#screwing over people to succeed

[gwensy]

anyways i love blog diving and finding posts about spider-gwen from like 2015 it really is a glimpse into a brighter world

[emptyheadgamer]

After the escapist shit the bed and caused everyone to quit, the first episode of yahtzee's new series is out.

[bodhrancomedy]

I’m just going to say this here so people aren’t concerned.

I am a writer and actor. I am based in the UK and Ireland.

We are not currently striking.

We are being affected by the strikes, there���s certainly not as many jobs around, but we aren’t striking.

If I take a UK-production company job, I am not scabbing.

We have different unions. There are actors represented by both Equity and SAG-AFTRA, but I am not one of them.

(I’m actually not even in Equity yet, I’ve only just earned enough to be accepted and I can’t afford the membership fee at this moment)

We are not allowed to strike in the UK. We have terrible anti-strike laws. We are also being screwed over a lot, but I’m hoping if WGA and SAG-AFTRA succeed we might get some trickle down help.

It’d be totally different if I took an American based job, which I won’t because I want the writers and actors to break the big studios.

Support the strikes, but please remember not everyone is American.

[hijinxinprogress]

YJ playing never have I ever 

Cissie goes never have I ever been experimented on by the government so Greta, Kon, and Bart put a finger down “Bart?? Hello??” “The futures fucked” “Called it” “Are you good?” “I mean I like pizza and not being stuck in a simulation sooo” “the future doesn’t have pizza??” “I know! Not having pizza is the absolute worst” 

Kon goes never have I ever had a mentor disregard my safety and everyone except Anita, Cassie, and Greta put a finger down “The joys of not having a mentor” “Hal lost it when he found out about last christmas” “Every time Diana realizes we’ve gone off planet she goes nuclear” “middle child, no one’s looking for me in the first place”

Cassie says never have I ever been betrayed by family members (biological or otherwise) so there’s a small argument over whether or not you should have to put a finger down for each betrayal “I’m just saying there’s a lot of speedsters” “I have like nine siblings on a technicality” “Do alternate versions of alleged biological relations count??” “🤓👆🏾AlLeGEd BiOlOgicAl ReLaTIoNs ” “stfu” “Can I add someone else’s alt to my list if they killed me?? Wait, Thad tried to kill me again last week” “Are we counting each person or each betrayal??” “I don’t have enough fingers for that” “fuck, me either” “I don’t have enough fingers for each person much less each time I was betrayed” 

Anita goes never have I ever had a family member attempt or succeed in killing me and everyone puts a finger down “so fuck me ig” “does prime count for us??” “yeah?? we’re family, stupid” “I feel targeted” “me too” “what if it was an accident??” “It still counts”

Tim goes never have I ever had to screw with time to meet family member(s) so Anita and Bart put down a finger “technically I didn’t-“ “you’re a speedster put your mf finger down” “fair” “they were babies, I didn’t meet shit” “they were your parents put your fucking-”

Greta goes never have I ever befriended people that tried to kill me multiple times and Tim and Bart put down a finger “it’s how we bond! This is slander” “Bart we’ve been to like six other timelines and dimensions where Thad kills you” “wait you said friend do I-“ “Pru” “listen that’s different” “Anarky??” “Klarion” “Azrael” “Lynx” “I also tried to kill you” “My fucking finger is down are you happy?” 

Bart goes never have I ever had a family that doesn’t want me around and everyone puts a finger down “look at us! Bonding” “I don’t think I was invited to thanksgiving last year” “ngl they have no idea how old I am” “I was accidentally added to the family group chat” “dude they added you??” 

Tim goes never have I ever had mommy issues resulting in everyone putting a finger down “??” “You do know you’re targeting yourself right??” “Bart put your finger down” “wtf why my mom loves me” “Emotional turmoil bc you can never see her again ergo mommy issues” “eRgO” “stfu” “Kon?? You don’t have a mom??” “My choices are Superman or Lex” “Yikes…” “Put another finger down”

[No one wins especially not the jl that walked in halfway through the game bc yj was having game night in a briefing room and gave absolutely zero notice]

[oneofthosebells]

The more I sit with S3 of Young Royals, the more I love it. I feel like it gave us the revolution we were promised but it was personal instead of systematic, and that's okay.

Sometimes you can't burn down everything, some systems are too entrenched to change overnight. But even so you can choose to change yourself, and you can change the people around you, and you can learn and listen and grow. You can choose to put yourself first when you're up against an enemy that's too big to fight and the fight is making you lose sight of who you are. You can choose to walk away from the toxic situation. You can choose the friends that help you grow over the friends that hold you back. You can choose yourself and your friends and your family over the person you have romantic feelings for. And those are all revolutions in their own way.

Hillerska closes, ending the cycle of bullying and abuse. But the elite will fight to open it again because of course they will. That's how it works. The rich and powerful will always cling on by their fingernails to keep the status quo that works for them. (As Terry Pratchett put it, they'll "do what the aristocracy have always done, which is trim sails and survive.") But even if it does re-open, that doesn't undo all the good done by closing it, because things will never be exactly the same again. The school inspectorate will be breathing down their necks, they'd probably have to replace all of the board and most of the staff to re-open, and a few parents at least will re-consider sending their own kids there. Remember how Henry said the school was having problems finding students even before all of this happened? The old regime can't hold.

The monarchy wobbles, but will survive - or will it? Like the school, it's run into big problems. The monarch doesn't look like she wants to do this any more. Her consort is, let's be honest, about as much use as a jelly pickaxe. The only heir they have left is a teenage sex offender with an eating disorder and a pill addiction. So maybe it too is on its way out. Or maybe, like the school, they'll fight to save the institution at all costs, and probably they'll succeed; but something fundamental has shifted. A seed has been planted.

I just really like all the loose ends and unanswered questions tbh. I know it didn't work for some people, which is fair enough! But it really worked for me, because it feels realistic. That's life. This is a small snapshot of 9 or 10 months or so in the lives of a bunch of teenagers. Of course they're not going to have all their issues sorted out yet. Some won't have even realised what their issues are yet (cough, August).

But what this ending gives us is some small, personal revolutions in the present and hope for the future. (For the characters we love, anyway. August is a bit screwed. Yay!) And I think that's beautiful.

I don't think S3 was perfect by any means. There's things I could nitpick if I really wanted to (#JusticeForMaddie). But I just don't want to? Because everything we did get I love to bits, and that's more than enough for me.

[dirtydixonsgirl]

Tease

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: you guys are literally amazing ??? thank you so much for all the support!!

Warnings: teasing, unprotected sex etc. 18+

You loved teasing Daryl. It was just one of the many things you enjoyed with your relationship with him, it kept things spicy, and unexpected. He on the other hand, well it drives him insane to say the least. He can’t handle it, watching you be all sexy and adorable and not dragging you somewhere out of the eyes so he can fuck you senseless for being such a brat but all you can do is tell him you can’t help it because he’s just so sexy when he does little things around Alexandria.

You couldn’t help but to wear the little skirts you know turned him on, bending over in front of him, or the dresses that slide down your clevlage a little too much, making him protective over you, which ultimately turns you on even more with his aggressive demeanor, it was probably one of your favorite things.

One time, he was helping carry some of the boxes of items that were found on a run, you couldn’t help but watch him sweat in the heat, his big muscles flex with every move making your panties a pooling mess, wanting him to manhandle you right then and there. So when he finally notices you’re watching, he slips away promising to be back and heads over to find out what’s wrong with you but when he cups your face, rubbing his thumb across your lip, you gently bite down gently on the pad of his thumb, slipping it into your mouth and sucking on it.

The sight of him getting fluster, the bulge growing in his pants makes you smirk as your actions succeed, staring down at you through squinted eyes as all his dirtiest thoughts run wild.

“What’s gotten into ya lately?” He asks quietly.

You release his thumb from your mouth and respond. “Just want you so bad, Dar.”

But in all honesty, you weren’t sure what has gotten into you. Maybe hormones or maybe you’re just going insane but you can’t keep your hands off of him. Everything he does has you melting and your panties dripping. You can’t help but to get turned on even more knowing that once you speak the words, he’s taking you behind the houses or out in the woods to fuck you senseless.

This time, you were sitting on the other side of the street watching your boyfriend work on his car, he tends to do that often, it seems to be a hobby of his to work on the cars and keep them well maintained. But you just couldn’t stop looking at his muscles flexing in the process, the sweat dripping down them, his hair over his eyes, the back hands from the oil, grunting and just being so..Daryl.

The ice cream you were eating was suddenly dripping down your forearm, causing you to bring it do your face, licking from your elbow all the way to your finger tips. What you did know is that Daryl has already noticed you and you were trying to make it worse for him. Your tongue swirling around the melting ice cream, taking it slow, while giving him your doe eyes that you know he loves.

His burning glare, halting his movements his full focus on you just the way you liked it. His eyes trailed up to the little skirt you were in all the way up to your rapid tongue movements. The sight had him throbbing in his pants, mentally groaning. He wanted to take you over this car right here, right now.

The streets were fairly quiet, a few people passing here and there but when you uncrossed your legs, giving him a three second flash of the panties you had underneath the skirt it was over. His eyes widened, looking around before he dropped the screw driver, his legs faltering to you. You smirked knowing exactly what you’ve caused.

He was determined to fuck you senseless just for being a little brat, for teasing him. He was fed up. He couldn’t get any work done because his mind was constantly sidetracked with making you take him while you’re in that little skirt or making you take his cock in your mouth slobbering and drooling all over it until the mascara from your eyes has stained your face.

“What do ya think yer doin’?” He asks with frustration lacing his tone.

His thumb and index finger holding your face, forcing you to look at him. His sudden reaction causing you to drop your ice cream, your eyes wide staring back into his lust filled once.

“What do ya want baby? You miss my cock that bad?”

You swallow, electricity fueling your body with his touch, his words do nothing but turn you on, you nod slowly, blinking up at him. Your panties were for sure dropping by now.

“Aw, at a lost for words now, sunshine?” He cracks at smirk. “All that talk but no action now?”

“S-sorry, Dar.” You murmur.

Daryls actions had taken you by surprise. He was never this aggressive, this forthcoming. You realize you spark a nerve in him and boy were you enjoying it.

“Tha’s it? All you gotta say?” He brings your face closer to his. “Tha’s fine, I’ll give ya what ya want.”

His words traveled right down to your aching core, adrenaline coursing through your body. His hands left your face, you grabbed his wrist, pulling him in the house, his big hand collapsing your small one. You loved the size difference between both of you, something about him being bigger and dominating you, trapping you against the mattress while he fucks you into oblivion makes your eyes roll at the thought.

He grabs your leg causing you gasp as he shoves you up against the wall, his harden bulge now against your aching clit, you whimper at the feeling, wanting him so bad you hips buck to his but he holds them down with his strength making you look back up at him.

“You feel this? This is what yer doin’ to me baby.” He presses his erection up against you even more. “Every damn day.”

“I-I can’t help it, you just look so hot.” You breathe your hands clutching his arm muscles.

“Little fucking slut,” he spats pushing up against you harder, grinding against you. “Can’t even work round here. Can’t stop thinkin bout you takin my cock all day.”

“D-Daryl-“

The whimper made the tent in his pants ache even more. Without words, you settle on your knees, staring up at him with big eyes, his heart instantly melting at the sight. You reach up, holding his hips and place a soft kiss on the bulge of his jeans causing his breathing to become shallow.

