#so remember the main street? yeah so it's his last name right?

[helenofblackthorns]

.

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Whenever I remember that Tenya almost went full vigilante mode for Tensei I want to scream so bad like it's not even funny.

Bnha somersaults its way into saying "maybe heroes are just good citizens with the power to do good things" and "maybe heroism is not in the big notorious acts but in being kind and fair in the day to day details" AND THAT'S ALL TENSEI.

AND THAT'S WHAT MOTIVATES TENYA TO GO FULL BLOODHOUND ON STAIN.

I'm not denying that the world needs the big ass heroism acts like defeating AFO or saving a city or all those flashy notorious feats. All Might is very needed, because there are threats that are too old and developed and have accumulated too much hatred and damage over the years. You cannot always prevent those things from happening and to believe so would be naive, right?

What I'm saying is that those big events are the lowest percentage. They are the consequences of a systematic failure.

Take two of the biggest evil plots in the manga: AFO planning to still OFA and Overhaul with his quirk-erasure bullets. Both plans depended on an abused child being used as objects, Eri because her quirk was the base of the bullet working and Tomura because he was just meant to be AFO's new body in the future. In both cases, AFO and Overhaul were cornered after losing the child they were using for their plots. In fact it was the kids resisting the abuse that contributed the most to their failure: Eri prevented Overhaul from hurting Deku and Tomura prevented AFO from escaping his decaying body.

In that sense, the little unknown pro-heroes taking care of their neighborhood's children do a lot to prevent cases like Tomura or Eri from happening. Hell, AFO and Overhaul were also kids who went the violent route to survive.

Ingenium's silent heroism is probably the best example of what a hero looks like. They don't seek fame or glory. They regard heroism as their duty, their responsibility. No matter how little the act is, it's still important to do it.

At this point, we must admit the Tenya's crisis over what happened to Tensei is not only about their bond as brothers. Yeah, that was Tenya's big bro, but it is no less than when Deku and Bakugo saw All Might fighting AFO for the last time— the last moments of their role models.

The Iida brothers' crisis was deep rooted in the main issues of the story, so I'm still baffled at how people just tend to ignore it.

Before Stain, the "League of Villains" was just a minor threat. Dabi was a nobody with no real crimes to his name. Toga was just a lost little girl trying to survive the streets. Spinner didn't even think about being a villain. Before Stain, things were bad, but no one really thought they could change the status quo, you know?

The USJ incident was not the big deal because 1) how was attacking kids the answer? and 2) going for All Might was expected, since he was almost invincible and the biggest hero in the world and blah blah blah.

When Stain started attacking minor pro-heroes...

Stain was the opposite of Tomura. He admired All Might and saved those kids, but went after the pro-heroes with less powerful quirks. He gave the population a sense of control. It's like he said "hey, you don't have to go after All Might to change the system and why would you? The real problem are the ones on the lowest part of the pro-hero chain".

Suddenly, they could go against pro-heroes and win. Divide and conquer. Suddenly, there was a ladder to climb. Suddenly, you could target not the institutions responsible for the rotten ideology of your society, but the people who enforced the ideology with their daily work.

Stain defended his posture by saying that those people didn't want to be real heroes. They just wanted the money, the fame, they were not really committed to their duty.

And then attacked Tensei, of all people.

If big crimes are built from little crimes that are accumulated over time, what would happen if you decided to eliminate the people taking care of the little crimes?

The crisis of belief in pro-heroes was triggered by Stain. When Stain pointed out at Ingenium (the one in the suit was Tensei) and accused him of false heroism, it's when shit started to go south. He created the idea that pro-heroes should be punished if they don't perform correctly and that they deserve to die if they don't have pure ideas of their job— or whatever.

Tensei being the victim is supposed to show how hypocritical Stain is. Tensei is probably one of the only pro-heroes that never did anything wrong in the manga and one of the best family men to be presented. A man who was loved by everyone for being good in every sense of the word.

Stain projected his own fantasies on Tensei in order to accomplish his witch hunt, not truly caring to figure out who the person was. He just attacked for the sake of attacking, which explains why he was so popular: anyone could do the same and project their issues on him, fighting different battles disguised as just one cause.

When Tenya went after him, it could only make sense. The little of the Iidas is too righteous and noble, quick to judge and act, prone to making mistakes and getting carried away by the looks of it all. So easily his justice turns into revenge and he falls into the trap Stain set. Who knows what a hero student killing Stain would have caused...

At this point it's obvious I'm just ranting for the sake of ranting but 😭😭😭 give the Iidas the respect they deserve please.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

secret little rendevous-3*

Summary: The meeting with HR goes well (surprisingly). But, there's something else that'll break your heart soon, and Harry will be the one to crush it into pieces.

Words: 3k

Words: ANGST! ANGST! ANGST! There's a bit of smut too, but there's lot of fighting, swearing and degradation. and daddy kink.

(previous part here) | (series masterlist) | (main masterlist)

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Harry hadn’t always been so cold-hearted. He believed in true love and had always dreamed of finding his soulmate. But that all changed after one fateful night.

