the two of you. You glance at him from time to time, wondering about his plans for this town. He came here for a reason. You only hope he stays a little longer than a few days…

“Coffee, black,” a familiar voice barks at Sally Ann. It could’ve been a nice day, but now it’s ruined. “Chop, chop! I don’t have all day. Move your ass.”

“A good morning to you too,” you glare at the unwelcome guest. Kliner jr. - a slimy bastard you can’t stand. He believes only because his daddy has more money than his spoiled son can count that he’s better than the other people in town. “What can we bring you today?”

“Coffee, black,” his tone doesn’t change, only the way he stares at you. He cocks his head to watch you turn around to get a cup for him. “You still got that juicy ass, huh? Did anyone already fuck it? Damn, I bet—”

His voice dies, and you hear something slam onto the counter. You assume he slammed his fist down. 

You twirl around to show him the way out only to watch Reacher press Kliner Jr.’s head to the counter.

He squares his jaw and lifts his hand only to slam the bastard’s head down onto the counter again.

“No one disrespects this lady in her diner or elsewhere,” Reacher whispers in Kliner Jr.’s ear. “I want you to nod if you understood what I said.”

“Do you know who my father is?” Kliner Jr. spats. He tries to act all tough, but it takes anything in him to not wet his pants. This beast of a man holds his head pinned to the counter and he’s got no clue how to free himself. “He’ll … he’ll…”

“He will do shit boy,” you snap at Kliner Jr. “Now get out of my diner or I will let you arrest for harassment.”

“Bitch!”

Reacher grabs Kliner Jr. but his neck, ready to slam him onto the counter again. “I want you to apologize to this lady. And you better mean it.”

“Fuck you!”

“Reacher. Stop.” You shake your head. “I’d like to tell you that he got the message, but he didn’t. He’s one of these guys who need a kick in the balls to leave a woman alone. I just don’t think anything will fix the mess in his head.”

Reacher looks you straight in the eyes, silently asking you if you want him to hurt Kliner Jr. even more. “You will get out of the diner and never come back. If I hear about you harassing her again, you will wish that you were never born.”

He releases Kliner Jr. and pushes him toward the door. “You are banned from the diner. Never come back.” You yell after him.

“Your coffee tastes like sweat either way,” Kliner Jr. spats while spitting blood onto the floor. “You fucked with the wrong guy.”

“You wish,” you snap and get your baseball bat out from under the counter. “You should be thankful he took care of you, not me. Betsy my bat would’ve made sure that you’ll never have a Kliner Jr.”

“You didn’t lie about that bat,” Reacher points at the baseball bat on the counter. “I knew you were trouble.”

“I could say the same about you.” You both chuckle at your flirty banter. “How about I give you a slice of pie for your help, sweetie.”

“That pet name sticks, huh?” He plops down on his seat. “Do you want me to wipe the counter?” Reacher looks at the blood on the counter. “I can clean up.”

“You handled the bastard, I can handle a little blood,” you wink at Reacher. “What do you want? Cherry, apple, or peach.”

“You know my taste.” 

“I see you are already working on my door,” you duck under Reacher’s arm to enter your house. “You know, I wanted to pay for the things you’ll need to make it safer.”

“I got it handled,” he shrugs and goes back to work. It looks like he is trying to protect the crown jewels or something. “I bought orange juice too.”

“Well, if you are done for today,” you lean against the wall next to Reacher, “I’ll make you something for dinner.”

He looks at you and smirks. “I’d like that. I’m almost finished.”

“I’ll be waiting for you in the kitchen. I got a beer for you too.”

You walk toward the kitchen, swaying your hips as you feel his eyes on you.

Smiling to yourself you decide to not let this man slip through your fingers.

Part 3

BFG Tags

@xxyaoi-nationxx, @lovestoreadfiction, @glambyk, @sonicthehedgedoggo, @thewitchesofart, @emily-roberts, @littlelearningbrat, @mcira

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Said I was not gonna make Dune Messiah predictions but here I am making Dune Messiah predictions. Because I've been thinking about how smartly Part Two used all the characters around Paul to embody the different forces pulling on him, and I wouldn't be surprised if we see a similar thing in Dune Messiah.

I think Irulan's role will be more or less the same as in the book--she'll be plotting against him. She represents the interests of the Bene Gesserit and the other Great Houses--all the various other imperialist powers that Paul pissed off by upending their carefully laid plans.

Chani will definitely be there but she will not have spent the intervening years with Paul. It's much more of a punch in the feels for her to pop up as a plot twist partway through the story and for us to see their reunion happen in real time. I've seen some predictions that try to like...bend Paul and Chani's relationship back into a shape approximating what's in the book and I am saying now that that ain't gonna happen. Spending years hanging around the imperial palace trying to get pregnant and soothing your dictator bf's existential angst makes no fucking sense for movie Chani. She will be organizing against him. If she "forgives" him and spends any amount of time with him it'll be a ruse in order to spy on him or something like that. I think it would be a great source of internal conflict for her to discover along the way that she still harbors some compassion for Paul as a person, but there is no way she will compromise her political principles; that is the bedrock of her character. She will serve much the same role as she did in Part Two: she gives voice to Paul's conscience, his better instincts, and the interests of the Fremen independent of what various imperial powers want from them.

The twins will still be born, because that is central to why Paul does what he does at the end of the story, and that is part of "leaving the door open" for any fool who might take a crack at directing Children of Dune. (I think Children of Dune can work just fine as a movie but anyone who does it will be Not Denis and therefore setting themselves a formidable task.) But like...Paul and Chani only have to have sex once for that to happen.

The role that Chani plays for a large chunk of the book, of being Paul's loyal confidante and the person he allows himself to be most human around? That role is gonna be filled by Alia.

Alia...doesn't really have a lot to do, plot-wise, in the book of Dune Messiah, and this is the perfect place to put her. She is the only person in the Known Universe who maybe sort of a little bit understands what Paul's experience of reality is like now. She's the perfect conduit to voice all the philosophical stuff about prescience that's in the book but hard to work into casual dialogue. The book is full of people saying stuff about how Paul and Alia are so close they seem like two halves of the same person but we don't really see it that much on the page, and this is the perfect chance to add that stuff in. (I could very much see them borrowing not necessarily the actual plot points but some of the weird incesty vibes from the Children of Dune era.) I wouldn't be so surprised if some of the moments that happen between Paul and Chani in the book get handed off to Alia (blind ornithopter ride maybe??) and Chani gets a whole new storyline, independent of Paul, that's not in the book at all.

It kinda fits with the rhythm of the films, too. In Part One Paul's most important interpersonal relationship is with Jessica. In Part Two, he's in conflict with Jessica and his most important relationship is with Chani. In Messiah, I think he'll be in conflict with Chani and his most central relationship will be with Alia. (And ghola!Duncan probably, but I think that will be another surprise reveal that happens later in the story.) And at the end of Messiah, he won't end up in conflict with Alia exactly. But he will leave her behind.

[atamascolily]

Given how tightly plotted previously installments have been, I have to admit I was caught off guard by the seeming introduction of new characters in the Walpurgis no Kaiten trailer. However, on reflection (heh), it makes sense if one of the themes of the movie is indeed opposites/doubling/mirroring. After all, if Homura has a double for a narrative foil, why shouldn't the rest of the main cast have one, too? Prior to the second trailer, I had assumed this role would be filled by the "new girl" in the first trailer, who appears to be a Homura/Mami/Madoka hybrid, but it seems that's just the tip of the iceberg.

That said, it's also clear to me from the second trailer that this mirroring, if that's what's really going on here, isn't going to always literal as it is with Homura. The girl paired with Nagisa in the ball pit in the second trailer doesn't look exactly the same as Nagisa, but it's clear from the framing that the two of them are being deliberately juxtaposed, and will likely serve as narrative foils to each other. My guess is that this girl is the humanized form of Nagisa's witch Charlotte, just like I think that the most likely candidate for Homura's double is her witch Homulilly, (because the metaphorical almost always becomes literal in this series, even though the movie may or may not name them directly as such), but my point stands regardless of their exact relationship to each other.