You unbutton the pants, your fingerings playing with the zipper. He waits in anticipation, his usual shyness now falling over him. The adorable shy Daryl you’ve been searching for. You hook your fingers into his waist band, pulling it down, your fingers flex around his erection, causing his breathing to hitch while his chest rises and falls.

“Aahh, right there, sunshine.” He grumbles, his hips jerking.

You lean forward, putting him into your mouth, a sharp breath falling from his lips. The effect you had on him was taking over. Daryl looked down at you, placing his hands into your hair to create a makeshift ponytail. He was in full pleasure, throbbing in your mouth while you slowly teased him, kitten licking the tip and sucking hard.

You gagged slightly, his tip touching the back of your throat, your pace had now picked up causing whimpers to fall from his lips.

“Y-y/n, if ya don’t stop I’m gon’ cum.” He looks down, his hair falling into his eyes.

You start bobbing your head faster, sucking harder, his head falls back, gripping your hair even tighter, until he suddenly lifts your mouth off of him a haste. You look up at him, a string of slobber dangling from your lips in a look of confusion, his breathing scattered, he runs his finger over your bottom lip.

“Need to cum inside ya.”

Is all he says before kicking his pants off and lifting you onto the couch, your lips connect and your tongues entwine leaving you instantly breathless. His body pinning you down and his hips in between your legs, his hand trails up from your hips softly over your belly to your breast squeezing and rubbing them. You groan involuntarily and lift your hips to meet his in hope of finding some fiction.

“Daryl please.” You moan. “Make love to me.”

You close your eyes as his work continues on your breast, kissing down your neck. You tug on his hair making him groan in your mouth. His find their way up your dress, pulling down your panties.

“Already so wet.” He murmurs against your lips, flinging the panties somewhere in the room.

He spits on his hand, rubbing it onto his erection and pushing it in to you. You moan, your body stuttering as you bury your face in his neck, the feeling of him filling you up was delicious. You wrap your legs around his waist and he stares down at you, lightly leaving kisses all over your cheeks.

“So tight,” he grunts, his eyes rolling back with sensation. “Ya feel so good around me, Y/N.”

You pull him closer in response. He slowly moves in and out of you chasing that warm feeling to pool in your belly, you clench around him causing him to grunt. His movements start to quicken letting you know that he is close. Your eyes close and you fall into the feeling of heaven, digging your nails into his back, he grunts once more filling you up with his orgasm, breathing heavily as his head falls into your neck.

“That was amazing.” You breath.

He chuckles. “Yeah? I think so too.”

You loved how Daryl looked all the time but there was something about how he looked after sex that you adored. The glimmer in his eyes, the sweat on his body, how he looks at you. Almost in another planet. You reach of, pecking his nose with your soft lips, giggling at him.

“Wha?” He questioned, looking down at you with concern.

“You’re just so beautiful after sex.” You smile, shrugging your shoulders.

“Beautiful?” His cheeks began to heat up at your words.

“Yes Daryl Dixon, you are so beautiful and I love you so much.” You tell him cupping both of his cheeks bringing his lips to connect yours.

“Love ya so much more.” He whispers against your lips.

[rollforfelicity]

Why Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves Didn't Use D&D Combat Rules (And Why They Were Right Not To)

The D&D movie was really fun, and since at this point most of my friends play D&D (or at the very least other TTRPGs), almost everyone I talk to on a regular basis has also seen it and liked it. The consensus is that even though there's no "meta" that the characters are controlled by players sitting around a table, or jokes about the DM, the movie feels like D&D. The jokes feel like jokes people would make while playing. The constant pivoting from Plan A to Plan B to Plan C feels familiar to anyone who has spent an hour at a table deciding what to do, only to have a roll go sideways and screw things up. Before I get too far, I should say this post contains some mild spoilers for Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves.

What didn't feel like D&D were the fight scenes. In one scene, a Paladin quickly dispatches a group of enemies before any of the rest of the party even acts, showcasing that even though he's kind of a square, he's an incredible fighter. In another scene, the Barbarian grabs and wears a helmet in the middle of a fight, using it creatively to get the upper hand. During a fight against a gargoyle, the Bard blinds an enemy by throwing a blanket over their head, but gets pulled along with them when a loose rope wraps around his leg. These are all pretty big moments in the movie, and Rules as Written, would never happen at a D&D table, because D&D combat doesn't work like that.

Here's what I think is interesting. The vast majority of the rules of D&D revolve around combat. It's not all of the rules, but most class abilities, spells, items, and rules have a combat focus. So why does a movie that functions partially as advertisement for the game spend so little effort to replicate the bulk of the content of the base game?

In my opinion, it's because, Rules As Written (or RAW), combat in D&D is not, generally speaking, narratively satisfying. Let's look at a few reasons why.

D&D is a game where, RAW, things either happen, or they don't. If someone misses an attack, nothing happens. If someone misses a skill check, nothing happens. DMs can work with this, but in the base game, there isn't a lot of guidance for what to do when a player fails at something they're trying to do. This may seem trivial, but compare that to something like Powered By The Apocalypse, which is much more narratively focused. In those games, a full miss means the Game Master changes things up. The enemy gets the upper hand. A new danger surfaces. An NPC is put into peril. Not only does the player fail at what they're trying to do, but something else, bad for the Player Character (PC) but good for the story, happens. On a mixed success, the PC might get what they're after, but at a cost, or with a complication they weren't expecting.

This calls to mind the example of the Bard throwing a tarp over the gargoyle in the final fight of the D&D movie. That's a classic example of a mixed success. He succeeds at temporarily blinding the creature, but in the process, he gets caught up in the gargoyle's rope and is dragged along for a ride. This is a dynamic thing to happen in combat, but wouldn't happen in actual D&D. Instead, a PC would either succeed at what they're doing, and blind the creature, or fail and not blind them. You could argue that the Bard's action was the result of a Natural 1, but that also doesn't fit RAW, because the Bard does succeed as what he's trying to do, and with a Natural 1, he would have failed and been pulled along.

D&D doesn't really reward player creativity. Something like throwing a tarp over a creature wouldn't be likely to happen in a session at all, because in the actual game, it would take a full action to do that, and depending on the Difficulty Challenge (DC) the DM sets, there's a good chance of a wasted turn. Creative actions end up a huge gamble, and when you're playing a game where it could be 20+ minutes before you get to take another turn (more like an hour if you're playing with a Wizard, amirite), you're disincentivized from "wasting" your turn to do something less than optimal. You can describe what you're doing to add to the narrative, whether you succeed or fail, but that brings me to my next point.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this question from Rise Up Comus since I read it a month ago. In D&D, a player can describe all kinds of flavor to what they're doing, and there's no change to the mechanics of the game. You could read this as saying "Oh, well that means you have the freedom to do what you want!" but if you look at game design through the lens of "what kind of play does this game encourage or discourage" the takeaway I have is that description just...doesn't matter to D&D. In my experience, that can lead to a few different unsatisfactory outcomes.

Both players and DM treat combat as purely rolling, and describing only what is required. A DM announces, "The enemy wizard casts fireball, roll dexterity save, take 25 damage. Turn passes to the Rogue." Sometimes players who describe what they're doing are seen as showboating or taking up too much time. Worst case scenario, the DM penalizes descriptive players.

Some players like describing what they do, others don't. This has no mechanical effect on the game. Players who aren't descriptive might be frustrated that an already slow process is slowed down even more. Descriptive players may become frustrated because there's no mechanical benefit to what they're describing, and spend time fruitlessly arguing with the DM that focusing on a weak point of the enemy should give them advantage. I think most tables fall into this category. It's not a bad game by any means, but not everyone is there for the same reason when it comes to combat.

Rule of Cool Table! Everyone describes whatever they want, the dice rolls don't really matter! Combat is generally pretty easy because fuck the rules, if it's cool for the dragon to die based on how the fighter described the attack, even if it's only the first round of combat, hell yeah let's do it! For players who like being more strategic and enjoy the confines of the rule structure because it makes things challenging, these tables can be frustrating. (If you're familiar with Dungeons & Daddies, this is essentially how they play D&D).

Because there's no guideline in the rules, people come to the table with different expectations. Some people want combat to feel like a strategy game, where following the rules in the most optimal way (or combining rules elements in an unexpected way) is mechanically rewarding (usually measured by damage output). Some people want to describe themselves doing cool stuff! Some people don't care about their characters looking cool, but want the story to be compelling. If everyone isn't on the same page, this can lead to players ending combat feeling unfulfilled, and when combat is the bulk of a rules set, it feels strange to me that there's no guidance for DMs or players as to how to incentivize the kind of combat your table is interested in.

This leads to a situation where combat in D&D is the part of D&D that takes the longest, that the majority of spells and abilities are focused on, but it is, narratively, the least satisfying part of the game, unless the table alters the base rules significantly.

If you're not familiar with other TTRPGs, you might be thinking "Okay, but that's why the DM is allowed to do whatever they want and make up new rules! My DM gives inspiration when we describe something cool, that solves this problem!" My critique isn't necessarily of individual tables. DMs and players come up with all kinds of mechanics that aren't in the rules. My critique is that D&D is a role-playing game that essentially has no incentives, and many disincentives, for role-playing during combat. For example, RAW, characters don't really have time to communicate during their turns, as each round takes about 6 seconds. There's no time for banter or negotiation between PCs and enemies. You can see this disconnect by the way people talk about D&D. How many times have you heard people say "I love D&D but I don't like combat?" How could this rift be rectified? Let's take a look at some other TTRPGs.

In 7th Sea, if you take the time to describe how your character is doing something, you get a bonus to your dice pool. In Thirsty Sword Lesbians, when you get a mixed success on a Fight roll, you and your opponent are given narrative prompts to build tension (like flirt with or provoke your opponent). In Kids on Bikes, you can fail or succeed rolls by different number ranks, which determines how significant the successes or failures are. In Wanderhome, you get a token when you "take a moment to bask in the grandeur of the world, and describe it to the table." In Good Society, each player gets a "monologue token" which they can spend to prompt another player to deliver their Main Character's internal monologue. I just played a bad-action-movie-themed game called Action 12 Cinema, where players can boost a roll if they call out the song that would be playing during this scene of the movie, and get an even FURTHER boost if anyone at the table sings it.

Each of those game mechanics gives you an instant understanding into the mood of the game, and the kind of stories its built for you to tell. Even if you've never heard of any of those games, I bet, based on the title and the move, that you could hazard a guess as to what playing the game is like. Dungeons & Dragons certainly has rules that add to the lore of the game, and prompt you to create characters that act a certain way. But when it comes to combat, players and DMs are left to their own devices. Some may see that as a strength of the game, but I see it as a source for a lot of disappointing play experiences.

And it seems as though, at the very least, the writers of Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves thought the combat rules were narratively unsatisfying enough that they eschewed using any of them.

[thefallennightmare]

The Promise-Andy Biersack

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Andy Biersack x OFC

Warnings: smut, language, angst(lots of it), a smidge of fluff, mentions of abuse, alcoholism.

Summary: High school was supposed to be some of the best years of a teenager's life; except for River. Those four years were hell, the only one that got her through it was her best friend, Andy. She thought he'd be by her side after graduation but after one night of giving each other something so treasured, life took both of them in different directions.

Almost ten years later, River and Andy meet again in a way neither of them expected.

Authors Note: This is my first time writing Andy Biersack but I'm very excited! As of now, it is a one-shot but might consider continuing it if people are interested!

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @concreteangel92 @flowery-mess @cookiesupplier @poppy-in-the-woods @viofcrows @sprokat @srorgana1 @bloody-delusion-expert

 “You don’t ever have to be alone, River,” his soothing voice cooed in my ear as he cupped my cheek. 