It was a regular Friday night and Harry was out with his friends at a local bar. He spotted a beautiful girl across the room and couldn't take his eyes off her. She was there with her friends, her short skirt riding up her legs everytime she moved on the dance floor.

Harry stared at her for long enough that one of her girlfriends approached him, saying it was a bachelorette party, and the girl he was eyeing was the bride.

Oh.

That should have stopped him from taking it any further, should’ve made him take his eyes off her, but he just couldn’t. He was mesmerized with the way she looked, the glow on her face, and with the tiara she had worn on her head, she looked like a goddess to him.

He mustered up the courage to approach her, when none of the other girls were nearby.

As the night went on, they grew closer and closer. They danced, they kissed, and before they knew it, they were back at Harry's place. They spent the whole night together, lost in each other's arms. It was magical.

At least for him.

It was a long night, full of kisses and making out and sex. The thought of her being engaged, and never being his was pushed into the back of his mind, and locked into a cage that he never intended to open.

So, the next morning, when she got up frantically, looking for her clothes through the house and stuffing them in a carry bag, pulling her dress on, Harry frowned.

“You’re-you’re leaving?” he asked, and she raised her eyebrows, suggesting how already obvious it was.

“Yeah, duh. What-do you expect me to stay?”

She brushed him off, and he picked his t-shirt from the floor, putting it on and sliding towards the edge of the bed, where she was getting dressed.

“Well-I-I-” she put her finger over his lips, shutting him up, “Shh, you know I’m engaged, right?”

“Well-”

“I know that you know I’m engaged. Marie told me as soon as she told you to back off. But I knew you would come for me, because well-” she finished dressing up, picking up the rest of her stuff, ready for the walk of shame.

“I could drive you home-”

“No, thanks”

Clearly, she didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. Last night was all she wanted, and it seemed like she regretted quite a lot.

“Okay, well-”

“Let me leave, Harry” she blurted out, and he closed his mouth, watching her go away.

Harry couldn't believe it. He had just spent the most amazing night with this girl, Natalia, and now she was leaving him. He watched as she walked away, her hair swaying with each step, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for her. He wanted to reach out and pull her back to him, to tell her to stay, but he knew he couldn't force her to do anything. So he just sat there, watching her disappear into the busy city streets.

For the next few days, Harry couldn't focus on anything else. He couldn't stop thinking about Natalia, replaying every moment they had shared together. He remembered the way her lips felt against his, the way her body fit perfectly into his, and the way she moaned his name in pleasure, as he made her cum multiple times. He couldn't shake off the feeling that she was the one for him, and he couldn't let her go without a fight.

So he did what any hopeless romantic would do, he tracked her down. He found out where she worked, and he waited for her outside her office. When she finally emerged, he approached her, determined to win her over.

“Hey,” he said, a nervous smile on his face. “I know this might seem crazy, but I can't stop thinking about you. I had the most amazing time with you the other night, and I just wanted to see you again.”

Natalia looked surprised to see him, but her face softened as she looked into his eyes. “Harry, I had a great time too, alright? But I don't think it's a good idea for us to see each other again.”

Harry's heart sank at her words, but he wasn't ready to give up just yet. “Can I at least take you out for dinner? Just one more time?”

Natalia hesitated, but eventually gave in. “Okay, just one dinner. But that's it. I’m done then”

Harry grinned, feeling a sense of hope rising in his chest. He took her to a fancy restaurant, where they shared a delicious meal and talked for hours. As the night went on, they both felt a strong connection between them, and before they knew it, they were back at Harry's apartment, tangled in each other's arms once again.

But as the sun rose the next morning, reality came crashing down, once again. Natalia had a husband, and she couldn't keep seeing Harry behind his back. She tearfully explained that she had been going through a rough patch with her husband and had been seeking comfort in the arms of another man. She knew it was wrong, and she couldn't continue to hurt her husband like this.

Harry was devastated. He always knew she was engaged, and had gotten married. But he couldn't deny his feelings for her. So he made a promise to himself that he would wait for her, that he would be there for her when she was ready to leave her husband.

Months went by, and Harry couldn't forget about Natalia. He tried to move on, to date other women, but no one compared to her. He couldn't bring himself to fall in love with anyone else, because deep down, he still hoped that Natalia would come back to him.

One day, he received a call from her. She was crying and begging him to meet her. He rushed to her side, only to find her in a state of panic. Her husband had found out about her affair, and he was furious. He had threatened to break off their engagement if Natalia didn't end things with Harry.

Natalia was torn. She loved Harry, but she couldn't lose her fiancé and the life they had built together. She tearfully told Harry that she had to go back to her husband, but promised to never forget him.

Harry was heartbroken, but he understood. He knew that Natalia had to make a difficult choice, and he couldn't force her to choose him. So he let her go, but he never stopped waiting for her.

Years went by, and Harry never fell in love again. He lived his life, but a part of him always belonged to Natalia. He never forgot about her, and he never stopped hoping that one day, she would come back to him.

.    .     .

At first, the prospect of being called daddy in bed was not appealing in the slightest for Harry. The thought made him uncomfortable, and the kink was never fully understood. He always knew the girls who would call him daddy had daddy issues, and it wasn’t one to feed onto it.