If that's the case, then who in the Holy Quintet is the counterpart for the other new character--the green-haired girl in the trailer?

The obvious answer is "Mami"--partly because of the tea party and general vibes, and partly because of the color scheme (green and yellow go well together and the girl has golden eyes like Mami's). This is especially true if fan theories are right and this girl is the humanized form of Gertrud the Rose Witch, whom Mami faces off against in episode 1-2 of the original series, and who serves as a deliberate counterpoint to Mami there.

Having a more human Gertrud as foil to Mami would make sense because unlike Homura and Nagisa, Mami never becomes a witch in the original series; while she does have a witch form in the PSP game and other spinoff media, I think we are unlikely to see it in this installment and thus her most likely counterpoint would then be Gertrud. Gertrud's familiars are also visible in Homura's new world at the end of Rebellion, suggesting she might turn up in some fashion in Walpurgis no Kaiten.

(This also raises the interesting question of whether Mami's VA would voice this character or not. Considering that Kaori Mizuhashi also voiced Walpurgisnacht and Tatsuya in the original series, it's not impossible than she and/or other voice actors might play one or more roles in this new installment. As a bonus, this would also mean that SHAFT could get away with not announcing the minor roles before the release, as they would probably have to if they were adding completely new voice actors to the cast. Until we get more news, I'm assuming that Chiwa Saito is voicing both Homuras, though everything else is more speculative.)

However, it occurred to me that based on her ponytail and her position in this shot, she could also be Kyouko's foil (red and green being opposing colors); this is less likely, but I figured I'd mention it as a possibility anyway, since the second trailer appears to be leaning heavily into Rebellion parallels. TBD. Like Mami, Kyouko doesn't have a witch form in the original series, so her most likely parallel is another established witch character, although nobody from the original series immediately leaps to mind.

(By the way, this would mean there are more new characters--or new versions of established characters--we haven't seen yet, so, uh, hold that thought.)

After that, it gets a little more complex and murky. Sayaka's most likely foil should be her witch Oktavia, but it's unclear to me from what we've seen so far how much that particular conflict manifests internally or externally. I think Sayaka is going to be extremely conflicted in Walpurgis no Kaiten, and it will be interesting to see how her arc develops. Based on the original series, however, I would say that the other logical witch counterpart for her is Elsa Maria the Shadow Witch, whose labyrinth mirrors Sayaka's black and white thinking during a particularly dark period for her, though I suppose H.N. Elly the Box Witch who attacks Madoka in Episode 4 is also a possibility.

Madoka also has a witch form, Kriemhild Gretchen, who is absorbed into the Law of Cycles, though I think her foil is most likely the Law of Cycles itself. We'll have to see.

You may have noticed that I am limiting myself solely to witches from the original series rather than spinoff media. The first reason is that I'm skeptical that SHAFT would bring in a witch that general audiences who have only followed the main series have never seen before (except for maybe a brief cameo). The second reason is that the Law of Cycles' motif in Rebellion explicitly shows only those witches from the original series, and we see only a select group of these witches and/or their familiars during the battle against Homulilly's familiars.

All these witches are potentially fair game to appear in WnK, making nine in all, though I doubt more than a handful would have more than a few lines, let alone a major role. Also this diagram does not appear to incorporate Walpurgisnacht unless she turns out to be the Law of Cycles after all.

Somehow, I can't imagine SHAFT pivoting in mid-stream to bring up something completely new or even a more obscure witch from another spinoff, especially when so much of the main series focused on reliving and re-experiencing the same events over and over again. Sorry, fans of the Madoka PSP and slot machine games, I think you're destined to be disappointed in your wish to see any of those game-only witches on the big screen, but I suppose we'll see.

This is all just speculation for now, but I'm excited and intrigued to see where this goes!

[stqr-grl]

╭﹕🍃｡♡・loser

୨୧⸝⸝﹕synopsis — rin is such a nasty and you have not the slightest clue.﹐

୨୧⸝⸝﹕warnings — f!reader, pervy + loserboy!rin, semipublic(?) masturbation[bathroom], all characters are 18+, not proofread n a bit messy, mdni!﹐

୨୧⸝⸝﹕notes — i feel that this v much strayed from the original concept of loserboy!rin but you know what im not mad at it.﹐

before he met you rin was always great at masking how much of a little creep that he was. always able to maintain his cool around a girl that peaked his interest, never struggling to to keep his hands to himself or make sure that his eyes never lingered to long where they weren’t supposed to but with you it was different- so so different.

with you there was always an unspoken power that you held against him, always able to make him come undone with the tiniest of things such as sitting with him in the couch, thigh pressed against his and tits being all too visible in that tiny tank top that your nipples had no problem poking through.

despite never actually touching a woman —little the less touching you— his head filled with thoughts of how could he could make you feel- thoughts him taking the hardened bud into his mouth, sucking it intently while his digits stuff your crying cunt full as you cry at the sensation, pulling on his dark colored locks, begging for more of him as your pussy formed a white ring around his fingers.

god the thought alone has his cock straining against his pants, the pretty head of it already leaking in his shorts. he excuses himself from your presence so that he can go to the bathroom to jerk one out with you just in the next room.

with his lip stuck between his teeth, drool running from the corner of his mouth as he imagines that the fist wrapped tightly around his sensitive cock was your warm, glossy mouth licking on the most sensitive glands of his cock while your hand worked the base, a needy groan coming from his chest.

oh but he can only dream of having his hands on you —or rather you having your hands on him— as his hot, sticky release spills from his tip and into the counter that he was gripping so tightly. with tears from the amount of need rolling down his cheeks and clinging to his pretty lashes he cleans his mess, steadying his breathing and thinking.

he knows at some point his hand just won’t be enough for him, he knows at some point he’ll need more than, maybe he’ll steal a pair of panties fresh with your scent to suffice untik hemd able to work up the nerve to ask you to be his girlfriend but until that day comes he’ll just have to settle for what he can get while playing the role of your best friend.

[adrealucia]

If it's not weird, could you possibly write something about Sean dating someone with multiple younger siblings and very much relates to him on being the oldest with a bit of an age gap!

Maybe they never really mentioned their siblings much besides a few mentions and Sean finally meets them...

ahhh this request was just sooo cute i love it 😭😭 hope you enjoy reading <3

Meet the kids

Sean had always known you were special. Your kindness, your strength, and your wisdom beyond your years had always intrigued him. However, there was one aspect of your life that remained somewhat of a mystery: your family.

You had mentioned them in passing—a younger brother’s soccer game here, a sister’s school project there—but you never went into much detail. Sean, the oldest sibling in his own family with just one younger brother, often wondered about your role in your larger family dynamic.

One Friday evening, you invited him to your family’s house for the first time. He could sense a mix of excitement and nerves in your voice when you extended the invitation, and that made him even more eager to meet the people who meant so much to you.

As you pulled into the driveway of a cozy, bustling home, the sounds of laughter and playful shouts greeted you. You hadn’t even opened the car door when a whirlwind of activity surrounded you both. A boy, no older than eight, dashed towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Hey, squirt!" you greeted him, ruffling his hair. "This is Sean."

The boy eyed Sean with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "Hi," he said cautiously.

Sean crouched down to the boy's level. "Hey, buddy. Nice to meet you. What’s your name?"

The boy’s face lit up. "I'm Jake. Do you play soccer?"

Sean grinned. "I do. Maybe you can show me some moves later?"

Jake’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he nodded vigorously. One by one, the rest of your siblings emerged from the house. There was Emma, a teenager just starting to find her own path, and the twins, Lily and Liam, who were a bundle of energy and mischief. Lastly, there was baby Grace, toddling over with a shy smile, clutching a stuffed animal.

Throughout the evening, Sean watched in amazement as you seamlessly managed your siblings. You effortlessly switched from playing soccer with Jake to helping Emma with her homework, to calming the twins after a small disagreement, and finally, tenderly rocking Grace to sleep. It was clear that you were more than just a sibling to them—you were their rock, their guide, and, in many ways, their second mother.