I looked up at him through the tears and choked on a sob. “Promise you’ll stay with me?”

He smiled that smile I fell in love with years ago. “I promise.” 

The sounds of yelling pulled me out of my thoughts in time to see a group of teenagers running past me on the street, youthful smiles on their faces. 

If they only knew what the future for them held. 

With the setting sun grazing over the streets of Hollywood as people made their way home from school or work, I was headed to work with my camera bag hanging on my shoulder and phone in my hand. I had the Maps app up giving me directions where I needed to go. It was going to be a long night at work for this music video shoot and I was already on my third cup of coffee, the feeling of caffeine still not flowing through my system. 

I spent the morning and afternoon bouncing between different shoots from clients and when I remembered I had booked this job taking pictures of a band's music video tonight, I cut the last photoshoot short by only a few minutes to make it in time. 

The company that booked me for this video shoot, Industrialism Films, didn’t tell me much about who the band was. They just told me to show up at seven p.m. and start working as soon as I was set up. It was going to be an all-night event and I needed to make sure to get shots of everyone in the band. 

Hence the third cup of coffee. 

It also hadn't helped that my mind had been plagued with memories of high school even ten years after graduation. Usually, I was great at pushing away those awful memories but the last few nights, those images of my past life kept clawing at me, dragging me down to the depths. I spent so long trying to crawl out of it and breathe that fresh air I desperately craved those four years of hell. 

The bullying. 

Eating alone in the bathroom stalls. 

The feeling of being so alone, I cried myself to sleep every night. 

The desperation of my home being a haven away from the mocking at school, only to have it worse there. 

Every single day of high school was miserable; except for one person. 

Him. 

My best friend and first everything; Andy. 

Until he left you to deal with the beatings alone so he could succeed with his band. 

Screwing my eyes shut tight to forget the sound of my dad's skin on mine, I turned the corner, and a large church and steps came into view. There were ropes blocked off around the perimeter, keeping outsiders away. As I reached a security guard, I pulled out my I.D. to show him. 

“River Murray. I’m the photographer,” I said. 

The guard glanced down to my I.D. then to the list in his hands and with a gruff of response, he let me walk past the ropes. 

“Have a great night,” I mumbled under my breath. 

Bodies were moving everywhere, and people were screaming over one another, but I was able to find the director of the shoot pretty quickly. He showed me a trailer where I could set up my things and once I was settled, I could start working. They didn’t care what pictures I shot, just as long as I got a lot of the band. 

“Who’s the band?” I asked Vincent, the director while setting my camera bag on the table inside the trailer. 

“Bloody veils? No that’s not right,” he scratched at the beard on his chin, trying to remember. “I don’t know. It's some metal band. I’ve only met them once before but they’re nice guys. It’s for their song Saviour II.” 

I nodded. “So I have free reign around here? As long as I don’t get in the shot right?” 

Vincent smiled. “You’ve worked on music video shoots before?” 

“Once or twice,” I shrugged. “I worked with Bad Omens on one and some local bands another time.” 

“Bad Omens?” He whistled low. “They’re one of the hottest bands right now. I’m surprised you aren't working with them.” 

“I dated their current photographer for a few months. He set up the shoot with them to help build up my portfolio,” I shifted on my feet, suddenly feeling uncomfortable divulging too much about my life to this stranger. 

A loud crackle and static came through Vincent’s radio. “Veil Brid-. They’re here.”

My heart stuttered in my chest for the briefest of moments but told myself to take a breath. It couldn’t be him; the radio cut off before finishing who was here, I was just in my head. 

“You’re beautiful, River,” he mused while kissing every inch of my bruised skin. 

Vincent clapped his hands which caused me to jump out of my thoughts and blinked wildly. 

“Alright, I’ve got to meet the boys and show them their trailers to get ready. Head out whenever you’re ready. There’s a radio for you on the table in case we need to communicate with you tonight.” 

“Sure,” I did my best to nod with a smile. 

Once alone, I sat on the couch in the trailer and went about assembling my camera, doing a few test shots. The past kept trying to crawl its way back into the present, doing its best to render me useless, but I wouldn’t allow it. 

Well, I tried to anyway. 

“You’re worthless.” 

“Piece of shit daughter. I should have dropped you off with your mother years ago.” 

“The only thing you’re good for is being a punching bag. But you can’t even do that right.” 

A swift kick to my ribs sent me flying across the room. 

Choking on a sob, I dug my palms into my eyes hoping that would force out those thoughts. 

“I haven’t thought of Dad in years but now he’s overtaking every part of me again,” I sighed to myself. 

Not feeling quite ready to leave the trailer yet, I fixed myself in the reflection of the mirror by tying my long black hair into a tight French braid and cleaned up my makeup a bit. The scar underneath my right eye was faint but visible to this day almost eleven years later. No matter how much makeup I wore to cover it, it was still a reminder of not only the best day of my life but also the worst day. 

“River, we need you on set.” 

“Be right there,” I said into the radio before clicking it to the belt of my jeans, and with my camera around my neck, I bounded down the steps of the trailer. 

By now the sun had set and the moon shone overhead so I stopped in my tracks for a moment to take a few shots of it before walking into the church where there was a large gathering of people. On the altar of the church were a set up of drums, guitars, an orchestra, and a microphone stand. 

After snapping a picture of it, I turned on my heels when I heard Vincent call my name. 

“River, I’d like you to meet the band. I figured you’d want to get some pictures of them before we start shooting.” 

I looked over the picture I had just taken of the drum set, something vaguely familiar about the logo, but then glanced up at the five men standing in front of me; the one in the middle with the bright gray eyes immediately catching my gaze. 

My breath caught in my throat as I nearly tripped over my feet when his jaw went slack, the familiarity slapping both of us in the face. 

“River?” 

The richness of his voice brought back all of those other memories I did my best to push away. I stood frozen, unable to move or say anything, while my brain tried to catch up on the man that stood in front of me; the one I hadn’t seen in ten years. 

The one that broke his promise. 

“Andy.”

Highschool. Senior year. One week before graduation. 

I pounded on the bedroom window as the rain assaulted me with no end in sight, drenching me from head to toe. The rain mixed with the salty tears that rolled down my cheeks as I continued to beat my palm against the glass while standing on the makeshift ladder we made of three cinder blocks. I needed a way to reach his window in times like this. There was no way I could walk through his front door looking like this where his parents could see and ask questions. 

“Damn it, Andy! Wake up!” I cried, still pounding on the window. 

The storm was a constant onslaught of rain, lightning, and thunder, so I knew it was hard for him to hear me. But that didn’t stop me. 

Finally, after a few minutes of crying and pounding on the window, Andy’s sleep-filled eyes stared at me through the curtain covering his window. I saw all the emotions run through his intense gaze. 

Confusion. 

Realization. 

And when he gave my face one long once over, the emotion that crossed the soft features of his face, I knew there was no way I’d be able to excuse my dad’s actions this time. 

Anger. 

“River,” his voice instantly soothing me when he opened the window, helping me inside. “What the fuck happened?” 

My body convulsed in shivers and I wrapped my arms around me to help keep some of my body heat. 

“I–I-I’m fi-fine,” my teeth chattered loudly in the quiet room. 

“Bullshit,” Andy spat while running a hand through his long black hair. “You’ve got a nasty cut under your eye and your lip is busted.” 

Now with the rain not washing away the blood, I could taste the bitter crimson on my lips and felt it pooling in my eye. I didn’t have to look at myself to know that the cut was deep and needed stitches. 

Typically, my dad made sure to hit me in places that I could easily hide. But tonight was different. I told him that once I graduated, I had plans to leave Ohio and move to North Carolina to start over; fresh. 

“Not with my money,” he spat.

Literally. 

When I told him I didn’t need his money and that I had other plans, he snorted while stubbing out his cigarette. 

“With that little boyfriend of yours? Sweety, he’ll drop you the second you follow him to that big fancy city.” 

“Fuck you!” I screamed. “You know nothing about Andy!” 

My cursing set him off and that's when the first slap happened, causing my busted lip. This time, I fought back, but in the end, it didn’t matter. My dad’s strength overpowered me as he threw me across the floor, face skidding along some of the broken glass from the cup I had thrown at him before. 

Hence the nasty cut underneath my eye. 

Andy’s sighing brought me back and I then noticed he was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. I’d seen him like this many times before since we were best friends but something about seeing him like this tonight, made my insides burn low. 

I’d had a crush on him since freshman year when he stepped between me and Alexa Dread from taking my camera and breaking it; again. Ever since that day, Andy and I were inseparable. We knew everything about each other and we always confided in each other about our feelings. 

Just not for each other. 

My feelings for him began to grow with each passing day but I had to watch him date girls that weren’t me with a fake smile because I needed to be happy for my best friend. 

He’d never feel the same way and that was something I came to terms with a while ago. 

My eyes grazed over the scattered ink on his arms, the random designs always taking my breath away. He was eighteen so was able to get the tattoos without the permission of his parents. 

I, however, was one month shy of turning eighteen and I’d been counting down the days. Ready to run from all of this the minute the clock struck midnight.

“Fuck, River. You’re shaking,” Andy’s hand reached for me, leading me to the adjacent bathroom off of his bedroom. 

“I d-didn’t know wh-where el-se to go-go,” I did my best to speak over my body shaking. 

He hushed me with a gentle squeeze of my hand. “You know you can always come here. You always have a place here, Riv.” 

I swallowed thickly at his nickname for me.

“You need to shower but I want to clean that cut first,” he motioned towards the soaked clothes that were clinging to me like a second skin. “Take them off.” 

I stilled at his words. While Andy had no problem walking around in his underwear around me, I, on the other hand, could not muster up that kind of courage. 

“I can’t,” I shook my head. 

His bright eyes narrowed through the thickness of his black hair. “Either you take those clothes off or I will. The last thing you need right now is to catch pneumonia.” 

Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I still didn’t make a move, which caused Andy to sigh. 

“I’ll turn around so you can undress, and keep your bra and underwear on. I’ll keep my face on yours when I clean your cut,” he reassured me with a gentle smile. 

“Okay,” I said finally. 

Before he turned around, Andy turned on the shower so the steam could fill the bathroom and keep me warm while he cleaned the cut. Staying true to his word, he turned his back to me, and as quick as I could, I ripped off the wet clothes. The sound it made falling to the tiled floor made me cringe and I covered myself with my arms. 

My bra and underwear were not cute, nothing he’d seen his past girlfriends wear, so to say I was embarrassed was an understatement. A simple pair of black cotton panties and a red bra. 

“You can turn around,” I said softly.

Andy slowly turned around and kept his eyes straight ahead on my face as he motioned to the closed toilet seat. While I sat, I watched his back muscles contort as he rummaged around underneath the sink for the first aid kit. 

“Won't your parents wonder why you’re taking a shower at two in the morning?” I asked. 

He snorted his laughter, still rummaging underneath the sink. “They would never question why their teenage son would be taking a shower in the middle of the night.” 

“Huh?” I said, utterly confused. 

Andy glanced up at me from his kneeling position with his brows raised and a playful smirk. Suddenly, it clicked on what he meant. 

“Oh, right,” I muttered low; the image of his hand around his cock pumping it slowly then fast replaying in my mind like a movie. 

I’d never seen him do that but I’d thought about it a handful of times. 

“This might sting a bit,” Andy said, kneeling in front of me now; his eyes remaining on my face. 

“I’ve had worse,” I tried to joke but the stern look from him made my shoulders fall and I muttered an apology. 