But since the day you had called him daddy, even if it was just because you had been in subspace, he couldn’t shake the way his mind was filled up with it. Your trembling voice, tear-stained cheeks as you asked him to take care of you, vulnerable and exposed, it awakened something in him he didn’t know existed. 

He now wanted you to call him daddy again, but only when he was balls deep inside you, fucking you so good, you can’t even think straight, and the word should flow out of your mind mindlessly.

So, here you were, spread out in front of him, his cock buried deep in your soaked cunt. Your nails were scratching down his back, his cock hitting places that had your mind turning into mush.

The HR meeting had gone well. Olivia was dismissed, because she had no proof of whatever she was accusing you of. And since you were in different departments, they had no issue with it, as long as it didn’t affect your performances at work.

Well, it didn’t.

You didn’t tell Harry the whole story, because you knew Olivia would. After the meeting, you had tried to call him too, but his line was busy.

Of course.

Olivia would’ve called him before you.

So, you left a text, calling him to your house tonight to hook up.

He replied about 10 minutes later, saying that he was working overtime tonight and then he had a doctor’s appointment, so he couldn’t do it tonight. That seemed genuine, because month end was approaching, and the workload was heavy. You replied in affirmative, and waited for the next day, when you could see him.

And now, here you were.

It wasn’t planned for–no. You had called him that once before, and it slipped from your mouth without a second thought.

“Fuck, daddy please.”

Harry’s mind went back immediately, his hips halting and he looked into your eyes immediately, bringing his mouth back up from where it was buried in your neck, biting and creating marks. 

“Say it again.” He breathed out, his belly tightening in anticipation as his dark green irises stared down at you.

You blinked in response, not realizing that you’d just said the word in bed, even though you both didn’t like it. 

“Har–Harry, I swear–I didn’t mean to-.”

“Say. It. Again.” Harry demanded, his hand snaking its way to your throat, lightly applying pressure to the base of your neck. “I won’t ask again. Say it.”

“Daddy.” You moaned, the grip on your neck dizzying. Harry felt more precum ooze out of his cock, and into your tight cunt, his cock twitching as the name fell from your pretty, swollen lips.

“Fuck, that’sit.” Harry groaned, pulling out his cock completely, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. You whined, and he shushed you, before ramming it back into you with such force it sucked the air from your lungs. “Say it one more time, baby girl.”

“D-daddy, please.” You repeated, growing more confident with using the term. You threw your head back into the pillow behind you, biting your bottom lip as his started fucking you once again.

“You want to cum?” he asked, teasing you. He knew you were close, the tight grip your pussy had on his cock, and the way you were clenching and squeezing him, gave it away.

“Yes, please” you nodded, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, it felt so fucking good. 

“Daddy, I need to cum,” you moaned, your voice becoming more desperate with each passing second. You could feel the pressure building in your core, ready to explode at any moment.

“Say please” he urged, beginning to rub your swollen clit.

“Oh-fuck!Daddy-daddy please?”

“Good girl. Cum for me. Soak me, baby”

And that you did. Gushed around his cock, wetting his cock and balls as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He came too, pulling out and emptying his load on your stomach.

“God-fuck! Shit-” he cursed as he came, and you couldn’t help but watch in awe as his head threw back, pink lips parting as he gave you all he got.

He laid down beside you, catching his breath. 

“You’re so good for me” he mumbled afterwards, wiping the sweat off your forehead and kissing your cheek softly.

He went to the bathroom, to clean himself up, and bring you some toilet paper to wash his cum off.

And it was maybe by some cruel twist of fate that you decided to open Olivia's message from last night, exactly at that moment.

And it's everything you were scared of happening.

It says "Guess who he chose" with a picture of Harry's back attached below. He is lying naked on her bed, and probably asleep.

And you know it's Harry, because you would recognise those curls everywhere, plus you can see the fading nail marks on his back that you gave him weeks ago.

What the fuck?

Mr.I-don’t-do-stayovers was sleeping in her bed just after you saved his ass from being fired hours ago.

Great. Just fucking great.

When he emerged from the bathroom, you were already getting up. You wiped yourself clean with a stray napkin he had kept on his chair, throwing it near the trash bin.

“What-what are you doing-did you clean it up? I brought this-”

“Where were you last night?” you asked, voice stern.

“What-why would you ask that?”

“Answer the damn question, Harold. Where were you last night?”

“I told you, I was working overtime and I–I had an appointment–”

“Save your lies, you bastard–I know you were with Olivia last night. You were fucking her, and then you slept on her too. What else did you do with her that you can’t do with me? Do you kiss her while you fuck her too? Or is it just my lips that give you blue balls?”

“I-” 

It was like he wasn’t even trying. He wasn’t even trying to tell you that he didn’t treat you like shit, that he treated Olivia the same way he treated you.

“Or have you committed to her? Became her “boyfriend”?”

“You know I don’t do that stupid stuff. And I didn’t sleep, okay? I left after a while”

“Shut up. Just-shut up, okay? Stop lying. She sent me the message at 2am. And I know you’re blind and you don’t drive in the dark.”

“Alright-fine! I stayed over at hers, but that was it, okay? There’s nothing more”

“And what is it with me, then? I’m too, just a couple of holes you fuck when you get bored with another? Hm?”