At one point, while you were inside grabbing snacks, Emma approached Sean. "You know, she doesn’t bring just anyone around," she said matter-of-factly.

Sean smiled, touched by the implication. "I’m glad she did. You all seem like a lot of fun."

Emma nodded. "We are. And we’re protective of her, just so you know."

Sean chuckled. "I’d expect nothing less."

As the night went on, Sean found himself feeling a sense of admiration and awe. He had always known you were amazing, but seeing you in this environment, handling everything with such grace and love, deepened his appreciation for you.

On the drive back, Sean couldn’t help but voice his thoughts. "You’re incredible, you know that?"

You glanced at him, a bit surprised. "What do you mean?"

"The way you handle everything. Your siblings, the chaos, the love. You’re like their second mother," he said, his voice filled with admiration.

You smiled, a bit shyly. "I guess I’ve had to be. Our parents work a lot, so I’ve always taken on a lot of responsibility."

Sean reached over and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "They’re lucky to have you. And so am I."

You squeezed his hand back, eyes filled with gratitude. "Thanks, Sean. It means a lot that you see that."

He leaned in and kissed your forehead softly. "I see everything. And I’m here for it all."

As the car continued down the road, you both knew this was just the beginning of many more family-filled adventures. And Sean couldn’t wait to be a part of it all.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Old love never rusts. Mihawk has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]

Mihawk's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Mihawk wants the entire conversation to end before it has even started. He's aware that his heartache and anger are bound to get the better of him. Not to mention Shanks, who will surely gloat and boast beyond tastefulness. Although Mihawk can't exactly blame Shanks for his pride - the Warlord knows that he'd behave identically, if not worse, were their roles reversed.

Shanks knows what's on Mihawk's mind. he can read it on his face, in the sombre gloom that clouds his yellow eyes. Still, the red-haired captain patiently waits for the swordsman to break on his own. It will happen soon enough as the matter of you is the only subject that rids Mihawk of his self-control. He may be a great man, in more ways than one but when it comes to the insatiable love seems unable to let go, the Warlord becomes a young boy at heart, always seeking assurance that his affections are returned. Or not outright rejected, at least. Alas, the consequences of his own selfish actions have finally caught up to him and Mihawk must face the truth - this love is never going to be returned.

"How is she?" Mihawk asks reluctantly. He hates to give Shanks the satisfaction but the famished desire of his heart is a lot stronger than his iron will and pride. "You know of whom I speak."

Shanks gives him a mocking smile, a devilish flame appearing in his brown eyes.

"I also know you have no right to ask that, hawk-eyes," he answers. "Not when you treated her like a backup option."

"I never-" Mihawk hangs his voice. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. Agitated negation will only further prove the captain's point. Truth be told, deep inside Mihawk knows that Shanks is right. He did treat as someone who would always be there, waiting for him until he came back from his escapades. Until you grew tired; until you didn't. "Where is she?" he asks angrily. But what he really wants to ask is 'If you're here, who's taking care of her? Who's looking after the one you promised to keep safe and happy?'

"Home with the kids," Shanks retorts casually. Despite his light-hearted tone, there's a hint of something mischievous between his words.

Mihawk feels disgusted. The thought that Shanks got to know you intimately and built a familial life with you fills him with rage so visceral he'd rather claw his own eyes out than think about it. And that red-haired poor excuse of a husband probably considers himself good enough for you.

Laughable, if it wasn't so sad.

"I suppose I should wish you well," Mihawk begrudgingly murmurs. Once again, his words do not quite reflect his actual thoughts. He wishes you well but couldn't care less about Shanks's well-being. Mihawk already knows for a fact that the red-haired captain is incapable of taking care of you properly so it would really be mercy if Shanks had a little accident and Dracule could play the magnificent role of a consoling party.

"You should." Shanks nods. "But I know you won't." He lets out a bitter chuckle. He's disillusioned about Mihawk's perpetual heartbreak. Some part of him still pities the Warlord. After all, how awful must be the torment that can haunt someone like him for a good decade?

"Yes, I won't," Dracule drones his words. There is jealousy, there is envy and then there is the horrible sensation that has been eating him up for the past ten years, slowly turning the man into a bitter, brutal husk of a person. And he shall never find it in him to wish Shanks well after he had shamelessly taken the person the closest to his heart.

Turning on his heel, Mihawk marches away from Shanks. He knows that if he spends another minute around the red-haired man, he will do something he might regret.

He could be a mighty Warlord, the greatest swordsman alive and, perhaps ever - truly a someone. Alas, as a wise man once said: You're nobody until somebody loves you. And everyday of his life, each time he wakes up to a cold bed and a house drowned in deafening silence, Mihawk is reminded that he is less than nobody. For it was his own grandiosity that had ridded him of the person he cares about the most.

Dracule's gnawing loneliness is accompanied only by his own thoughts, only by the rumination of his utmost failure. 'It didn't have to be like this', he reminds himself on the nights when he can't fall asleep, 'You could have had everything'.

[livesworthlivingau]

Behind the Vale Chapters 2-4

Decided to combine these 3 chapters because they'd be especially short from Loop's perspective, and I REALLY wanna get to some stuff shortly after this. Be sure to read the other 3 chapters first! (or maybe bounce between them if you want?) Spoilers for ISAT below! CW: Spiraling mental state

"You had me worried there Sif, but I guess it makes sense you'd be in such a rush. Glad to see you again Loop!"

"Yes! We never got to tell you thanks for helping us out yesterday!" [Pity... It's all just pity... You failed them, the original them... The real them.]

[All you can do now is put on your silly little mask and continue your performance, the show must go on after all.]

"... Well then splendid~! If you're all so eager to have me along, how could I refuse~?"

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[It was so easy, so blinding easy to fit in, to fill the little gaps of Stardust's perfect little family, to follow along with this whole mockery of your life, this spin off, this cheap imitation... You've gotten so good at pretending you hardly know how to do anything else at this point. That damned Fighter though... So kind, so sweet. he almost feels real, unlike the rest of them. So much so you stop feeling the need to pretend around him... until Stardust finally notices.]

(Oh... OH!... Oooooooooooooh.....)

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"Do you get it now Stardust?! Do you see why this was a bad idea?!"[You've gotten too close now. Stardust just had to invite you into his little life to make himself feel better. He just couldn't take the thought of you feeling sad all by yourself. You're just a sad, kicked puppy to them, too weak and pathetic to be left alone... He'd even give up his own love just so won't have to stomach that endless pity!]

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Where's Loop? They shouldn't miss dinner!... Wait... Can Loop actually eat food?" [You just watch through your little connection with Stardust. You couldn't control yourself around them at the moment, not after your discussion. You need some time away to recover your role, sitting up in a large tree. It was an off comfort, a small bit of familiarity in this whole changing play. You shake off the vision for a moment, keeping your eyes closed and gripping your knife, shearing it across a piece of wood to whittle away at it. You mumble that familiar little mantra under your breath as you do. Your mind races with memories now, so faint and distant, lost to countless loops, but they try to return none the less. Visions of your Fighter, Researcher, Housemaiden, Fighter, Kid, Figh-... Isabeau... He wanted to tell you something... that's the last thing you can remember about him, the real him. You never got to hear it, and now you never will... You hear a snap, opening your eyes and looking at the figure in your hands... It's the Fighter... The head having snapped off from the pressure you exerted, laying in the grass below.]

-------------------------------------------------------------------

"So how many has it been?" [You watch Stardust and Odile playing their little drinking game. You don't know why you're listening in, you don't want to know what his life was like before getting stuck back with you... So why do you keep watching?]

"-You know you haven't told me about the original loops yet." [You perk up, finally the topic changing to something else, something... oddly nostalgic. You listen more intently, as if curious on how Stardust would regale the events of it all... of what he'd say about you.]

-------------------------------------------------------------

[... Why is he speaking so fondly of you?... Does he know you're watching? Can he feel it somehow? No, he knows you can check in on him. He must act like that all the time just in case you're watching...]

"... So what IS Loop anyhow? You HAVE to know more about them, right?" [Your heart suddenly stops... He promised you. He told you he wouldn't tell anyone. He knows you might be watching! He wouldn't if that were the ca-]

"Okay, I'll tell you..."