“You need to leave home, River,” he said while soaking a cotton pad in peroxide. 

I shook my head. “And go where? I have no money and no other relatives that will take me in.” 

“You know my parents will let you stay in the guest room for as long as you need.” 

I snorted. “Right. I don’t think your girlfriend would like the idea of me staying down the hall from you.” 

Andy’s eyes snapped away from the cotton ball to my face. “We broke up.” 

I did my best to keep a straight face when my heart nearly soared out of my chest. 

“When?” 

“The other day. She wanted to have sex and I said no so she broke up with me,” his voice told me that he wasn't upset about it. 

My brows furrowed together. “You said no to sex with Ashley Jenks? You’re not sick are you?” 

I made a play of touching his forehead with the back of my hand, our laughter echoing in the small bathroom. 

“No,” he grabbed my hand, not letting it go right away. “I’m not going to give my virginity to the first girl that throws themself at me. Or in this case, the fourth.” 

I blinked. “You’re still a virgin?” 

Andy finally let go of my hand and I frowned at the loss of warmth. 

“I know it’s shocking but call me old school. I’m waiting until I find the right person.” 

Our eyes met in an intense battle of who would look away first but neither of us was faltering. 

“I am too,” I said quietly. 

For the briefest of moments, I saw his eyes widen before he played it off by holding up the soaked cotton ball. 

“I’m sorry for the sting.” 

I urged him on with a nod and didn’t even flinch when the cool liquid met my skin finally as Andy cleaned the cut on my cheek. Silence fell between us as he then cleaned the dried blood on my face and when his warm breath fanned over the cut to dry it, I nearly melted into him; skin rising with goosebumps. 

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” he murmured while looking closely at the cut. 

I sucked in a breath when I realized his lips were mere meters from mine and dared a glance down to his full lips. They were practically begging to be kissed and I wanted to be the one to do it. 

“I’ll put a bandaid on it after my shower,” I said. 

With me still sitting on the toilet and Andy kneeling in front of me, I spread my legs wide so he was able to get as close as he could to cleaning the cut. Now that he was finished, it was as if he had no idea where to place his hands so they rested on the wall behind me, his long body leaning over me. 

“You’re not going back tonight, River,” his voice was deep as he stared down at me. 

With shaking fingers, I brushed away the strands of hair from his face so I could see those gray eyes. 

“I know.” 

I tracked the movement of his Adam's apple as it bobbed low when he swallowed, his eyes finally grazing lower than my face. Down to the swell of my breasts and the slight pudge of skin around my stomach. 

I wasn't the skinniest of girls, another reason why I was bullied, but Andy never commented on it. 

“You should get in the shower,” his voice broke the trance between us. “Your lips are blue.” 

When his finger ghosted over my mouth, I let out a soft moan desperately wanting to feel the pressure of his touch everywhere. 

Suddenly like a ghost, Andy had vanished from the bathroom back into his bedroom, leaving me all alone. Since the door was now shut, I rose from the toilet and stripped out of my remaining clothes. 

The hot water stung like a blade against my sore skin and I groaned out in pleasure. I didn’t want to take a long shower only because the water had already been running for a while before stepping beneath it. I washed away the memories of today with Andy’s soap and wrapped a towel around me after I stepped out of the shower. 

“Shit, what am I supposed to wear?” I grumbled to myself.

Slowly opening the bathroom door, the light burst into Andy’s bedroom and lit up his form lounging on his bed reading a Batman comic. 

“Andy,” I said while shuffling my feet and clutching the towel close to my chest. “I don’t have any clothes.” 

Setting the comic down, he hopped off the bed and went across the room, opening the drawers of his dresser to pull out a pair of boxers and a shirt. 

“We’ll swing by your house at some point tomorrow to grab you some clothes. You’ll stay here for the weekend,” he said while standing in front of me.

I took the clothes with one hand. “Thank you.” 

Before in the bathroom, Andy made sure not to look at the bruises covering my skin but now, he made sure to take in every single one that he could see. 

The fingers imprinted around my neck. 

The bruise on my shoulder, left arm, and legs. 

These were the ones that he could see. The ones underneath the towel around me were worse. 

His jaw ticked with the anger he so desperately tried to keep within, knowing that one outburst from him would cause me to fall into myself. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I whispered. 

Andy’s eyes were dark but his voice was gentle. “Let me see all of it.” 

I vigorously shook my head. “I’m fine, Andy. I just want to get dressed and go to sleep.” 

All at once, I felt my body being pressed up against the wall and the towel falling to the floor at my feet. Andy’s gaze ignited as he pressed his hips against mine causing a shockwave throughout my body. His clothed cock brushed along my bare clit and I let out a moan while my eyes fluttered shut. 

“Riv.”

My eyes snapped open when I felt his hand cup my cheek. Tears burned at the corners and he gently wiped them away with the pad of his thumb. 

“Please,” I begged. “Don’t look. They’re ugly. I’m ugly.” 

The burning anger in his iris softened at my cries but still kept me locked in place against the wall with his hips. 

“You’re beautiful, angel,” he admitted with a steady voice. 

Angel. 

It was Andy’s nickname for me ever since sophomore year when I dressed up as a fallen angel for Halloween. We were too old to go trick or treating but not cool enough for parties so we both decided to get dressed up and spend the night in his basement getting drunk. 

It was also the night I had my first kiss. We were sitting on the couch in his basement, a few drinks in, and I had my head resting on Andy’s shoulder trying so hard to stay awake for the horror movie he put on. When I looked up at him, I was shocked to see that he was already staring at me and the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine. It was a short kiss, over before I could enjoy it. 

“Shit, sorry,” he apologized. “I drank too much.”

We never talked about that kiss after that night, both of us burying it away; much to my dismay. 

“I’m not,” I cast my eyes away from him. 

His warm breath fanned across the crook of my neck as he peppered kisses on the bruises there. 

“Let me show you.” 

Yet again our eyes locked with intensity, so fierce it set the space around us on fire. Andy’s hand moved down my cheek, over my neck, and the space between my breasts. I bit back a moan when his finger and thumb rolled one of my perked nipples between them. 

“Will you let me show you?” He asked, nuzzling his face in my neck. 

I licked my lips. “What about waiting for the right person?” 

“She’s already in front of me,” Andy admitted before crashing his lips to mine. 

My body had come alive with his touch and everything I wanted since freshman year was coming to fruition. Andy wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Our lips synced together perfectly, never missing a beat, as he lifted me and carried me to his bed. 

That night, we both gave each other something we held so dear to ourselves. Afterward, as we lay together with our naked bodies tangled underneath his sheets, Andy pressed a kiss to my forehead when I cried in his chest, scared to go back home once Monday morning came. 

“I hate being alone there. I’m afraid he’ll go too far and kill me.” 

“You don’t ever have to be alone, River,” his soothing voice cooed in my ear as he cupped my cheek. 

I looked up at him through the tears and choked on a sob. “Promise you’ll stay with me?”

He smiled that smile I fell in love with years ago. “I promise.” 

Andy lied. 

Four days later, he packed up his entire life and moved to Hollywood without a simple goodbye. 

PRESENT DAY. 

“River?” 

I blinked while shaking my head, trying to gather my bearings again. The past had sucked me in whole, forcing me to relive that night over again. I couldn't believe Any was standing in front of me again after all these years, the moonlight breaking through the stained glass windows of the church bathed him in a glow made for kings. Even though he looked different than the last time I’d seen him, with more tattoos and shorter hair; tonight he had a small white patch in his hair. I could vaguely make out the old lip-piercing hole and I remembered how the cool metal tasted against my tongue when we kissed. 

He, along with the guys around him, were dressed in their outfits for the video, so I was able to see the tattoos that littered his neck, chest, and stomach. However, those eyes were still the same. 

Those haunting gray eyes stared into the soul I previously just captured again as he waited for me to say something. 

Do I play it off like I don't remember him? 

Right, like you could forget the guy that took your virginity. 

Do I ignore him and go about work like a professional? 

How is ignoring the person you’re supposed to be working with professional? 

I was starting to grow tired of the little voice inside my head. 

Vincent glanced between Andy and me, pointing a finger. “Do you two know each other?” 

“We went to high school together,” Andy answered before I could. 

“No shit,” Vincent chuckled. “What a small world.” 

“Right,” I snorted venomously. 

Andy’s eyes sliced into me but I ignored him by giving him my back and looking over at Vincent. 

“I’ll get shots of them later. Radio me when you’re ready.” 

When he nodded, I took that as my cue to leave although I made it only a few steps before my name was called from behind. 

“You’re not even going to say hello, Riv.” 

I spun so fast on my heels, the end of my braid snapped to the other side of my face and I pointed a finger at Andy. 

“I’m not doing this with you. Not here and especially not right now. Both of us have a job to do. Let’s keep it that way.” 

One of the guys next to Andy watched us carefully and I could practically see the light click on above his head. 

“Wait, River as in River from high school,” the guy said. 

“Yeah, Jinxx,” Andy answered before taking a step towards me. 

I took a large step away from him. “I already said I’m here to do my job, that’s it.” 

Before he could try and sweet talk his way into my life, just like that night, I turned back around and marched out of the church, calling back that I was going to take some shots of it. 

Once outside, I let the cold night air brush the hot tears away from my face as my heart nearly burst out from my chest, sobs echoing throughout the vastness of the sky. 

No. This cannot be happening. 

For the last nine years, I spent my life crying over that man, wondering what I did wrong that night to make him leave me behind. He promised to stay with me but still left. 

Was I not good enough? Worthy of being by his side? 

Nine years I spent stuck in Ohio wondering why with the bitter taste of Hennessy, drinking away my sorrows and regrets. It wasn’t until a year ago when I finally questioned myself in the reflection of the bottle that I took whatever money I had left from selling my father's house after he died to move across the county to California. 

The last year I spent building myself up to the women I was now and creating my career empire with my photography. I refused to let the past crumble everything I worked so hard for; no matter how good he looked now or how bad I wanted to taste his lips again. 

“Get a hold of yourself,” I seethed. “He left you.” 

The sound of music from inside blasted through the walls of the church letting me know that they started shooting and choosing not to dwell on Andy showing back up into my life, I took a few shots of the church outside. Then I reluctantly walked back inside knowing I couldn’t avoid him forever and decided to get some pictures of the guys. 

Andy’s eyes quickly found me but I did my best to ignore him by hiding behind my camera. His voice erupted through the speakers and it brought back every single time during music class in high school when he would sing in front of the class or solo for me in his bedroom. 

My bottom lip trembled as I blew out a shaky breath while walking over to where Vincent sat, just as he yelled cut. 

“Did you get your shots?” He wondered. 

Clicking back through all of the pictures, I pursed my lips at the realization that while I got great shots of the other band members, I hadn’t gotten any shots of Andy mostly because I avoided him at all costs. 

“I need some of Andy,” I said with a long breath. 

“No problem. I think we got everything we need with this scene. Next up is the scene of him sitting in the pew alone so you can get them now,” Vincent patted my shoulder as he stood from the chair. 

“Lovely,” I grumbled while walking back towards the altar of the church directly in Andy’s path. 

He was talking with one of his band members but when he caught sight of me, he met me halfway. 

“Riv,” he began. 

“Don’t,” I seethed, walking past him. “You lost the right to call me that when you left me.” 

“Can I explain please?” Andy asked while reaching for my elbow. 

I yanked it out of his grasp, ready to move to the opposite side of the church when his voice halted me. 

“Angel.” 

Whirling around so fast, I nearly dropped my camera to the ground when I pushed him in his chest. 