“It’s not like that, okay? She told me how you dragged her into HR for sleeping with me and how she saved my ass, my job, so I–I had to give her something in return”

“What the fuck? That bitch didn’t save your ass, okay? I did. Why do you think they’ll listen to her? I was the superior one. And she was the one who went to HR to rant and cry over us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. You and me sleeping together.”

“But she told me–”

“Well, she’s a fucking liar.”

You fell back on the bed, your head throbbing from all of it. How could she lie like that? Apparently, it didn’t matter that she did, because you knew he would go after her again.

You got back up, staring at him with eyes full of anger.

“Tell  me, Harry, who is better? Me or her.”

“What?”

“Tell me, me or her? So I can take myself out of this fuck-up you have created and find someone else who isn’t afraid to commit to me, and who doesn’t treat me like shit”

You yelled and once you finished yelling, your eyes were brimming with tears.

But you won’t cry. Not in front of him.

“There’s no fucking competition, Y/N. I’m not “choosing: anybody”

“So just choose her, then. I bet she feels better than me, doesn’t she? She takes you better down her throat too? I guess that’s the way to get you to stay loyal.

“I’m not fucking loyal to her—”

“Why? Why aren’t you fucking loyal–”

“I-love someone,” he confessed.

Your eyes widened. Harry, the cold-hearted moron, who can’t even commit to sleeping with one woman, loved someone?

And then he told you the story of Natalia, the girl who discarded him like trash, and somehow, that gave him the right to do the same to other women.

“If she came back to you, would you still go back to her?” you asked him, voice still shaking and broken.

He stayed quiet, his gaze to the floor.

“FUCKING ANSWER ME, HARRY!” you yelled, and he flinched. He had never seen you like this. You were always sweet and soft and polite to him, even after he treated you like shit most of the time. 

He still didn’t say anything, and you knew the answer. He never even thought of something other than sex with anyone. His heart was already full for her, it always had been. He never even thought of you twice, and here you were, catching feelings for him.

“You’re so full of shit. She used you and threw you away like you were nothing. When you had given her everything she needed to stay. And the first chance she got, she went back to him. She doesn’t love you. When will you realize that?”

You got up, walking to him and standing right in front of him.

“Tell me” you demanded once again. 

His voice shook, raspy, indicating he had shed a few tears, “I don’t-don’t want to. I don’t want to realize that, okay? She still loves me. And I’ll wait for her. No matter how long it takes”

You looked up, trying to stop the tears from falling. Your heart was broken, and he didn’t even seem to realize what he had done to you.

“Do I matter to you, Harry?! Do I mean anything to you?”

Still no answer.

“Great. Just fucking great. I am the one who has been with you for the last 4 months, even if it is just for sex. I am the one who got you the promotion so you could pay your fucking bills. I am the one who fought with HR so we could both keep our jobs. All that’s nothing? I did that for nothing! And that bitch, who couldn’t even stay committed to her own fiance. Slept with you once and your stupid heart is made up for her–”

He shot his eyes up, his fists clenching beside him in anger.

“Don’t you dare say anything about her” 

He looked angry, eyes red and jaw clenched.

“Fine. I’ll leave, then” 

You announced, wearing your clothes in a haste. Picking up your phone, your keys, your toothbrush and your spare clothes that were lying on the chair.

You walked out the room, going straight for the door. You were turning the doorknob when you heard him, “And delete my number from you damn phone”

“I never saved it,” you replied.

And it’s after you reach home that you break down into tears. 

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tell me if you like this! i wanted to end it here, but i know, it's too sad :(, and i know this isn't soo good! but read it, please, and tell me what you think! >.<

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[allmoshnobrain]

𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 04 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2.8k

“It’s just…” you started, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “I don’t want you to think I’m a mess.” “I’ve been a mess most of my life, kiddo,” he whispered, letting go of your chin and resting his hand back on the table. You sighed, your heart beating a little off-kilter as you fought the urge to scoot closer to him. “I’m not gonna judge you. I just want to help.”

✦ warnings and tags: jason newsted x reader, age gap (23/38), no use of y/n, slow burn, grumpy/sunshine dynamics maybe?, reader has a backstory and it's kinda tragic, a bit of angst, eventual smut in future parts, stalking (not by Jason), toxic ex dynamics (not by Jason), mentions of cheating

“I didn’t know he was talking about you,” Sophie leaned forward on the balcony, a small smile on her lips as she looked at you curiously. You blinked, puzzled.

“What?”

“Your Mr. Newsted,” she explained, and the way she said his name made your cheeks turn red. “He mentioned wanting to cover a friend’s subscription fee, but I didn’t realize he was talking about you.”

You bit your lower lip, glancing around the Recreation Club’s hall. Jason had said he’d be taking a quick tour of the place while you filled out the membership paperwork, but he still wasn’t back. The morning sun streamed through the windows, casting little patterns of light all over the floor. You could see one of the Club’s pools through the glass behind Sophie. The place looked pretty much the same as it did when you were a kid, and it made your heart ache with a mix of nostalgia and happiness.