[zhongliologist]

All or Nothing | Aventurine Modern! AU

Pairing: Aventurine x fem!reader Genre: SMUTTTT!!  Words: 4k A/N: Hi it's been a while. I've been busy. So busy that it seems I forgot how to write smut. So it's not the best I could write after such a long time. I definitely did not proofread this before posting lmao Anyways, thanks for the continued support! THIS IS AN 18+ FIC. BY CLICKING THE READ MORE BUTTON, YOU HAVE UNDERSTOOD AND ACCEPTED THAT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED AND LIABLE FOR THE DECISION YOU MADE.

In some deserted hotel stairwell, a sense of urgency has permeated within its walls--far away from the lavish party thrown downstairs. The soft jazz, polite chuckles and clanking of champagne flutes were replaced with the sound of shuffling clothes, muffled voices and shallow breaths. Here in this forgotten place, your heart was electrified, your hands clammy, yet you knew you were in the right place at the right time.

“Hurry up…”

His arms were snaked along the arch of your back, fingers dancing at the hem of your dress as if threatening to divest it then and there. His lips were slow and deliberate on yours, like savoring a treat after such a long time.

Meanwhile, your hand created creases on the lapels of his expensive coat, and the other played with the blond hair on his nape, both with the intention of pulling him closer to you until perhaps he’ll decide to never leave you again.

“No need to rush, love,” he replied in between kisses. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You could.” You moaned to a playful bite on your jaw. “I still haven’t forgiven you for last time.”

“Shh. Focus.” The blond scolded you, his leg already digging against the apex of your thighs. It might be too early for you, but he already has full intention to pull you into a climax.

It was a dangerous game you were playing, yet you couldn’t care less. Tonight, where it was only you and him--no roles to play, no time to pretend. Such moments were rare in your current lives, and you fully intend to relish it, despite all of its consequences.

They had no idea about me and you.

“Oh how scandalous…” he teased, lips tickling the edge of your ear. “The star of the party in a rendezvous with a Wall Street gambler? At an empty fire escape no less?”

You groaned, pushing him off. “You and your big mouth. You don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

Despite your irritation, his bright hypnotic eyes gazed at you, filled with adoration. “You still like me nonetheless.”

This time you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, let’s continue this in my room. I don’t want to risk anyone finding us.”

Grabbing him by the collar, you dragged him through several flights of stairs until you were at the right floor. With quiet footsteps, the both of you sneaked down the hallway, careful not to be seen by anyone--at least you were careful. Your partner on the other hand, had other plans, earning himself several points of irritation from you.

“Hey, imagine if we really got caught by someone, huh?” he grinned, allowing himself to be dragged along. “Oh I could already see the tabloid headlines! New regulatory commission chief already getting in bed with an IPC executive…an infamous one at that! Of course the IPC gets preferential treatment again! Imagine that!”

Wordlessly opening the door to your hotel room, you stepped inside and waited for him to finish his spiel. You simply stood there in front of him, ready to close the door.

“Or, I could imagine shutting this door right now and you not getting any action tonight.” 

“W-wait!” He panicked. “I’m sorry. Fine, fine! I’ll shut up now.”

You sighed, hauling him by the collar again as he stumbled inside. Why do you put up with this man?

“You’re still one hell of a mess,” you remarked with a resigned breath as you closed the door. “After years of not hearing about you, you suddenly appear as an IPC executive? Care to explain…hmm, what do they call you now? Aventurine?”

Picking himself up, the man before you brushed some imaginary dust from his coat and pinned you between his arms to the nearest wall. He still had that same smugness, the same confidence that allowed him to win any high-risk, high-gain bet he gets himself into.

“C’mon, love. Don’t you find the conflict-of-interest sexy?” he asked, leaning closer towards you until his forehead was resting on yours. “It’s like some kind of forbidden love.”

“Stop kidding around. I’m not amused.” You glared.

Still, he chuckled. Brushing a stray lock from your cheek, he caressed your face gently with his finger--tracing some imaginary lines only he could see. He used to do this a long time ago, when you sometimes fell asleep during long hours of studying; when you were still unfortunate enough to have him as your thesis partner. Those were moments he often goes back to--a touch base whenever he loses sight of himself. But right now, you are in front of him--just a moment’s reach; just a stone’s throw away. He was often called a crazed thrill-seeking gambler, but he wouldn’t gamble this moment with you for anything. He can’t afford to lose everything here.

 “Why…don’t we talk about the past later…?” he whispered, eyes lidded. “Right now, I just miss you, and you miss me too, don’t you?”

At this point, you had closed your eyes. He was right. Your need for an explanation wasn’t as important nor as urgent as your need to have him in your arms right now. That could wait. This…whatever it is, you knew your soul craved it the moment you locked eyes again back in the ballroom.

“Kakavasha…” you spoke as softly as you could, careful not to break this delicate thing between you, as if it could disappear any moment. “Please kiss me?”

With that, he smiled fondly. “With pleasure.”

Unlike your previous tryst in the fire escape, he lips were tender on yours, almost scared and hesitant, yet the burn remained just as strong. It moved slowly through your veins like molten gold, turning you pliable to his touch. Without realizing, his hands were once again on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on the fabric of your dress, while his lips continued their gentle approach.

Everything you kept and held back after all these years came crashing on you like a tidal wave. His scent, his voice, the weight and warmth of his touch--they used to be memories you kept coming back to again and again, resigning to the fact that maybe you’ll never be able to experience it again. But now, they were real, he is real, and that realization welled tears on your eyes.

“W-wait…let me just…” you gasped, hands shaking.

As you ran out of air, the both of you suddenly locked gazes. His unique eyes always mesmerized you, reminding you of teal suns on a pink ocean, pulling you in until you might sink and drown and die. It was as addictive as a psychedelic trip, and all you need was him.

Unbeknownst to you, Aventurine was not as calm as he appeared to be. Just the sight of you--hair mussed, lipstick smudged and just slightly breathless from the kiss you shared--was enough to make his heart jump out of his chest, and his pants tighten rather uncomfortably. Gods…

“Sorry. I just can’t take this anymore.”

He groaned, pushing you to the nearest wall in a muffled thud as he crashed his lips to yours, rough and impatient. It didn’t take long for him to bite and suck on your lips, imagining how you would look like right now--flushed and lips swollen. He initially planned to seduce you, slowly working his way into your heart until you give in to his advances, yet now, you had him wrapped around your finger. Maybe it had already been that way since a long time ago. He simply hadn’t noticed.

“What--mmmh…mm…”

You immediately melted in his embrace, amused at how Aventurine tried to contain himself but failed anyway. He was both endearing and annoying, sweet but also kind of mean, a gentleman yet at the same time, an animal ready to devour you anytime. You were often swept up in his antics--just like how his hands were deftly peeling away your dress until it pooled on the floor by your feet, or how he slipped his tongue in between your lips, greeting yours in a sloppy kiss that had your cheeks burning as if they were on fire.

Making out with you is often enough to send Aventurine into a drunk lust-filled daze with his cheeks flushed and bright eyes blown wide. He couldn’t help himself, not when you were this sexy in his arms, not when you oh-so-discreetly managed to get rid of his coat and tossing it somewhere on the floor. His thoughts were all filled with you and only you. For you, he would gladly gamble away everything, he could even bet the world if he has to. For Aventurine, there was no one else that mattered but you. Even if the world thinks of him as some kind of maniac, he couldn’t care less as long as you were by his side.

Distracted by your lips and his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed that you were slowly inching him closer to the bed, until it was near enough that you could push him down in one move. Still in his button up and pants, you straddled him between your legs--his eyes wide and blown upon finally seeing you in black lace lingerie.

“Oh fuck…I’m not dreaming, am I?”

You smirked, grinding yourself against the very obvious tent on his pants. “Focus, dear. Can’t have you waking up so suddenly.”

“Ughh…”

The sudden friction had him gritting his teeth, amazed and at the same time unbelievably aroused at how bold you’ve become. With a toothy grin baring sharp canines, Aventurine suddenly grabbed your waist and rubbed himself against your covered slit, eliciting a moan out of you.