“Don’t you fucking ever call me that again!” I nearly screamed. “You don’t have the right to call me that.” 

Anytime I heard that name, all I would think about was our first kiss and the night we slept together. 

His eyes softened, almost begging me to listen. “Please, angel. I have to explain-.” 

“NO!” My voice echoed inside the church. “There’s nothing to explain, Andy. Anything that comes out of your mouth is a lie.” 

“Do you guys need a moment?” Vincent’s voice carried over to us. 

“No!” 

“Yes!” 

Andy and I both said at the same time. 

“You know what, I think a break is a good idea. Let’s take thirty and come back,” Vincent directed to everyone with a wave of a finger. 

Having every intention of spending that thirty minutes alone in my trailer, I brushed past Andy and nearly tripped over my feet as I ran down the concrete steps, the vision of my solace getting closer and closer. Just before I could slam the door shut behind me, it closed on a body with an audible ouch. 

“Leave me alone, Andy!” I yelled. 

He stood tall in the small confines of the trailer, his broad chest heaving with each deep breath from chasing after me. His bare chest underneath his opened jacket and for a second, I allowed myself to study those visible tattoos. The eagle on his sternum, the sword in the crease of his stomach, the tiger neck to it. I couldn’t make out the tattoo across his neck or chest but I could make out the 26 in a hear on his neck.  

“Not until you let me explain,” he said. 

I grabbed the end of my braid, ripping it out so my dark hair could fall around my shoulders. 

“I swear to fucking God himself, if you say explain one more time I’m going to-.” 

“Do what, angel?” He raised a brow while resting his hands on his hips. 

I pointed to the door. “Get out.”

Andy didn’t move. 

“You're unbelievable,” I growled while making a beeline for the door instead, only to have him block my path. 

“I had to leave.” 

I blinked up at him, mouth agape. “What?” 

We were so close now, his familiar scent encasing me with its vise grip, and my mind kept screaming at me to create space. 

He ran a hand over his short hair and took a deep breath. “I had to leave. That Monday morning after you left, I got a call from an agent in Los Angeles offering me a small gig in a commercial. It's what I needed to get my foot in the door, to get Black Veil Brides started, so I took it. But I had to be out there the day after they called me.” 

“So you left me behind, without a single fucking goodbye,” I sneered, pushing past him to the other side of the trailer. 

“I didn’t have a choice!” Andy’s voice was raised now, it echoing off the walls. 

“You could have told me! You know I would have followed you!” I shot back. 

He began pacing the narrow space while having his hands on his hips. “I couldn’t, River. Not without knowing that everything would have paid off in the end. I couldn’t have you with me while I suffered.” 

I chuckled dryly. “Oh but suffering back home alone was fine with you?” 

“I wanted to reach out and check on how you were doing,” his shoulders slumped. 

“My number has been the same,” I held out my hands. “I lived in the same fucking house for nine years after you left. You could have come to see me.”

When he said nothing, his lips unmoving, I grew angrier and pushed his chest, ten years of holding everything in finally exploding. 

“You lied!” 

Push. 

“You left me with him to beat on me for another three fucking years until he died!”

Push. 

“You made me a promise and broke it!” 

I cried with one final push, causing Andy to fall back onto the couch, stormy eyes staring up at me. Tears were streaming down my face and my eyes burned with anger for the man in front of me. 

“You told me you would never leave me,” I snarled through gritted teeth. “You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did.” 

When he reached for my hand, I smacked it away. 

“Please, angel,” he begged. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. But I wasn’t in the best place. I couldn’t have you be with me, seeing all that shit. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“Just tell me all you wanted from me was sex so I can finally put the nail in the coffin, Andy,” I said with a shaky breath. 

His face fell. “That’s not even remotely true, River.” 

“It doesn’t matter anyway. After tonight, you’ll go back to your band and life as a rockstar.” 

With my back turned, I gathered my camera and was ready to get back to work when an arm wrapped around me from behind. 

“Come with me, angel,” Andy’s soft voice brushed along the shell of my ear. 

When I felt myself falling into his embrace, almost ready to give in, I pushed away from him. He made me so mad I could throw something at him. My camera or the chair. 

Myself. 

“You’re insane,” I shook my head.  

He linked our hands together so I could face him, the pleading bright in his eyes. “Give me a chance to make up for the last ten years.” 

I stared blankly at him, trying to determine if this was a cruel trick. 

“You don’t deserve my time, Andy. What we used to have is gone, you can’t fix it or try to bring it back.” 

“You’re not even going to let me try?” He asked. 

“Why should I? So that you can break my heart again? You don’t realize how much of myself I gave to you; parts I can never take back. You were my first kiss!” I raised my voice. 

He blinked. “I didn’t know that.” 

I scoffed while shaking my head again. “Of course you didn’t, Andy. Because you never brought it up again. You blamed it on the alcohol that night. What’s your excuse for the night we lost our virginity to each other?” 

Before Andy could speak, I waved him off and headed towards the door of the trailer. 

“It’s not even worth it anymore,” I muttered with my hand on the handle. 

Suddenly in a whirlwind, I felt myself being hoisted up and pressed against the bathroom door. Those dark gray eyes were reading my face, assessing every movement of my gaze as it burned into him. Andy held my hands pinned to my sides and kept me locked into place with his hips. The imprint of his cock was felt against the material of my leggings and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the moan quiet. 

It’d been so long since I felt his touch and I was ready to throw out everything, all of my morals, just to have him again. 

“River,” his hand cupped my cheek, the coolness of his rings almost a shock to my warm skin. 

I said nothing, simply glaring up at him with a clenched jaw. 

“Riv. Come with me.” 

AnDy breathed over my lips and I nearly lost it. But I still kept strong, not wanting to be the first one to falter. I worked so hard to build myself back up after he left and there was no way I could allow myself to fall. 

Not again. 

His thumb lifted my chin, keeping it locked in his grip, and his eyes dropped to my lips; a silent question. 

“Fuck you,” I spat. 

Something dark flashed in Andy’s eyes as a sinister smirk played on his lips. One that I recognized all too well even though it was never directed at me.

“I don’t ever remember you being such a brat,” he tsked. 

I swallowed thickly, unsure how the tension between us went from anger to sexual, but at that moment with him eyeing me hungrily, I didn’t want to question it. 

“How could you remember? You’ve been gone for ten years,” I shot back. 

Andy pressed his hips harder against me and this time I wasn’t able to hold back the moan. It slipped through my lips with sheer pleasure and I let my head fall against the door behind me. 

“I wasn’t drunk the night we slept together, River,” Andy’s hand wrapped around my neck, thumb now on my pulse point. “Or that entire weekend.” 

My cheeks flushed when I remembered we had sex multiple times that weekend. We never left his bedroom and thankfully, his parents left the next morning for a friend's wedding so they had no idea I was there. 

“All I ever wanted was you,” his voice was low. 

I raised my chin at him. “You have a funny way of showing it.” 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, an action I watched intently, and then his voice dropped even lower. Those usually bright eyes were dark and it made the air thick, heated, and full of spice. It made it harder to breathe as his grip tightened around my throat slightly.  

“Let me show you.” 

Those four words sent both of us back to his bedroom during high school and just like that night, I succumbed to the darkness that was Andy Biersack; consequences be damned. 

“Are you still waiting for the right person?” My question was a breath over his lips. 

A low noise rumbled in Andy’s chest as his hand gripped behind my neck, yanking my mouth to his. 

“She’s right in front of me.” 

Every single doubt and fight I had within me vanished the second our lips touched, those familiar fireworks exploding. My hands were all over Andy; his neck, chest, ribs, and back as they sneaked underneath his jacket. While one of his hands continued to grip the back of my neck, the other held tight on my hip so I couldn’t leave. 

As if I wanted to. 

Our tongues molded together and he swallowed my moan when his teeth bit down on my bottom lip. For a moment, reality struck with clarity and I pushed Andy off of me, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. 

“You need to leave,” I warned, breathless. 

His lips were kiss swollen and his jacket was falling off of his shoulders as those stormy eyes never left my lips. 

“Do you want that? Because if you do, I’ll leave right now.” 

When I remained silent, Andy smirked while grasping the back of my head to crash his lips on mine again, this time with more hunger. It was as if he was a man starved, desperate for his last meal. 

“You need to go,” I groaned when his lips began trailing down my chin and neck. 

“Go where?” He asked. “Here?” 

A gentle bite to the shell of my ear. 

“Or here?” 

A kiss on the sensitive part of my skin between my neck and shoulder which caused me to shiver in his embrace. 

“What about here, angel? Do you want me here?” 

The head of his cock brushed along my clit from underneath our clothes and I nearly fell at his feet until Andy’s strong arms lifted me to carry me over to the small twin-size bed on the other end of the trailer. 

“It’s like we're back in my childhood bedroom with this small ass bed,” he grumbled.

I fell onto the cheap mattress with a slight giggle but it was hushed with Andy consuming me once more. My entire soul went up in a fiery blaze when he began rutting his hips into me and it was as if we were a couple of teenagers again making out and thinking that was the best part of it. We couldn’t keep our hands off of each other as I helped him out of his jacket and he all but ripped my sweater off, leaving me in an olive green bralette. 

His eyes darkened before he left teeth marks between the swell of my breasts, lapping up his saliva and dried sweat from the day and I raked my nails through the buzzed hair. 

“I miss your long hair,” I gasped, feeling his tongue slip between the material of my bra and catching my nipple. 

“I’ve missed the way you tasted, River,” Andy mused while kissing his way back up to my lips.

This time the kiss was slow, as if we had the rest of our lives together and there was no need to rush anything. It was like he was trying to imprint me into him, never wanting to forget anything again. 

I reached for the button on his pants, pulling down the zipper to slip my hand inside, palming his hard cock. 

Holy. Shit. 

It was a lot thicker than ten years ago. 

“Shit, Riv,” he cursed when I squeezed him. “Just like that.” 

I did it a few more times while his forehead fell to my chest, panting his warm breath over my skin. I lifted his face with my other hand to kiss him again, the savageness poured out of him. 

The room smelled of our desperation as I shimmied out of my leggings while he stepped out of his pants, after unhooking my bra and tossing it over his shoulder. As Andy stood at the end of the bed, I let my eyes rake over every defined muscle of his body; tongue begging for a simple taste of the ink on his skin and the head of his cock that was almost slipping through his briefs; the black briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide his arousal. 

Rising to my knees on the bed, I ran my palm over his cock again, his entire body shivering underneath my touch.

"Fuck, angel,” Andy groaned before his teeth grasped at my bottom lip, yanking it away from me. 

I hissed in pleasure, the taste of copper lingering on my tongue.

"Did you-." I licked my bottom lip and then tilted my head to the side. "Did you just bite me?"

Andy pushed me back down on the bed so he could take in the sight of me bare for him; those stormy eyes were now clear with only one thing. 

Heat. 

“I can’t believe I went ten years without this,” he muttered to himself while stepping out of his briefs, his cock finally springing free. 

I licked my lips at the sight of it, salivating for a taste of the precum that he smeared over the head. But instead, I felt like being a brat with Andy, not allowing him to think I wasn’t still upset with him. 

“It’s your own fucking fault,” I shot back with a sly smirk, resting on my elbows. 

My squeals echoed in the trailer when Andy flipped my tiny frame over on the mattress so my ass was exposed to his palm, a hard strike falling onto it. I writhed against the bed when another harsh strike came down on my ass, my mewls of pleasure being drowned out by the pillow. 

“You’re such an ass,” I seethed when the spankings stopped. 