“I didn’t know he meant to pay it for me either,” you said, simply. “He said it was a thank-you gift… For helping him get to know the town.”

“He must be loaded if that’s his idea of a thank-you gift. Damn, you’re so lucky. I wish someone would cover my stuff,” Sophie grunted, and you giggled. “Hey, you sure he’s not from around here or something? When I first saw him, I thought his face looked familiar.”

“I don’t think so, Soph,” you shrugged. “Maybe you know him from his work? He said he used to be in a band,” You finished signing the paper with your personal info and handed it to Sophie. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” she said, glancing over the form. You looked up as Jason walked back into the hall from his quick tour. He smiled at you, and you could feel your cheeks flushing again.

“So, everything good?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

“Yep,” Sophie smiled, handing you both cards and brochures. “These are your temporary membership cards. The official ones should be ready in a week. And here’s a booklet with our rules and an overview of the facilities. Welcome to the Recreation Club!”

You said your goodbyes to Sophie shortly after, holding the membership card and the brochure tightly in your hands as you got into Jason’s car. You weren’t entirely sure why you had decided to accept his offer from the night before; maybe you were being selfish, wanting back some of the happiness you still associated with the place. But maybe it was the honesty in his eyes when he’d talked to you about it. You knew Jason wasn’t lying when he said he thought of you as a friend; the memory of last night’s words made your heart flutter in your chest with a strange happiness.

“You happy?” he asked, catching your gaze. He gave you a soft smile, his blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight before he put on his sunglasses.

“Yeah,” you smiled, glancing down at your hands as you nervously fiddled with the membership card. “What’s with the sunglasses?” you asked, and Jason chuckled.

“Guess I might’ve had more to drink than I remember yesterday. Got a bit of a headache,” he said. “So, should I take you home, or are you headed somewhere else?”

“I need to go to work,” you answered quietly. “But it’s fine if you want to drop me off at home.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll drive you. Let me guess… It’s on Main Street, right?”

“Pretty much everything is,” you agreed with a chuckle. “It’s the flower shop near the police station. I can show you the way.”

“I think I can find it on my own, sweetheart. But thanks,” he replied playfully, flashing a smile. You bit your lower lip, trying to hide a small smile of your own. “You mind if I turn the radio on?”

“Go ahead,” you said. Jason leaned forward, pressing a few buttons on the car’s panel to turn on the radio. A soft tune filled the car, and you smiled as you watched the trees pass by the window. It was a sunny day, the first in a while. The start of spring felt like a miracle, and for the first time in ages, you felt alive. It was a good feeling, calm and steady. Funny how most of that came from being around someone you’d only met a few days before.

Oh, I'll twine with my mingles and waving black hair With the roses so red and the lilies so fair And the myrtle so bright with the emerald hue The pale and the leader and eyes look like blue.

You glanced at Jason, a soft smile playing on your lips. He looked focused, one hand on the wheel while the other rested on the gear shift, his finger tapping along to the beat of the song. You wondered how he’d react if you touched him, ran your fingers through his hair, felt its soft texture against your hand. It almost made you wish the ride to work would last a bit longer.

Oh, he taught me to love him and called me his flower That was blooming to cheer him through life's dreary hour Oh, I long to see him and regret the dark hour He's gone and neglected this pale wildwood flower

“We’re here,” he said, pulling the car to a stop and glancing over at you. You blinked and looked around, realizing he’d already parked in front of Mrs. Higgins’ flower shop.

“You really did know the way,” you said, and he chuckled.

“Told you,” he smiled. “You good, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. He had called you that twice already that day, and each time it made you feel like butterflies were restlessly fluttering in your belly. 

“Yeah,” you muttered, your hand fumbling for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem. See you later?”

“See you. Thanks,” you said again before hopping out of his truck.

You were so blissfully lost in thought, replaying all the little moments of happiness from the morning, that you didn’t even notice him. It wasn’t until he was right in front of you, his dark eyes jealous and angry, that you realized. You took a step back, your heart suddenly racing as Ethan glared at you.

 “Ethan, what the hell?” you snapped, taking a step back, a mix of anger and fear tightening in your chest. “I told you I don’t want to see you! What are you doing at my job?”

“You’re late,” he growled. “And what the hell were you doing in that guy’s car? Who is he?”

“So now you’re following me? This is none of your damn business!” You were lucky Mrs. Higgins wasn’t around yet. As nice as she was, you didn’t want her to know your ex was showing up at your work. You looked around nervously, taking another step back as Ethan moved closer. “Leave me alone,” you warned.

“I just want to talk,” he said. You shook your head, arms wrapping around yourself in a vain attempt to feel more protected. You could feel your heart racing against your ribs, your breath growing uneven as your fear threatened to overtake the sheer annoyance of having to deal with him. 

“Ethan, it’s over, okay? Just leave me alone!”

“But you gotta listen to me!” Ethan yelled, and you bit your lip, taking another step back. “Why don’t you fucking—” he suddenly stopped, his eyes glaring angrily at something behind you. You jumped when you felt a firm, strong hand on your shoulder.

“Everything alright?” Jason asked, and you let out a small sigh of relief when you saw him beside you, his blue eyes locked on Ethan with barely hidden annoyance.