“We could do this all night, princess,” he gasped between words as he continued to grind himself against you, while you found yourself unable to do anything but roll your eyes as he brushed against your sensitive nub at the right angle.

“W-Wait…ah! P-Please…I…!”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, fingers toying with the hem of your panties. “C’mon. Don’t be shy. You can cum all over me.”

He could already feel your slick drenching him, lubricating the fabric of his pants and intensifying the friction that had you breathless on top of him. Aventurine could also feel himself leaking with pre-cum but honestly, he didn’t care if he’d ruin a good pair of pants. He was too busy admiring you above him--your beautiful breasts bouncing despite the constraints of your bra, the skin of your neck and your collarbones littered with splotches of color, your lips slightly ajar and whispering his name over and over again as if in a lust-filled trance.

Ah, fuck. He’d probably cum too if he wasn’t careful.

“Ahnn…! I can’t! Mnmm…I’m close…so c-close…!”

“That’s it…ahh…don’t hold back, princess.”

With one thrust, you came undone quickly--trembling and shivering as you moaned his name, your hands immediately grabbing on to his shirt so you wouldn’t fall over. Even though you were still reeling from the high, Aventurine had other ideas. Flipping you around, with him now hovering above you while you lay flat on the bed, he swiftly discarded his white dress shirt, revealing a toned body that was not there a few years before.

Unsure how it had never hit you earlier, you were now faced with the sudden realization that the scrawny college boy you knew was already a full-grown man; a man who could easily bring heaven to you.

“Like what you see?” The blond asked with a chuckle, dramatically waggling his brows just to tease you. “Like I said, don’t be shy now. You just came all over me.”

The thought immediately left your cheeks burning with embarrassment, and had you spurting a coherent reply. “S-Shut up! I’m just not used to this!”

At your words, Aventurine hummed, a thought crossing his head. “Well then, seems like it’s up to me to get you used to it.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he swiftly removed your panties--revealing trails of your glistening fluid.

“Wha--!” You desperately tried to cover yourself, yet Aventurine was faster, seizing both your hands away.

“If you don’t want me to tie you up, keep those hands on the sheets,” he threatened, but eventually grinned anyway. “or better yet, you could hold on to me. Whatever my princess wants.”

Not waiting for a reply, the blond leaned over as he spread your legs wide, allowing him access to your drenched pussy. Stroking a finger across your slit, Aventurine relished at your squirming figure--earning a shit-eating grin from him.

“Look how wet you are,” he chuckled darkly, teasingly blowing air right at your clit and making you yelp in surprise. “By the way, I’m called Aventurine now…in case you need a name to scream.”

The sudden reminder created a lot of questions in your head, most of them beginning with the word ‘why’. However, he didn’t give you time to agree or disagree, as he pressed a thumb on your sensitive clit, making your back arch at the sudden stimulation.

“Alright, hold on tight, love. I bet I can make you cum with just my tongue.”

The moment when he dived in you were struck by an unfamiliar sort of pleasure which electrified every vein in your body, rendering you helpless against his unrelenting tongue. He savored your juices as if they were sweet honey, lapping your slit clean, to the point of pushing his tongue inside of you.

Amidst all of this, you realized he was right again. You found your hands clinging on to him for dear life, pulling on his locks of blond hair as you struggled to find your breath after waves upon waves of pleasure assaulting you.

“O-oh…my god…fuck! Aventurine…!”

You were practically screaming when he reached your clit, sucking on the swollen nub until you were seeing stars. It was unfair how he was able to drive you crazy with just his tongue, and you can’t deny that it felt so good that you wanted more.

Aventurine could feel you getting close once again. Your body was trembling as you pushed his head down in a desperate attempt for more friction. He wouldn’t deny you that, of course. He continued his ministrations until you were screaming silently, your voice hoarse and dry after crying out in pleasure. And in one moment, something inside you snapped. With back arched and eyes rolled, you squirted on his tongue just like how he wanted; lapping on your juices like a man starved.

“See? I won again,” he gloated as he peppered your thighs with kisses, moving his way up to your stomach, and towards your chest. At this point, his erection was already too painful to keep within his pants, yet he had to do something first before thinking about himself.

Turning your head so you could face him, Aventurine once again descended his lips upon yours in a tender and gentle kiss. It was slow but passionate, filled with everything he wished to say after all those years but cannot. Despite the haziness from your high, everything was clear at that moment. His lips were soft and captivating, nibbling at your lower lip when he felt a little playful. Meanwhile, you met his tongue with yours, dancing in a wet and sloppy kiss which forced you to acknowledge how badly you missed him. Ever since you parted ways, there was no day where you wished he wasn’t there with you--through days where you were being celebrated, or through days where you had to crawl back home. Why did you have to go, Kakavasha?

Yet you knew that there will come a time that those unanswered questions will be finally answered. However right now, something else occupied both your minds.

“Hey…” you whispered between his lips, a trail of saliva still connecting you. “I want you now, Kakavasha…”

One more peck before answering you, the man asked. “Are you sure? I mean, you’re more than ready but--“

Cupping his cheeks, you interrupted him with another kiss. “I’m sure. I want you in me…please?”

For a moment, Aventurine was hesitant, yet as you continued to gaze directly into his eyes, he relented. With a resigned sigh, he smiled and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “No take backs, princess.”

Once again, he traced his lips down to your jaw, leaving a trail of pecks along his way. Remembering how much you shivered at a love bite, he made sure to suck on a pulse point on your neck, earning a low and sensual mewl from your lips. He drew a masterpiece on your skin, from your neck to your collarbones, biting, nibbling and sucking his way down to your chest.

 Expertly removing your bra with deft fingers, Aventurine reveled at the sight of your breasts, nipples pert and touch starved. He couldn’t resist the temptation, not when they were right there in front of him. His mouth descended upon one, twirling around his tongue as if teasing you, while his hand fondled your other breast, still in awe of its softness.

“You sure have grown in this department.” He remarked with a wide grin, earning a disparaging look from you.

Chuckling at your reaction, he continued to play with your breasts, squeezing a nipple and eliciting a moan out of you. He made a mental note to make you cum just with your breasts some other time--that would be quite a sight, wouldn’t it?

The vibrations from his laugh made your skin tingle, making you even more sensitive than before. It felt like there was a furnace under your skin, burning you from the inside out and turning you into a bumbling lewd mess.

“Aventurine…please…just…hurry up!” You whine through lidded eyes and a flushed face, as an uncontrollable emotion welled up inside you. “Please…I-I want you…”

Seeing you sobbing so desperately for him, something in Aventurine snapped. Brushing his bangs away from his face, his lips had widened into a dangerous smirk and a dark glint had appeared in his gaze.

“I was planning to be gentle with you tonight seeing that we just had a heartwarming reunion…” he started, kneeling before you and spreading your legs wide for him to delight in. “But never would I’ve imagined you’d beg for me so desperately.”

Finally releasing his dick from the confines of his pants, you could see how hard he was and how it was leaking so much of pre-cum. He was long, kind of girthy and it instantly made you nervous if it was right to goad him into fucking you senseless. You might have chewed more than you can swallow.

Placing himself on your slit, he began rubbing himself on you, coating his cock with your slippery juices. Of course, he had to tease you whenever he had the chance--hitting your already abused clit with his member as he brushed pass.

“You’re so wet, princess…” he groaned between labored breaths. “My dick could easily enter this pretty little hole of yours…”

“Please…! Aven…turine…I want you…I-I…!”

“Fine,” he replied as he gritted his teeth. “Here you go, princess!”

With one sharp thrust, Aventurine entered you, bottoming up immediately. The sudden stretch had you keening, arching your back from the sudden stimulation. You felt so full and warm inside…so full of him.

“Ah fuck…this is too much…” he growled, face as bright as his eyes. Upon meeting gazes however, Aventurine immediately crashed his lips on yours in a bruising kiss. In between pecks and bites, he kept groaning and murmuring your name, overwhelmed by the varying emotions welling up inside him.