Andy palmed my reddened cheek while looming over my back, his breath warm on my neck. 

“Do you still like it rough, River?” His question was heavy on his tongue. 

That weekend we spent together, I divulged what kind of kinks I might have been into due to my own research. Andy let me try things with him while I did the same and needless to say, all these years later he still knew exactly what my body needed to come alive for him. 

Instead of answering, I raised my hips from the bed with his name falling from my lips in a whine full of desperation. Andy had barely touched me but the wetness between my legs was warm and sticky.

I needed this release more than oxygen. 

"What do you want from me?" His fingers dragged up my slick folds from his position behind me before slipping one inside, the feeling of his rings making me stiffen. 

My head was turned to the side so I could gaze up at him over my shoulder. However, he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were trained hard on his finger pumping in and out of my pussy, the sounds of my arousal overpowering the sounds of my panting. Seeing the desperation on his face as he tried to hold himself back made me push my ass closer to Andy. 

“Use your words, Riv,” he ordered while flicking his eyes to me for a moment. 

I shook my head, words foreign when he slipped another finger inside of me, spreading them wide like a V. 

“Did you forget how to speak?” 

Andy clicked his tongue against his teeth, ready to pull his fingers out when my begging halted him. 

"You. I just want you."

The bed shifted behind me when I noticed Andy disappear only to feel the wetness of his tongue press against my pussy to lick my arousal. The sharpness of his teeth scraped along my clit as he buried his face deeper into the sweet spot between my legs. 

“You still taste so good, River,” he mused, pressing gentle kisses on the inside of my thigh. 

“Don’t stop,” I all but whined, wanting to feel his tongue again. 

Andy ate me out from behind with both hands on my hips, continuing to keep me in place as my body writhed on the bed from the onslaught of his mouth. When his lips wrapped around my clit to suck hard on the sensitive bud, I screamed out his name. 

“Andy,” I drowned it out with a moan. “It’s so good. I’m so close.” 

With the indication my orgasm was on the brink of collapse, he slipped a finger inside of me again. While his mouth was a rough attack on my clit, his finger was a gentle caress of my inner walls with slow strokes. Sheer ecstasy was slowly building at the base of my spine, warming up all of my senses until I felt like I could combust at any moment. Andy flicked his tongue over my clit and I buried my face into the pillow, the musky scent of my wellness tickling my nose as my body shook out my orgasm. My cries of release sounded like music to Andy’s ears as he hummed in praise, drinking up my arousal as it gushed over his tongue and fingers. 

It had been so long since I had an orgasm that wasn’t brought on by my hand or a toy. I lay limp on the bed, breathless, as the after-shocks slowly began to fade along with the hazy bright lights, my soul returning from wherever it retreated to. I barely felt the kisses upon my thigh and then lower back as Andy dragged a finger down my spine. 

“Still on birth control?” He asked, lust gone from his voice for a second. 

I nodded while glancing over my shoulder and seeing my arousal coating his lips. The sight was so intoxicating that I almost uttered those three words that plagued my existence since I first met him. 

“River,” he tapped my back, bringing me out of my thoughts. 

“Implant,” I replied. 

My head leaned back in pure bliss when Andy dug his nails into my hips as he pressed himself past my wetness, the thickness of his cock filling me. It twitched inside of me, earning a disgustingly desperate groan from me. 

It felt nothing like it did ten years ago. It felt better. 

Andy left no space between us as he held us in place on the small mattress and I tried to move my hips in his grip. It was so rough, I knew I would have bruises later but frankly, I didn’t care. All I cared about was how good it felt to have him inside of me again. 

“So tight, angel. I can’t-.” 

His eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted to an 'O' shape when I rocked my hips against him with my swollen clit rubbing against the cool blanket and I shivered at the sensation. Everything from our fight to our kiss sent me in a spiral of pure ecstasy and I felt the coil in my stomach pulling tight again. My previous orgasm was still lingering and it didn’t take long before I felt that familiar tingly feeling in my spine. 

“Andy, I’m going to-.” 

Still inside of me, he managed to flip me over so now I was staring up at those dark eyes; pupils blown wide with lust. Now, Andy didn’t hold back as he hooked my leg up and around his shoulder so he could thrust in a deeper angle. 

“Oh god,” I closed my eyes, the new sensation causing the coil to hurt. 

“Eyes on me, River!” He snapped with a low growl and I immediately obeyed. "You're so fucking beautiful, angel. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry it’s been ten years.” 

I didn’t want to hear his apology. I only wanted to have that coil spring free with my second orgasm. I attacked his lips with such force Andy had to hold himself up with one hand on the headboard, the other slipping between the place where our bodies met to play with my clit; exactly how I liked. Our tongues explored each other's mouths in a kiss so vicious it made my head spin.  Andy’s pace was erratic and merciless but it didn’t stop me from begging. 

"More," I mumbled into his lips.

That's all he needed before he maneuvered us so he sat in the middle of the bed with me in his lap and he held me closer to his chest as his hips snapped up into me in violent strokes, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot. I yelled out my pleasure, exposing my neck to Andy who immediately attacked it with his teeth leaving bite marks all along the skin sticky with sweat.

My body hummed in a prayer-like awaking, the flames and heat burning high in my belly as my organs crested higher; so fucking high I was afraid I would combust into nothing but matter in the air. His name fell from my lips in devotion, a woman praying to her God, and my toes curled as the orgasm ripped through me with so much force I screamed out in pure nirvana.

“I love you, River,” Andy professed with a strangled breath as he spilled himself inside of me, cock throbbing with his release. 

“What did you say?” I questioned, almost unsure if I had heard him correctly. 

He cupped my cheek, eyes softening. “I love you.” 

My bottom lip trembled at those three words; the words I wanted to hear for years. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” Andy brushed away my hair from my face. “But it’s true. I’m at a better place where now admitting it out loud doesn't scare me.”

We stayed like that, bodies tangled together in the silence for a few long moments until he laid us on the bed. I very quickly detached myself from him so I could put some space between us. 

Although he admitted how he felt, I wasn't ready to yet. I knew that I loved him ever since high school, but it was my turn to be afraid of what would happen if I admitted it out loud.

Instead, I remained silent while lying on my stomach on the bed, resting my chin on my hand to gaze down at his tattoos again. One of them immediately caught my attention and I smiled at it, a fond memory cresting to the surface. 

“I remember being with you when you got this,” I whispered while trailing a finger over the black and yellow Batman logo on his arm. 

“I still have the comics you got me for my birthday,” he said while propping his arm behind his head. 

My heart skipped at that because it meant that he was thinking of me during our time away.

“But you couldn’t come to see me,” I muttered under my breath as I turned from him. 

Andy reached for me to pull my back to his chest and lock me into place with a leg over my hips. His left hand grazed up and down my arm, sending shivers all over my skin, and I let out a soft breath. 

“Will you stay with me, River?”

I sat on his question for a few long beats, letting it sink in if it was something I truly wanted. My life in Hollywood wasn’t set in place, I’d always been on the move. But the thought of uprooting everything to be with Andy scared the shit out of me. How could I trust that he won’t leave me again? 

Then why did you sleep with him? You plan on leaving after this, so you’re no better than him.

“Why now?” I sat up to gaze down at him, his arm falling away from me. “How come now you want to make things work between us?” 

He hesitated with inner turmoil eating away inside as he slowly sat up and ran a hand over his short hair. 

“I was married for six years. The divorce was finalized last year.” 

My heart sank into the depths of my stomach; no farther. It fell straight to Tartarus. 

“We were together for a total of eight years but the longer our relationship went on I began to realize it wasn’t what I wanted. Who I wanted,” Andy explained. 

There was absolutely no reason for me to be upset with him because while he was married, I had been casually dating. None of them were ever serious enough to last more than a few months. But it still caused an ache in my heart. 

“Then why did you stay with her for as long as you did?” I asked. 

Andy has a soft smile. “I loved her, in a different way than I love you. But sometimes that kind of love isn’t enough. Not when someone else held my heart first.” 

Tears burned in my eyes and I blew out a shaky breath. “If that were true, Andy, then you would have come to me first. You wouldn’t have gotten married.”

Removing myself from his grasp, I began slipping on my discarded pieces of clothing while he continued to sit in bed, naked. 

“I’m not saying I’m perfect, River. But I’ve grown a lot in the last few years. The Andy you used to know wouldn’t have been good for you.” 

“And now?” I asked with my hands on my hips. 

The smile that played on his lips grew wider. “Now, I would love to have you come on the road with me. We leave in a few days for our North America leg then jump overseas for a few weeks. Plenty of time to make up for old times and prove I’ve changed.” 

I laughed. “You want me to stop what I’m doing here to come follow you? Give up potential jobs? Just to be your roadie?” 

Andy’s jaw twitched but with a deep breath, he gathered himself from the bed and stepped back into his briefs and pants. 

“You can be our photographer. I’ll talk it over with our management team, that way you can be getting paid.” 

I pursed my lips in consideration because his offer was a pretty good one. But was it worth spending all that time together?

You love and miss him. 

I sighed at the voice in my head, knowing it was true. Seeing him again brought up all the old feelings I spent years burying, trying to forget, and it was clear that Andy still felt the same.  

“You remember all the plans we made? When we were hoping for better days? You wanted to become a photographer and I wanted to sing in a band. We have that now. What’s stopping you from saying yes?” He took a small step towards me. 

“The promise you betrayed,” I said flatly.  

Andy’s shoulders fell. “You don’t have to forgive me for leaving you, Riv. But I swear to you that if you come with me, I will spend every day from here on out proving to you that you’re all I want.” 

When I didn’t say anything, he wrapped his arms around me and oh so gently, laid a kiss on my lips. 

“I love you, River Murray,” he professed. “We can start over; fresh. But only if this is something you want. If not, then we can both leave with some closure and go our separate ways.” 

I couldn’t explain the way my heart physically ached with the thought of leaving tonight and forgetting about Andy. Even with all the anger and hurt, I couldn't imagine acting like tonight didn’t happen. Maybe there was a small possibility that we could work through our issues, gain that trust back, and finally find what we were desperate to have. 

But the betrayal weighed heavy in my soul along with the fear of Andy doing it again, only this time while I was with him and leaving me stranded. 

“River, if you’re with Andy, can you have him come to set? We’re ready to start again.” 

I jumped at the sudden loud crackle of the radio, Vincent’s voice breaking through the clouds of confusion. 

With a sigh, Andy slipped back into his shoes and jacket. 

“Let’s get back to work, yeah? We can talk more about this on the next break,” he said. 

I swallowed the waver in my voice as it broke. “I’m actually going to sit here for a bit since I’m not needed right now.”

Andy’s thumb brushed along the soft skin of my cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, angel.” 

He left me with a kiss on the cheek and for the first time since reuniting with Andy, I fell to the ground with sobs wracking my body. Everything I worked hard to overcome was shattered by those three words and his offer. It terrified me to completely allow him in again but I also didn’t want to let him go. 

The decision was made in an instant as I rose from the floor, hastily wiping away the tears, and gathered my things together. I knew what I chose would have repercussions, some I may never recover from, but as the door of the trailer slammed behind me, it would be alright. Because my heart said it would be. 

[sunlitsunflowers]

A Little Bit Easier

Jake Seresin x reader

Word Count: 893

Warnings: descriptions of feeling overwhelmed

Summary: you get overwhelmed at the hard deck and Jake comforts you

The Hard Deck was busy, a sea of bodies all packed into the space. People jostling each other trying to move around, practically shouting to hear each other over the music and other patrons.