“Mr. Newsted,” you whispered, your voice shaking with relief and gratitude. “I’m sorry, he’s just…”

“Who the fuck are you?” Ethan demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at Jason defiantly. You stepped closer to Jason, who gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. It was funny how small and childish Ethan seemed now that Jason was around.

“Doesn’t matter who I am,” Jason said coldly. “But I think you should leave.”

Ethan frowned, glancing quickly between you and Jason before deciding it wasn’t worth the fight. You let out a heavy sigh as he walked away, your breath still shaky. You looked up when you heard Jason call your name.

“You alright?” he asked, worry coloring his blue eyes. You nodded, but tears were right on the edge as you bit your lower lip. “Hey, it’s okay. Come here.”

Jason helped you get back into his car. You buried your face in your hands, trying to steady your breath as you felt a wave of delayed panic making your whole body shake. 

“Should I call someone?” Jason asked, worried. You shook your head.

“I’m fine. I just need to calm down… I can’t miss work.”

“I don’t think you’re in shape to work right now,” he said, and you looked up to meet his concerned gaze. “Can’t you call in sick? I can take you home if you want.”

You bit your lower lip, mind racing as you tried to think of what to do. Going home was tempting, especially with how shaken you were and the chance Ethan might show up again. But you weren’t the type to miss work for anything. Even when you were sick, you usually dragged yourself in anyway, only to have Mrs. Higgins send you home despite your protests.

“I… I don’t know,” you mumbled, and Jason shook his head.

“Unless you want me to stick around all day, it’s probably best to head home. I’m not leaving you alone if that little jerk comes back,” he said, making you giggle nervously. “Come on, just let me take you home.”

You didn’t answer, which Jason took as a yes. You sighed, resting your head against the window, the ride now feeling completely different from the one just a few minutes before. If you’d felt happy and calm then, now you were uneasy and embarrassed. You hadn’t meant to drag Jason into the messier parts of your life. You were giving him too much trouble already, and he’d only just gotten to town.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as he pulled up in front of your house.

“Why are you apologizing? This isn’t your fault,” Jason said, and you shook your head. “It isn’t,” he insisted, giving your knee a gentle squeeze. “Have you thought about talking to the police?”

“That won’t do much. His uncle’s a cop,” you laughed shakily. “I shouldn’t be dragging you into this mess, I…”

“Please, quit saying that,” he cut you off. “Let’s get inside, okay? I can make you some coffee, and you can call work… I’ll stick around until you’re feeling better.”

You nodded, getting out of the car and nervously glancing around, still shaken from the run-in with Ethan. To your relief, the street was quiet, the morning nearing its end peacefully. You grabbed your keys and opened the door as Jason got out of the car.

“Come on in,” you said softly as he walked up the porch steps. It hit you that this was the first time you’d invited Jason into your place. You wondered what he’d think of it — the living room that was always a bit cluttered, the kitchen with a few dishes in the sink. You tried to keep it cozy, but it wasn’t easy to keep things perfectly tidy on your own.

Jason didn’t seem to mind at all. He walked into your place with a confidence you almost envied, casually leaving his car keys on the little table by the hall. You headed to the kitchen, grabbing some mugs from the cupboard to make coffee.

“Let me take care of this,” Jason said softly, taking the mugs from you and setting them on the kitchen table. “Don’t worry about it, kid. Go call your job.”

“Okay,” you whispered, feeling your face heat up a bit before heading to the living room to grab the phone.

Mrs. Higgins was practically relieved you were calling in sick instead of dragging yourself to work like usual. You felt a bit guilty for lying — yeah, getting followed by your ex wasn’t exactly fun, but you were pretty sure you could work just fine after calming down a bit. Still, the smell of fresh coffee drifting from the kitchen and the sound of Jason washing the dishes made your place feel less empty for the first time in a while. And honestly, you wanted him to stay — as silly as it sounded, you just wanted him to stay with you.

“Here you go,” Jason said, setting a mug of coffee in front of you as you sat at the kitchen table. He took a seat too, his expression serious and a bit worried. “Look, kid, I don’t wanna pry, but… You wanna tell me what’s up with this Ethan guy?”

You sighed, staring down at your hands as you clutched the warm mug. The heat seeped into your skin, and you took a grateful sip. You didn’t want to burden Jason, not after everything he’d done for you without expecting anything in return. He didn’t deserve to be pulled into the mess your life had become over the past few years.

“Hey,” Jason said, making you look up and meet his serious eyes. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Please,” you whispered, “you’ve already done so much for me. I don’t want to bother you more than I have.”

“You’re not a bother,” he said, gently tilting your chin up. You blinked, your cheeks heating up when his thumb brushed softly across your cheek. “None of this has been a bother. But it’s not gonna mean much if something bad happens to you.”

“It’s just…” you started, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “I don’t want you to think I’m a mess.”

“I’ve been a mess most of my life, kiddo,” he whispered, letting go of your chin and resting his hand back on the table. You sighed, your heart beating a little off-kilter as you fought the urge to scoot closer to him. “I’m not gonna judge you. I just want to help.”