“Mhhmm…Y/N…a-ahh…I missed…you…hngh--! I just…I’m sorry…mmhm…feels t-too good…”

“Aven…turine…!”

“Sorry…I can’t hold back anymore…”

As soon as those words left his lips, Aventurine began thrusting into you, looking for that one spot that had you melting in his arms. He was rough and relentless, pounding into you like an animal--leaving you screaming his name over and over again. It felt so incredibly good. After such a long time, you had forgotten how intense sex with Aventurine was. You could even say that he had become better, stronger and more refined in his ministrations, yet still intense nonetheless.

“Oh god…there! It f-feels…so good…!” you whined, holding on to his arm as he placed your leg over his shoulder, finding a better angle to fuck you silly.

“You like that, huh?” He purred, an amused grin plastered on his face. “Let me make you feel good even more.”

Without you noticing, he suddenly pinched your clit, earning a loud scream from your lips, your eyes rolling from the pleasure. Yet he didn’t stop there, he continued to rub on your sensitive nub as he pounded his cock into you, forcing your tight walls to remember his shape.

“F-fuck…fuck…I’m…ah! I’m gonna cum…p-please harder…fuck me harder…!”

With a sardonic smile, Aventurine snaked his arm around your leg and thrusted harder and deeper, making you drool on the sheets.

“I’m…close too…nghh…! Where do you want me, princess?”

“I-Inside…please finish inside…I want you…”

As soon as you said those words, Aventurine’s lust-addled brain refused to function anymore. All thoughts left the room and was instead replaced by lewd sounds of skin on skin and loud screams and low groans. You had been waiting for this moment, to be unraveled and ravished by him, to be pounded by his hard cock and filled with his warm essence. For a long time, you had waited to be with him, and finally your close to the climax.

In one particularly hard thrust of his cock, you came undone--squeezing him tight as you squirted once again. Your head turned blank and all you could see were stars as waves of euphoria washed over you, making you tremble and shiver.

“Ah, shit…! I’m cumming…!”

It didn’t take long for him to follow, filling you up with his warm cum as you trembled beneath him; the shock of his orgasm sent you falling from another peak. As soon as he was able to catch his breath, Aventurine leaned down towards you, capturing your lips with a tender kiss--this one saturated by his adoration for you. You easily reciprocated, smiling as you kissed him and allowed yourself to be swept up by his gentleness.

“I love you…” he whispered, burying his face at the crook of your neck. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry I left you that day. I couldn’t face you at that time…you were so perfect, while I was a fucking mess. I didn’t deserve you then. I don’t think I deserve you even now.”

Brushing your fingers through his fine blond hair, you listened quietly and allowed him to finish.

“Aventurine…no, Kakavasha…” you whispered gently to his ear, coaxing him to gaze into your eyes. “Yes, you’re a mess. Yes, you’re a goddamn headache. But I’m not perfect either. I might not be able to give you what you deserve. So it’s fine if you struggle and make mistakes, I’ll still love you all the same. As long as you would have me too, that is…”

Without warning, Aventurine enveloped you in a tight hug, kissing you wherever his lips landed. He felt relief wash over him, the heaviness in his heart he had harbored for so many years suddenly lifted just like that.

“I won’t let you go ever again,” he exclaimed. “This kind of luck doesn’t come around very often.”

Giggling, you began pushing him off of you. “Alright, get off me now. You’re heavy.”

“By the way, earlier…I, uh…” he scratched his nape, suddenly embarrassed. “You’re in some sort of birth control, right?”

You scoffed amusingly at him and shrugged. “Who knows? Wanna bet you’d knocked me up?”

Those words seemed to have unlocked something inside Aventurine’s head. He began imagining little versions of you with his unique eyes, and little versions of him with your features. He imagined you swollen with his child growing inside you, singing softly as you gently caress your belly. He could imagine all sorts of things; he could imagine a future with you. Covering his burning face with the palm of his hand, he glanced at you with an inexplicable expression.

“Hold on. We’re not done here yet,” he began, seizing both your wrists and pining you down to the bed. “If it’s a bet, I’d like to increase my chances of winning.”

[sweeetrandall]

Im gonna talk about personalities (and autism) in professor layton for a second, especially in miracle mask.

it is very tragic that layton isn’t even really his own person. Like he was struck with death during a time he was still struggling to form his own identity. He really was sort of just following Randall around and letting him take him by the hand and thrust him into anything. This is a relationship I found myself in again and again growing up, getting “adopted” by an extroverted kid and then getting all my social connections through them.

This kind of relationship makes it easy to lose your own personhood as it takes away nearly all your agency in terms of your social life. You begin surrounding yourself with people and personalities that match whoever adopted you rather than your own tastes, and you begin conforming in order to survive more or less.

This sounds pretty tragic, and in some ways it is, but it’s a lot better (and easier) than being alone, which often happens if you don’t get “taken in”.

I think Randall was an overall good influence on Hershel and positive presence in his life. It just happens that Hershel himself seems to have been especially prone to this sort of thing, to the point such a lack of personal identity (or, at least, instability in finding it) caused him to completely adopt Randall’s passions and interests out of sheer guilt, almost as if he owed him a debt. After all, it’s easy to feel indebted to the person who goes out of their way to talk to the “autistic kid” …. Part of this could easily be because Hershel had already begun integrating Randall’s interests into himself (likely subconsciously as part of this survival mechanism) and being suddenly ripped away from this it was pushed to an extreme as a way of filling that void.

Hersh also shows signs of generally not thinking much of himself. Being a more secluded kid makes it easy to develop this kind of self image…and also why having a friend who constantly encourages you like Randall is so intoxicating.

We see Hershel time and time again say how he isn’t that interested in archaeology or puzzles, nor is he confident in his ability to do either - to the point he actively expects himself to get incorrect answers, as his puzzle solve animation shows a brace for a huge “INCORRECT” sign only to be surprised he found a solution.

Meanwhile, Randall is the face of confidence.

I don’t need to point out how next time we see Hershel, he has faith in his own puzzle solving abilities - “My intuition should serve me well”, even taking from Randall’s personal lexacon, “Critical thinking is the key to success.”

I won’t ignore the grief and guilt, as the role it plays is obvious. I only want to point out how instead of being the source itself of Hershel’s radical adoption of Randall’s personality, I read it more as an extreme driver of an already existing tendency to mimic those around him as a sort of survival mechanism. In times of crisis these mechanisms are put into overdrive.

(As others have pointed out, this also happens with Claire and the gentleman persona she encouraged him into, but that’s another subject.)

I also want to examine this in Randall himself, since we see a pretty interesting inversion of Hershel’s situation on his part.

The risk-taking, erratic behavior we see in Randall is something I’m pretty sure stems from his hatred for his father and the general life he is made to live. A stuffy mansion doesn’t suit him, if his kind of goofy outfit has anything to say about it. He stands in stark contrast to the other rich Stansbury kid, Dalston, who is altogether enthusiastic about business and wealth.

Where I think this gets especially interesting is when Randall falls into Akbadain. Having experienced a “reset”, he quickly adapts to his new life. He isn’t an entirely different person - he still has proficiency in puzzles as Firth/Tannenbaum tells us.

And if his reaction to Descole’s letter was anything to go by, he’s still as impulsive and emotionally driven as ever.

What we get to see from his time in Craggy Dale is a Randall relieved of his old life - no smothering father, no family fortune, no mansion. In fact, we get a life that is essentially a polar opposite, complete with a loving adoptive father and slow-paced life that “tames the wildest of hearts”. Being allowed to breathe and live slowly creates a Randall who, while still brainy and enthusiastic, is radically different from the Randall Hershel, Henry, and Angela knew.

This is why the ending of Miracle Mask sort of bothers me, as I fully believe Randall would not want to pick up where he left of when he was 17. He literally got himself “killed” living that life, likely pushed and simultaneously blinded by the pressure from his family, which mixed horribly with his own impulsivity and need for freedom. I would imagine growing up in a mansion causes you to develop a less than realistic view of life and your own abilities.