You were trying to focus on your friend group, on the game of pool Fanboy was spectacularly loosing, you really were. But you could hear it all. Each conversation, the loud obnoxious laughter, the clinking of glass. Hell you could even hear the buzzing of electricity coming from the overhead lights and the odd clicking of the ceiling fan that was spinning lazily. It was a lot.

It was too much.

You turn to Bob who was perched next to you watching the pool game unfold.

"Hey, I'm just going to head outside for a minute. I need a bit of air" you say trying to keep your voice light and an easy smile on your face. Bob looked at you concerned, you definitely didn't succeed on pretending you were all right but you were hoping Bob would let it go.

He was about to open his mouth when Coyote's voice jumps out of the crowd, "I need some actual competition here and seeing as Hangman isn't playing. Bob you're up!"

A pool cue is thrust into Bobs hands and you take that as the perfect opportunity to make an exit. What you didn't realise was a certain blonde pilot had been watching the entire interaction. To be completely honest Jake had been watching you the entire night. He couldn't help it, his eyes look for you in every room he walks into. But he'd seen the shift in you when the bar started to get more crowded, the voices a little louder. He saw the way you drew back from the group, the way you were gripping onto your drink like it was the only thing keeping you tied to the floor, the way you would flinch when a particularly loud laugh would cut through the crowd, the panic in your eyes as people pushed passed. He saw it all.

Jake waited a minute as he watched you weave your way out of the bar before placing his drink down and following your path. When he got outside what he saw broke his heart.

You leant against the wall of the Hard Dark; your hands clenched, body shaking, breaths coming out in rapid puffs. Your eyes screwed shut as you desperately willed for your breathing to slow, you didn't notice the concerned Jake who stood before you.

"Sweetheart" Jake said, his voice low and smooth as he tried not to scare you. Your eyes snap to his, wide and brimming with tears, the panic evident.

It hurt Jake to see you like this. Slowly he took a step towards you, "oh, sweetheart."

He itched to reach out and pull you into him but he didn't know whether that was what you needed. But your body seemed to have made the decision for the both of you because as Jake stepped towards you, your body jerked off the wall and stumbled into him. Jake was quick to steady you as he wrapped his strong arms around you.

"There we go, I've got you. You're okay," he spoke into your hair.

Jake continued to speak reassurances, while tracing slow circles on your back. You don't know how long you stood there, but wrapped in Jake's arms the noise from the bar slowly fades as the rest of the world disappears.

"Jake" you breathe out, your voice barely a whisper. Your face pressed against his chest and all you can hear is the steady beating of his heart which is helping to calm the racing of yours. The soft rise and fall of his chest helping you to even out your rapid breaths. You're about to say his name again, thinking he didn't hear you when he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"Yeah, darlin'," he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your forehead.

"I just wanted to say thank you." You take a deep breath, allowing the smell of Jake's cologne and the sea air to fill your lungs.

"You make breathing a little bit easier" you whisper so quietly you doubt Jake could even hear them. You weren't sure if you wanted Jake to have heard you. To hear you breathing out a secret whilst wrapped in his arms.

You go to pull away, to head back into the busyness of the bar, but as you do Jake draws you tightly into his chest, trying to squeeze out any amount of space between the two of you. He presses his lips to your forehead, as his arms pull you impossibly close, like he's scared that if he lets go you'll disappear. You burrow into him further, even though there isn't any further for you to go, hoping that he understands that you aren't going anywhere.

"I love you" the words so quiet you barely hear them. Words that fill you with warmth. Words that make you want to dance around because Jake Seresin loves you. You don't, instead you turn and place a kiss over his heart.

"I love you too" then turning your gaze back towards the ocean you smile; happy to stay here forever. The steady beating of your hearts sharing the same rhythm.

[bokettochild]

Bit of a weird question, but how do you think Legend (or any of the Links, really) would handle getting separated once the quest is over?

I'm personally of the opinion that he and Warriors would be the ones to figure out a way to visit afterwards, but that's mostly because I hate found families breaking apart to go home after the plot ends. I also like seeing takes where one of them doesn't return to their original time for one reason or another.

Time is used to this sort of thing; losing everyone after it's all over and not able to go back. If anything, I think he drifts into a short depression but eventually moves on. He doesn't try to get back to them because none of his efforts with similar incidents ever did any good, so he really doesn't see the point in trying this time. Instead, he tries to make sure to take care of the world he has to pass to them.

I think Four would be a bit broken up about it, but he's also used to saying goodbye to brothers once the adventure ends. He might dabble a bit with trying to find a way back to them, but he;s very cautious for fear of bringing back anything else, so eventually gives up and/or get's distracted with a way to bring back Shadow instead.

I think Sky would probably consider trying to use the time gates to visit the others, maybe he succeeds, maybe he get's lost for a bit and Zelda has to pull him back to their time so they can fix the gates to do what they want, maybe it works. I think he'd try though.

I think Wind and Hyrule would be broken up about losing their brothers, but they have too many responsibilities in their worlds (rebuilding their Hyrules) to really get to dabble with ways to meet the others again. I think they'd handle the loss well though, as they're bright souls and still young enough that change isn't as shattering for them. Not knowing any horrible future fates also makes letting go of the others easier, and they help themselves process it by trying to remind themselves that the others can now be at rest and at home.

Twilight and Legend would take the loss terribly. The vet keeps losing people so I think it'll really break him, and Twilight's fear for Time, for Wild, for all his brothers who he can no longer protect 100% gives him constant anxiety. Depression and a need to find a way back to the others probably take them over until either they do make it back to see the others again or they give up in despair (hence why Twilight's spirit lingers beside Wild as the Old Wolf)

Wild, obviously, is so busy rebuilding Hyrule and going through TotK that he doesn't really have much chance to do much more than miss his brothers. Post TotK though, he and Zelda probably do look into time traveling around if/when they find out Zelda's time powers.

Warriors though, Warriors probably confronts Cia and demands visitation rights as recompense for the war, Zelda backs him up. Cia is willing and the heroes get established visiting times so they ca keep up with each other. I will take no discussion on this, Warriors refuses to leave his brothers alone and sad, he will visit them even if he has to beg Cia for it.

(And if Cia doesn't agree, Nayru sort of owes Legend her life, and she's definitely got a soft spot for him, so I can see her allowing him to visit his brothers as long as he promises to not screw up the timeline.)

[sungie]

“Stop wasting your time.” 

Scaramouche has never been a liar. Yet there’s something so jarring about the way it leaves his mouth. When what he really needs to say is something so disgustingly vulnerable he can’t bear it. He’s just said, stop wasting your time, when what he really needs to say is ‘on me’. Stop wasting your time on me.

So why won’t his lips move? Why won’t he say those words he knows will wipe that hurt expression right off your face? 

He feels your back tense against his. And it's so preventable. If only he just ... spit it out. Said sorry. Explained himself.

“What?” You say.

It’s such a quiet sound. Even though you’re there, right beside him. So close, it feels like he holds the tremors of your voice inside that small, empty space gouged within his chest. 

“You heard me,” is what he says instead. His gaze drifts to the senbei you tried tossing in your mouth and missed. A half-hour earlier and there'd been laughter screwing up your face in a way he hadn’t known softened him. Not until he’d raised a hand to his aching cheek to realize he’d been smiling. And now, because he's an ass, he keeps going. “I know you did.” 

“No,” you say. “No, I heard. I just don’t understand why you ... why you always.” There’s a pause. It’s too long. Seconds too long. 

Before he knows it, he's glancing at you. Just to check, he convinces himself. And god dammit.

He swallows. His chest feels so hollow. Like, he’s carved it out himself. 

“I just wanted to," you say, then stop.

Just shut up already, he thinks. He's not stupid. Like, do you really think he can't tell how hard you're trying to keep your voice steady? That he can’t see the way your nails dig crescent moons into your skin? That he can’t see the way you’re sucking in your left cheek so you won’t cry?

“I just … want you to let me in.” You say at last.

And it’s why you invited him over, he thinks. To try and get him to smile. Which, you succeeded with, he guesses. To try and get him to learn relationships aren’t give and take, but build and build.

Like that stupid analogy and that stupid board game. You beat him at it earlier that night, and he swept the rest of the wooden blocks aside to slump and gaze at your ceiling in defeat. Later, you’d laughed and slumped on top of him, pressing your nose to his.

Now did you succeed in that second part? Scaramouche scoffs.

So pathetic. Pathetically naive.

Because he doesn’t think you’re right. People never stay. Never.

But when he glances back at you, your gaze burns a determined hole into him. Despite him having been a total dick all evening. And there it is again, that unfamiliar feeling in his chest. Expanding. Making it hard to breathe.

Well, if he’s honest. He hopes you’re right. Even though you're not.

Scaramouche sighs. He leans forward, his thumb lightly grazing the top of your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It fell into your face. That’s all.”

He knows his touch lingers. What he really wants is to cup your cheek. He wants to hold you. But his hands move back to his sides like he can't control them. Another reminder he’s more puppet than human. 

“You want me to let you in,” he says, repeating your sentiments. “And what good will that do? I relive my god-awful memories, just for you to cry your pretty little eyes out? I don’t think so.” 

He’s thankful you don’t dwell on it. He supposes he should reward you, until he hears it.

“You think I’m pretty?”

Is that even a question? Of course he does. 

Not anymore, is what he’s about to say, but it dies away once he notices just how he’s gazing at you.

And it must be tender, or as tender as someone like him can manage, because he watches you press your lips together to hide your smile. Stubbornly withheld tears wobble beneath your waterline.

“Don’t cry,” he says, just to balance it out. “You look ugly.” 

It makes you laugh. “I hate you. So much.” 

God, Scaramouche loves that laugh.

He cracks a smile. “Good.” He reaches for your hand and brings it to his lips. A kiss against your knuckles. A kiss against the jut of your wrist. And the words fall from his lips into your ear like your judgment can repent a guilty conscience. “I meant it, when I said to stop wasting your time. You want me to let you in? So listen. Stop wasting your time. On me.” 

He pulls away, only to see your eyes flash open. That’s when you bite back a sob.

You blink, and tears fall down your cheeks in a race to gather beneath your chin, just to dribble down the sides of your nose. “I want you. How many times do I have to say it? You. I want you. I know you don’t think you deserve love, but you do. You do.”

There’s a moment where he thinks he might ruin everything. He can feel the words building behind his throat, the way everything feels tight and tense and like he can’t breathe. But there’s also something smaller, something gentler. It’s a strange feeling, one that’s been building in his chest and kindling every time you speak.

“Typical,” Scaramouche says, but he’s reaching to cup your face, thumbing away at the tears and pressing his lips to the corner of your eyes.

[20001541]

I honestly think AFO's main mistake was wasting too much time with the heroes in Gunga, he could have destroyed them as he eventually did long before, in that case he would face Armored All Might with a cooler head and with more time on the clock, he would probably win without major complications and there wouldn't be any obstacles until Shigaraki after him, since Bakugou would still take a little longer to wake up.

Well to be fair he was trying his best but there was a lot of them all jumping him at once so its hard to keep moving when you got a ton of people on you.

He tried leaving the battlefield after Endeavor got sidetracked with Dabi, but Hawks kept getting in the way. Once the students from that other school arrived he didn't exactly waste time using this powerful quirk that incapacitated a lot of them.

Then not too long after he uses this

But unfortunately Tokoyami comes into the picture shortly after and does a powerful attack that rewinded him younger.

Instead of trying to keep fighting the students after rewinding to a younger state his first instinct was to keep flying away with the students trying to chase after him.