You sighed, realizing you didn't really have a choice but to spill it all out. Maybe it’d actually be good to share everything that went down between you and the guy you once thought was the love of your life with someone other than Sophie. It felt so dumb now, so childish, how you used to think you and Ethan were meant to be.

“Ethan and I… We were friends since we were kids, and then in high school, we ended up dating,” you mumbled, taking another sip of your coffee before letting out a soft sigh. “I really thought I loved him. I was convinced we were gonna get married, you know? The whole perfect love story thing. But,” you laughed bitterly. “But then he cheated on me. With the pastor’s daughter. On my birthday, while I was working at the pub. And you know how I found out? I went to his place right after my shift, and there they were, just…” You shook your head, looking up while trying not to cry. Even after all this time, it still hurt just as much.

You didn’t need to go into all the details. You didn’t need to explain how Ethan had been stalking you since, trying to explain himself, even though you’d made it clear you wanted nothing to do with him. You didn’t need to tell him how exhausted you were — exhausted from life taking away the things that mattered most to you, over and over again. Because, when Jason hugged you, pulling you close against his chest, you knew he understood you without needing any more words. 

And when he pulled back gently, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your lips, you knew you would never shed another tear for Ethan ever again. 

“I should go,” he said softly, his voice hoarse. You blinked as he pulled away softly, the warmth of his skin leaving yours as your heart raced, your breath uneven as every bit of the anxiety you’d felt earlier was replaced by something else — a need for him that startled you, a pit in your stomach that felt like hunger.

“Please,” you whispered, reaching for his hands and feeling a sigh of relief as his fingers intertwined with yours. “Please, stay.”

And when he looked at you, conflict and desire in his eyes making your heart race, you knew he would never deny you anything if he could help it. 

You knew you had won.

And you knew you wanted him.

taglist: @jameshettywetty

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

[flowerhrt]

the end of love | daisy jones.

pairing: daisy jones x fem!reader

summary: two weeks after your break up, daisy decides to confront you and ask what's wrong.

warnings: it's the 70s, internalized homophobia, eddie being a bit of a dick, daisy is clean and the band is still together, reader is a lesbian.

a/n: i interpret daisy as a lesbian who deals with compulsive heterosexuality.

word count: 2.4k

breathe in. breathe out. it's just one song. record it all in one go, ignore billy's stupid complaints, and then go home. 

well, what used to be home.

 “daisy, you ready to go?” she heard teddy ask from the other side of the recording booth. “yeah, i'm fine. let's get this over with.” the redhead said before taking a sip of the glass of cold water she had next to her. she closed her eyes as she felt the liquid make its way through her throat.

 breathe in. breathe out. she opened her eyes to find the band and camila next to teddy, all smiling encouragingly at her. daisy was about to smile back when the door to the recording studio opened abruptly. “holy shit, tell me i'm not late.” 

oh fuck.

 daisy felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest. why is she here? she was supposed to be in new york, not los angeles.

 “y/n! you are kind of late.. hope it was for a good reason.” warren said with a wink “tell me the guy at least fucks good.” the drummer added while wiggling his eyebrows.

 the blue-eyed singer wanted to disappear. she tried to distract herself by playing with the hems of her long-sleeved white shirt. huh, funny. daisy thought. she always loved it when i wore this one.

 “yeah, warren. he fucked better than you ever will.” y/n answered, not before rolling her eyes at their friend.

 they didn't know y/n didn't fuck any guy last night.

 they didn't know y/n would never fuck a guy. ever. they didn't know y/n was late because she didn't know if she could face her ex girlfriend after she told her she was leaving for good. they hadn't seen each other for two weeks, and it was fucking torture for both of them. they had grown so used to always waking up next to each other, cooking together, and doing pretty much everything together, and god did it feel weird to not see each other for longer than a day. 

daisy felt like she couldn't breathe when y/n left. she always had to remind herself to breathe in and breathe out. it was as if the girl before her took all the oxygen in the world when she walked out of daisy's front door. right. she remembered bitterly as she felt the fabric of the shirt in her hands.

 daisy's front door. daisy's home. 

because she refused to move in with her even after three years of secretly seeing each other. she refused to let anyone know about their relationship. not even simone, who is like… them. and daisy understood, she obviously did.

 it was dangerous to be one of the world's most famous singers and openly date a woman. openly love a woman. openly say the word lesbian. people would crucify you in the street if they knew you were a homosexual. that was the main reason y/n was scared, she was just a tour photographer who happened to become close with the band and fall in love with daisy on the way. if the world knew she was into women, she would never get another job.

 daisy tried to tell her they would be okay, to screw the rest of the world. they loved each other. how could that ever be bad? as far as she knew, love wasn't a bad thing. but maybe she only thought that because she didn't have much experience with it. her parents hated her. men used her. she only has the band, simone, and y/n. had y/n. not anymore. 

“daisy!” her name being yelled at her got her out of the trance she was in. “are you going deaf or are you just high as shit?” eddie asked from the microphone. 