This is where Hersh comes back in, as it’s pretty serendipitous in my eyes that the person he “absorbed” the personality of happened to move on from that personality in a pretty dramatic way. This way there isn’t any sort of doppelganger tension. Ultimately, Randall did want Hershel to develop an interest in archaeology and puzzles, and it seems he’s satisfied with that.

(also I think it’s a little bit creepy that they had Randall adopt the same haircut and glasses he had when he was 17 with a “now you’re back to normal” attitude, going off what I just discussed, but I digress)

Essentially, it’s crystal clear to me how Hershel developed his personality considering his upbringing eerily reflecting the way I survived as an autistic kid, and the fact much of Randall’s personality/life direction was derived from the circumstances of the life he later shed makes it kind of poetic. At the end of it all I think they have a lot to learn from each other just as they did when they were teens, especially from the experience they gained since then.

[5a-alf]

I have been obsessing over this perfect court!AU and have literally like one irl friend to talk about it with. So.

The thing about Riko is that he never ever ever could have been anything different. He has at least one but probably two personality disorders (narcisism and antisocial i'd argue), which are the result of the abuse he endured. From a young age he was only an object, a spare, or the embodiment of an idea.

Others are redeemable because they are people, but he never really was a person in his own right. So he got worse and worse and worse, and we all know what he did.

I wanted a story where he could have something different, for i feel there is no universe in which he ends in a different way: everything he has is a childish dream, and that would have failed at some point anyway. And with failure comes death. I think his brother would have killed him even without the whole clusterfuck of the last game, just because without Kengo the main line was now only one adult and the 'branch' one was 2, which is one too many. Between Riko and Testuji, killing Riko made the most sense because Testuji had no interest in power, he just liked his dolls; also he was already an expert at his job, while Riko would have to learn/train to fill that role. And obviously age is also a factor, Riko is young, Testuji is middle-aged: for ichirou, a young man, the second is less threatening.

I could go on for hours guys im not even joking

For him to have a different future, he is not even the only thing that needs to change. If he was a good person, he'd have been dead earlier. If he was an okay person too. Maybe as morally gray he'd have the same exact life with a little less enemies.

What needs to change with him is the people he has around, his safety net. He has zero people on his side in canon (And he shouldn't have them, mind, he's horrid. But still, out of every bad person in aftg he is the only one who no one loves), he only has followers and pawns. So for an AU to work, he would need to change in a way that would affect the people he surrounds himself with enough to once again reach the show down with Ichirou and "win" against Testuji.

To do that, i think he needs Neil on his side. Kevin is great dont get me wrong, but he doesnt get it the way neil does. Neil gets the mafia, its way of thinking, its deals and the way power moves. Neil know how to be vicious and how to read people and how to push just enough.

To have a 'good' relationship with neil something needs to go differently during the selling, so that his mom doesnt run away with him. But he'd also need to have a good relationship with kevin first. For him to have a different relationship woth kevin i dont think he'd necessarily need to be better morally, he'd just need to be a better manipulator. In canon he controls people with fear/violence/money, but the best way to control people is actually through love/favors. To train a dog, you better give it treats than beat it. I think this way they would end up with a better relationship but also, the better relationship would in turn make him a better person, and the two things would continue to feed each other.

Neil comes in now. He is 10, Riko and Kevin are 12. The thing with Neil (aside from all i've already said) is that Riko would quite literally own him at this point, the same way he then owns Jean. The main difference between the two situations i think would be 1) their personalities 2) their age. At 16 (Jean 14) Riko is already off the deep end. Waay too deep. But at 12? Different story.

For the first point, mostly i'd say that Neil grew up in an abusive household like jean did, but he knew his father as the butcher, as a mafioso, and he was taught how to use knives ecc as a kid. He knew the drill, he knew the life. Jean was completely uprooted, brought into a different country, told to play a game i dont think he knew anything about. Much more jarring. Neil already loved Exy, he wanted to play it all the time; the sport itself would be a good motivator for good behaviour. Jean was just angry angry angry (fair.) and alone in a different country. So. Not the same. I think Raven!Neil would be the one person on the team not afraid to tell Riko off, but also not afraid of his violence (much more restricted in this au guys), and riko is also not scared of Neil's violence (a bit more than in canon, he grew at castle evermore; he is nathaniel) so they find solace in each other. He'd know when to listen and when to mouth off [Riko saying "nathaniel" vs "neil" and things like that]

Second point is their age, because at 12 riko is more susceptible to change than he is at 16, so building a rapport with neil would prove more beneficial, for all i've said in point one.

Jean would be a harder case. Bringing him to heel is much more complicated, because riko doesnt have anything to leverage against him nor offer him, the guy has nothing to lose anymore and now is not enough of a person to desire anything (well. Anything obtainable. He'd like to be free for sure). I think again a lot of the work would be done by neil (and kevin too obv, but neil mostly, as his partner) because they are the same age, play the same role, are partners. Neil would be a centainty. And this better riko wouldnt be violent to destroy his spirit, he'd be "forgiving" (when useful) and bandage his wounds when the Master beats him, and be generally kind to a kid who is so starved for kindness he'd kill himself to at least get the touch of death. That + group mentality and i think jean would be on board too.

Andrew also factors in all of this, but i'll go on later this has gotten SO LONG and i wont even reread it gosh i hope it makes sense.

Basically this whole thing ends up in: take the insanity that is andreil as a couple but that somehow is the sanest couple out there but extend it to the perfect court 5.

[wr1t3w1tm3]

More unsolicited thoughts on The Outsiders a New Musical.

Tw: mention of suicide in some of the last paragraphs. If you've read the book/watched the movie, ya know.

Contains spoilers for all forms of The Outsiders (book, movie, and musical). All spoilers are below the cut.

I figured out why some of the songs in the new Outsiders musical didn't make as much sense.

They changed several plot points!!!

Most aren't egregious and I'm cool with them, but there are a couple they got me some kinda way.

(This is based if the plot synopsis on Wikipedia. It could be wrong but it's all I've got cause im a broke pleb).

In Chronological Order:

Obviously there is no Steve. Personally don't care either way. Like him and Soda's platonic relationship, particilarly what we see in the movie, but otherwise I understand why it was easier to cut his role.

Johnny only got jumped a week before the musical (but then Justice for Tulsa sounds weird because Cherry suggests Johhny killed because of how Bob treated him and she implies that he was hurt a while ago...? IDK man. Not to big a gripe but it's just weird).

Grease got a Hold is essentially a ritual initiation because Ponyboy survived getting jumped (they skip his getting saved by the gang by having Pony get knocked out) so him surviving makes him a Greaser? I don't understand and frankly I would've preferred slightly less deviation from the source material here but again, I don't mind this change, it's all down to preference.

I almost don't like how much of a main character Darry has become? Like I like him in the adaptation, but I feel like his upgrade came at the cost of the downgrade of Soda and Two-Bit. I love both those characters and from what I've read/heard they both had there roles reduced, Soda it seems almost severely. But typical middle child shit I guess. Again, he could have a lot of speaking bits because I'm going off a couple synonpses and the cast album, but man I miss him. And Two Bit. I hope that they at least had him and Pony together going to visit Johnny. That's one of my favorite parts of the book and movie.

They add a scene between Johnny and Dally where Dally sees Johnny outside his house. I'm out of order here bit it's the night before the Drive In. Johnny says he's afraid to leave because his dad could kill his mom? Interesting take on that relationship but okay. I do love this scene personally.

I don't know if we get the Two Bit and Marcia fling. It didn't get mentioned in the plot synopsis so I won't comment further.

The addition of Ponyboy going unconcscious during the first fight means I get a two nickles meme about Ponyboy blacking out during fights in this musical.

There's no Randy?!?!? @annacatbeth13 said he got cut for the Broadway run and I'm sorry. He is a hella good character and even though his movie role is reduced, he's so good. I kinda feel like the musical suffers by having only Cherry as the oposition to Soc POV when you've got minimum of Pony and Johnny verbally against the Greaser POV and Darry is very much contrary in action during the book/movie and verbally here.

B/c there's no Randy a lot of Bob and Randy scenes are just Bob and Soc scenes.