Then Machia comes and interrupts everything and then we see beloved kitten being jumped at all angles once more.

This happens for a brief moment until he lashes out at Machia, killing him and sends another attack towards the heroes that makes them pass out.

He then steals Hawks quirk, makes a little speech then bails out.

So he was genuinely trying to leave as fast as he could, but there was so much opposition it was hard to keep going. Eventually he did succeed but not after taking too much damage that ended up screwing him over for the All Might fight.

Truthfully he shouldn't have bothered with All Might in the first place because dealing with that is what ultimately cost him the war as I think he still could've won in the state he was in when he left Gunga. But yeah he couldn't let All Might go thinking he could stand there and defy him so openly rip

[crushedsweets]

I need to know what Ej would look like in your fantasy au PLEASE

OK. I GOT THIS. OK . OK. guys i have another draft and hes the ugliest man in the world in that one but i think i kinda redeemed myself here. ok anyway

jack nyras was a doctor for the royals, very well known, etc. he didn't like the fame and and attention bc he was always a very humble man, and it was frustrating only being able to help people within the castle walls, rather than the thousands of other patients he could be helping when lounging around waiting for the king to get a bellyache.

shortly after jeffs attack on the kingdom, jack nurses jane(the new queen) to health but he quickly redirects his attention to the people of the kingdom .

well that screws him over cuz he gets cursed by a little witch or fairy or some other thing that tricks him. he goes 'missing'(runs away cuz hes mortified by his new body), is presumed dead, and now hes a monster .. prob chills in one of the enchanted forests until sally, ben, and an injured toby stumble across him.

sally's been a ghost roaming around the halls of the castle for decades now and remembered jack as the past royal doctor, SOOOOO shes like 3: help my friend . jacks like 'ohh but im not a doctor anymore.. im a wretched beast... (dramatic)' whatever whatever

now hes convinced and he helps toby and they spend a while trying to convince him to come back to the kingdom.

whether they succeed or not is unbeknownst to me . .

[missmyloko]

Hi Justine,

I had an encounter with a Japanese person who hates the geisha world because of Kiyoha’s tweets, and I feel I could have responded better.

Is it ok to ask your opinion/advice? If not, please feel free to ignore my ask and I’ll understand.

I was at a reading group and I’m reading Arai Mameji’s autobiography. When I shared what I was reading, the Japanese person in our group said she hates the geisha world because they sell young girls to powerful men. I said that isn’t true, not anymore at least, and then she brought up Kiyoha’s tweets.

I got really thrown off and wasn’t sure what to say. I said I did get really upset when that news came out, and that it’s hard when you’re in an industry where the clients include politicians and rich, powerful men.

But I also said I’ve been to maiko events where the owner of the restaurant was there at all times, the guests were a mix of men and women, and the maiko were perfectly safe.

I also said that at least thanks to Kiyoha’s tweets, girls who decide to become maiko will do so with open eyes.

The facilitator of the group asked me what do I like about maiko, and I was so thrown that I couldn’t articulate it properly. I said I admire how hard they work to perfect their craft, and i love the beautiful kimono they wear. But when I expounded on how hard they work, I realized I was describing an environment that makes it easy to cover up abuse—no cellphones, only seeing their families at New Year, so I felt awkward again.

So I left that reading group with an icky feeling, and I also felt misunderstood. Though the facilitator was still nice and said he hoped to see me next time.

So, if I have a similar encounter, how can I respond without feeling like I’m defending abuse? 😰

Their environment is traditional, which can make it seem like it's an "easy" place to hide abuse, but that same environment is one that looks out for its own above all, which makes it much safer than one would think. Being in the karyukai really is like being in a secret club, whether you're a geimaiko or a customer you're vetted thoroughly before you enter, and if you go against the grain you're shown the door. It's also a world run by women who truly treat their charges like their own daughters (in 99% of cases anyway), so you know that they don't take abuse or the accusation of abuse laying down. The biggest thing to remember is that, unlike in the past, girls are free to choose the life of a geimaiko and can also leave at anytime without the fear of repercussions, so no one is going into the profession as a slave or has to endure any abuse of any kind. The girls who do this kind of hard work (and it is hard, which is why it's so admirable) are dedicated to the arts and improving themselves, which makes them such bosses. The girls who enter just to wear pretty kimono are quickly weeded out as they can't keep up with the training, but those who triumph have names that are known the world over. As to why you probably admire geimaiko, that's a fairly easy thing to articulate once you sit down and realize what they do. These women buck social norms as they say "no" to traditional gender roles and become the ones who wield power over men. They study the arts that they want, keep schedules that are pretty steady (and can then make their own schedules when they become jimae), and eventually buy whatever they want (and even when they live at the okiya they pretty much want for not). Not only that, but they are power brokers and diplomats for some of the most powerful people on the planet. It takes a special kind of strength to be a geimaiko, and those who succeed in living that life are bad asses. I mean, where else can you be a single mother earning a six figure salary, wear the best clothing, and meet people from across the globe on a nightly basis? In a society where traditional gender norms shape so much of what people can and can't do, geimaiko basically say "screw that" to everything. What happened to Kiyoha was horrible and can't be ignored, which is why the karyukai is starting to take action against that kind of behavior happening again. The good eggs look out for their own, like the events that you've gone to, and this is true in the vast majority of cases. I mean, no system is perfect and there will always be bad apples, but you can't look at Kiyoha's experience and say that the entire profession is like that or that it's tainted beyond repair because of what one girl went through. Anything worth fighting for requires effort, and it's up to people like us to put in the effort to help dispel the myths surrounding geimaiko so that this wonderful profession can continue to thrive in the future, hopefully with the necessary changes being made to ensure that it becomes a safer environment for all involved ^^

[avionvadion]

after scarabia incident happens and everyone else returns to campus from winter break, is there a "DON'T TELL MALLEUS" or a "we can keep this our little secret malleus doesn't have to know :-)" situation? in my head, it sounds like jamil would be screwed if malleus found out that he almost killed el

I mean Jamil isn’t the first one to nearly kill Eleanora… he’s just the first one (not counting Riddle since it was mostly the curse that got her) to almost SUCCEED.

I'd say his beef is mostly with Eleanora herself at this point for not really asking him for help. The only time- the only time- she's asked him for help was with Leona because she suspected he might Overblot. Azul? Nope. No. She went to Leona and Idia for help. The audacity.

And then Jamil happens but instead of contacting Lilia to contact him she messages Adeuce and Poma bumps into the two on the way to Sage's Island because Eleanora isn't returning his calls like damn it if not for Crowley SHE, GIDEL, AND SKULLY WOULD BE WITH HIM, DIVUS, AND LITTLE SELENA CELEBRATING THE HOLIDAYS BUT NOW SHE'S MOST LIKELY IN DANGER AGAIN AND OH, LOOK, SPADE AND TRAPPOLA. OF COURSE ELEANORA IS IN DANGER AGAIN. UGH. Then Malleus only finds out from Lilia after Lilia went to deliver that Holidays Greeting card for him that Eleanora needs help with the curse because she got in danger again and was chasing the curse because Jamil is connected to Jafar.

Like, Eleanora, sweetie, MR. HORNS HAS THE POWER TO PROTECT YOU. JUST ASK HIM FOR HELP.

Ah, yes, but then there'd be no plot or life threatening danger... damn it.

BUT HEY MAKES FOR INTERESTING CONVOS.

I like to think Malleus took some of his rage out on the Chort before handing him over to Baul and Maleficia. He doesn't like Fellow at all since he was involved in Eleanora's "death", but Malleus has more choice words for Eleanora herself than the Overblotters since she's continuously relying on other people instead of him and the Overblots are just common occurrences at this point. Like, damn it, woman. LET HIM HELP, HE WANTS TO HELP. HE IS THIS CLOSE TO LOCKING YOU AWAY, STOP IT. Ya'll had that talk in Christmas Town, SO LET HIM HELP. HE CAN NOT HELP IF YOU DO NOT TELL HIM WHAT IS WRONG.

Chaos.

Is okay though. He gets to help a little during VDC. All is well.

BUT LET HIM HELP MORE, DAMN IT.

[maxwell-grant]

HEROFY: Mysterio

I think the later decades have only made "disgruntled VFX worker who abandons Hollywood to strike out on his own artistically" easier to root for but let's do something new:

Quentin Beck has basically the same backstory, kid who loves movies and grows up making stop-motion shorts even against his family's wishes and develops enough technical knowhow to become a VFX artist and stuntman. The problem being, he's a VFX artist and stuntman, both of his jobs are unstable or unsafe, overwork him to the bone, and net him absolutely zero recognition. He keeps screwing up jobs because he plans for things that go way over budget, and he keeps getting screwed out of jobs because, he's a VFX artist and stuntman in film, it comes with the territory. He's only really a stuntman because he needs an extra source of revenue and he desperately wanted something that was still in film. He is trying to conciliate his all-consuming love for the artform with his need for money and dignity and conditions necessary to live so he can keep on with his work (and also his ego, because you can't divest Mysterio from his ego). He lives for one thing, and it's killing him.

Some people have put forth the idea that the rise of superheroes would cause special effects workers and magicians to be rendered obsolete and that being the kick-off to Mysterio's career, but I'm gonna argue the opposite would happen: film chases reality, not the other way around. So instead, the advent of the Fantastic Four and the Avengers puts a HUGE pressure on the film industry to advance and quadruple down on replicating the things that people go crazy for in the papers. Billion dollar budgets, CGI advancements rushed out the door years too early, actors being replaced by digital puppets, etc. Quentin Beck has to live and find work in an MCU world overnight and it drives him to the breaking point. And then, he hears about Spider-Man, this carefree flipping freak who abandoned showbiz to be a full-time superhero, this sellout hack in tights who will pretty soon be a franchise and a nightmare for stuntmen everywhere to play, and it's the last straw, so he decides to go and pick a fight with him. Partially because he wants to stop Turn Off the Dark from happening, but mostly to see if he can be the hero instead of this insulting little snot that needs to be put in his place.

And then he succeeds. He gets away with everything in that original story and Spider-Man actually gives up, bows out of costumed life. Mysterio is now a hero revered in the papers with a parade thrown in his honor, and best of all, he has FINALLY found a calling that makes use of his expertise. He can finally give Hollywood the middlefinger and use his artistic talents for something AND make a living AND be appreciated for it. He figures that with this, he can probably start making his own movies, maybe cash out the Mysterio character as a franchise, and eventually retire. But there's two problems.

One, is that he got what he wanted. He disgraced and replaced Spider-Man, and so now he gets to be the main character of Spider-Man comics, and thus, deal with all the Spider-Man problems. Two, that his fight with Spider-Man? The "greatest action scene in history"? This time, the cameraman got it all on film. Mysterio achieved the greatest, most thrilling and impactful scene of his career, and he wasn't even trying. Worse, his co-star, the villain of the scene, is now gone. Beck could just let it go, but he can't. He can't peak this early, by accident. He can't be a fluke. He can't.

So now he has to actually go out there and fight crime, again and again and again and again, in the hopes that he can get it all on film, in the hopes that he will find a villain as thrilling to fight as Spider-Man, in the hopes that it will be another hit, another masterpiece, because while nobody gives a fuck about Quentin Beck still, Mysterio is now a film icon. Not only can he not allow himself to be a one-hit wonder, he can NEVER unmask and ride this out into a lucrative retirement, and he can't turn to crime and risk being exposed either, because he can't ruin the character everyone loves now. He can't ruin his life's work. He has made a masterpiece, and now he has to make it forever.

With great art, comes great expectation.