I'm sorry, the fact that the guy who plays Bob plays the cop that investigates Bob's murder is sending me. MF rolls up like "yeah, I didn't just die here. This is fine" and everyone rolls with it. It's show business, I understand, but I feel like if I saw this show in person I'd notice and I'd lose it.

Also, I'm gonna note here that Brent Comer played Paul in La Jolla and now plays Darry. Ironic. Speaking of Paul and Darry as much as I don't like them removing Randy using Paul to fill his role as Bob's friend works quiet well. However, isn't Paul 20? And wasn't Bob like 17 or 18? I have questions that I'm not sure I can answer so I'm just gonna assume they were friends in high school and Paul stayed local for college.

I also don't know if they end up going to the Dairy Queen? Like the synopsis says that Dally comes up to see them and that it's Pony's discarded cigarette that starts the fire... but then the kids show up out of nowhere so where the hell did they come from? This entire incident is assumedly spoken so all I've got's the synopsis.

I was told again by @annacatbeth13 that Randy sang Hopeless War with Cherry and Pony and dammit, they took out that entire thing and that is such a catalyst for Ponyboy seeing the world in shades of gray like Cherry mentions in Hopeless War and I'm... I'm sorry. It just feels kinda wrong. I understand why they had to cut him but dammit it doesn't mean I'm not sad.

Everything in the hospital feels rushed. It does seem like they cut the Two-Bit taking Pony to the hospital bit (which makes sense, still sort of makes me mad). It also sounds like they upped Johnny's charge to first degree murder!! Like that doesn't make sense to me. He didn't premeditate shit. I honestly don't even think you could get second degree murder to stick. They then just mention and drop the charges in like the same song? Or in pretty rapid succession because it seems like the cut the juvenile court and Darry having to be checked on by the state storylines. Again, I understand having to strip a musical down to be a bit more barebones because of time contsraints but, like, if Fiddler can have four different plot lines within the same family, you can have the main issue, the sibling fight, and the Pony/Cherry/Randy bit. It's only three plotlines. I don't know why this makes me so mad but it does and IDK why?

I love Trouble. I love Darry in that song. And Dally. But also... Pony in the book and movie has been in multiple rumbles. It is mentioned in greater detail in the book and I don't know how I feel about them making Ponyboy so innocent. Like. He was never innocent, in the book and the movie. Everyone just thought he was? Again, simplifying for time constraints but I do miss it.

I like what they did with Paul. He's always felt very flat, more of a mirror to reflect Darry against same as Steve reflected Soda and Cherry/Randy/Johnny reflected Pony. But I do like the sort of righteous indignation they gave this version of Paul. It gives him that little bit of motivation to convince me that he should be at the rumble, despite being 20. Because in the book we get told that Darry is there specifically as the leader of Pony's "gang" but we don't get told why Paul is there so it feels odd. The musical does rectify that, which I kind of like.

However, I have to say I love Dally and Johnny's relationship in this musical. Just based on what I've seen they made it the most clear and concise interpretation of all versions of this story. Both songs where Dally talks to Johnny he refers to him as little brother, which cements that relationship and helps us understand why he eventually snaps. Which I will be talking about but I cannot give enough praise for their relationship.

I also cannot give enough praise for Cherry. I don't know exactly what they did, and they really ramped up Cherry's invovlement because she had to take some of Randy's place but they did such a good job with her. I like how they put her in the middle of all the conflicts (mostly with the Justice for Tulsa number) and I think seeing how she reacts really cemented this version as my favorite. I think they manage to get across that she actually does care about Johnny and Pony as people. All the other versions she comes off as pitying them which I don't like because it feels fake. And I understand why Pony doesn't like her. I kind of like that her relationship with him extends to her giving him Johnny's clothes because she starts volunteering at the hospital. I think that also helps humanize her too.

Alright, this is the most egrious change, in my humble opinion. They change how Dally dies. I think that him commiting suicide is necessary to the story, but in the musical he JUMPS IN FRONT OF A TRAIN!! You could argue that this is because a train killed the Curtis Parents (as seen in the complete novel edition of the movie) and you could argue that it's a symbol of death or of constancy for the Curtis' as they lose people to trains (technically Pony and Johnny are taken away to Windrixville via train). However... I think it still would've made more sense to stick to Dally dying via suicide by cop. It seems like they cut the Dairy Queen scene and if they did they probably cut Dally carrying a heater, which then makes the suicide by cop not work so they have him jump in front of a train... but that still feels out of character to me. I could be wrong, but when Pony talks about how Dally would go, he says Dally would die young and violent and angry. Him jumping in front of a train doesn't tell me he was angry. It tells me he was depressed. While you still get desperation, it's sad desperation. Not the angry desperation that you get with him doing the suicide by cop.

It would not surprise me in the slightest if they choose not to use Dally's original death because of the police discourse in the media. I want to say now that I have several cops/ex-cops in my family and from what they have told me, if someone pulled a stunt like what Dally did in the movie/book, they would be forced to shoot. It becomes a kill or be killed situation because they don't know if the gun is loaded. Now, the offending officer would be tried later on for manslaughter or related crimes but probably acquitted because they couldn't have known (in the movie it's debatable because the gang yells that the gun isn't loaded, but the police still probably wouldn't have listened). I think that the writers probably wanted to avoid having that controversy drum up. I can't blame them, still pisses me off.

All that being said, I do like this adaptation. But of the three versions of this piece of media, it's my least favorite. Love all the songs, love what characters we do have, and this is by far my favorite Cherry and my favorite portrayal of Johnny and Dally's relationship, but I don't like what they did to Dally in the end. No hard feelings against anyone who likes this or the creatives behind it, but it's just not my favorite and I don't know how faithful I would consider this adaptation.

[soleminisanction]

re Batman '66 and the idea that Bruce is Dick's father is a super recent phenomenon, isn't it also simultaneously an old idea? since there was plenty of Golden Age before the '66 show when Dick was a child, he only wasn't adopted as Bruce's son because that wasn't something bachelors could really do back then, and Alfred wasn't always around as a parent figure to them both like he is in later eras (especially to Bruce, since back then Alfred only showed up after Bruce became Batman and didn't raise him)

I mean that's kind of a complicated question. I actually can't find any evidence that bachelors couldn't adopt in the 1940's, it just wasn't considered typical. Moreover, the narratives they appeared in were less refined, with less overall detail, and less grounded in reality, so their relationship tended to be based more on... for lack of a better term, vibes. It was often up to interpretation.

Dick was a child, yes, and some readers did project onto him and Bruce as a father-son duo due to lack of a strong paternal figure in their own lives (Superman and Captain America got a lot of that, too). But it wasn't a defined role.

Dick in Golden Age comics isn't treated as Bruce's child, he's treated as Bruce's equal, his partner. That's something that a lot of people who don't really "get" the appeal of child sidekicks don't seem to understand, they weren't conceived of as being lesser than their adult counterparts, they were supposed to be on relatively even footing. The whole point was to make a child reader feel like they could stand alongside their icons; whether that was a "realistic" relationship between an adult man and the young boy in his care didn't matter.

The one role besides partner that it can be definitively said Dick plays in the narrative is that of "the Beloved," the person Bruce cares about whose safety can be imperiled to raise the stakes of a story. But that still leaves the actual nature of their relationship pretty open and undefined -- and it didn't help that most other superheroes at the time filled that role not with their sidekicks but with their girlfriends. (This, plus living alone together and several storylines where Bruce getting a female love interest is positioned as a threat to the Dynamic Duo's partnership, is the source of many of the "Batman and Robin are gay lovers" accusations.)

Also, in the Golden Age, and even into the Silver Age to an extent, adult superheroes weren't always treated as fully, well, adult. Sometimes they came across more like bigger kids that young readers could project onto, or imaginary friends who were there to play with and empower them in ways their parents couldn't or wouldn't. A parent's presence would ruin the fantasy, after all. That's why a lot of stories in those eras lean towards the over-the-top and goofy, they weren't going for anything more or less than mimicking children playing pretend, and the characterization reflected that.

So yeah, it's... complicated.