“she's in recovery, eddie. stop joking about that.” she heard a soft voice she could recognize anywhere snap back at him. “right, sorry.” the bassist said with his hands held up high as a way of showing surrender.

 y/n looked at her and they made eye contact for a solid second. daisy gave her a small smile and looked down. “alright, let's get this party started!” warren hollered as daisy put her headphones on to start recording. “okay, the end of love, take one.” 

the redhead remembered to breathe as she heard the first notes of the song.

 i feel nervous in a way that can't be named.

i dreamt last night of a sign that read, the end of love. 

she looked up and saw y/n drumming her fingers against her waist. she obviously knew the song was about her. ever since daisy met the photographer, almost every song she has written has been about her. the singer wrote the end of love the day after y/n walked out of her new york apartment. 

it's pitiful, she thinks. even when they're not romantically together anymore, she still writes about her.

 and i remember thinking even in my dreaming.

 it was a good line for a song. 

daisy tried to steady her breathing but when she looked at y/n she felt like she was about to pass out.

 breathe in. breathe out.

 breathe in. i can't fucking do this. 

the flower-named girl placed her headphones down and said a quick “i need some fresh air.” before storming out of the recording booth. daisy walked through god knows how many rooms, until she found an empty one in the back of the building, she sat on the floor and leaned against the door she had just walked through.

 you dumb fucking idiot, she thought. now they're all going to think you´re singing about someone in the room, or even worse, that you've relapsed and can't record a damn song. she can't go through this again.

 if the band thinking she was in love with billy dunne, when she's not even into men, was bad enough, them seeing her overreact this way is going to make them figure out she has been seeing someone. 

there was a minute of silence while she tried to think of an excuse to say when she gets back into the studio, but it was all interrupted by a soft knock coming from the other side of the wooden door she has been leaning against.

 “i'm fine, karen. just give me a second.” the blue-eyed girl said while running a hand through her long red hair. 

“i'm not karen, but if you want me to go get her, i can do that.” her heart sank as she heard y/n's voice.

 “no!” she heard her own voice answer in a quick desperate way. she grimaced at how pathetic she sounded.

 “well, is it okay if i come in?”

 one beat. two beats. daisy unlocked the door.

 the photographer walked into the room and sat on the opposite side of the singer, facing her. “do you want to talk about it?”

 “talk about what?” 

the girl sighed and leaned her face against the palm of her right hand. “about what just happened. you don't normally walk out of a recording session, daisy. not ever. are you okay?” she asked as she looked straight into daisy's big blue eyes.

 the singer stared back and bit her lip as she felt her eyes start to water. “i miss you.” 

“daisy-” 

“no.” she interrupted. “you say you love me but then decide to break up with me.” she says with a scoff. “without even letting me ask you what i did wrong. without even letting me try and fight for you. for us.” a tear streamed down her right cheek.

 it took everything in the girl before her to not wipe it, the way she always did. 

“listen, i understand being scared. do you think i'm not frightened of how the boys will react if they ever find out we are the way we are? but i didn't care as long as i had you. i know you have your doubts. but why did we have to hide from everyone? simone would never treat us differently. we both know she's a lesbian. just like you and i.” she pointed a finger at herself and the girl who now wouldn't dare to look her in the eye. 

“karen wouldn't either, she's too busy minding her own fucking business to be disgusted by us. even camila wouldn't care, she'd be delighted to know i've never felt an ounce of love for her husband” daisy was fully crying now. god, she loved her girlfriend so much. why wasn't that enough for her?

 “i left for that exact reason.” 

“what?” she asked.

 “you deserve someone who isn't afraid to love you. who isn't afraid of who she is.” y/n continued. “you know, billy and graham saw simone kiss her girlfriend at your birthday party” she said with a sarcastic laugh. “and they didn't give a single shit.” daisy was silent as she listened intently to her ex-girlfriend's voice.

 “when simone realized they saw her, she told them they'd been together for over five years. and shit, they truly didn't care. even warren said it wasn't fair simone found a girlfriend way before he met lisa.” y/n played with the rings placed around her fingers to avoid eye contact. “the entire band knows about simone, and they think it's normal.” 

daisy's heart was racing, she didn't know if it was excitement for simone, because her best friend was able to love her girlfriend without a care. or if it was happiness, because the rest accepting simone could only mean one thing. if the six don't care about simone and her girlfriend, then that means they won't care about her and y/n.

 the photographer was silent for a while, so daisy decided to speak first. “i don't really understand. you left me because you're afraid of them knowing about us. but, you also know they wouldn't care if they find out?” the singer´s eyes scanned her ex girlfriend´s face, trying to find an answer. 

“yeah… it's stupid.”

 “damn right, it fucking is!” daisy sighed. “i love you. you love me. we can at least tell them and simone about our relationship.”

 y/n was the one holding back tears now. “i want to. i truly do.” 

“then what's stopping you?” her voice softened at the sight of the girl she loves the most crying in front of her.

 “I can't openly love you, not when i can't even say… well, you know what.”

 “god, y/n. you didn't tell me you were still struggling with that. i could've helped you.”

 “i know you would've, but i didn't want to be a burden.” daisy slowly raised her arm and caressed y/n's cheek in the soft, loving way she always does. “you're not a burden. not ever. not to me.” the flower-named girl tucked the girl's hair behind her ear. 

“i love you. i love you so fucking much, i can't breathe when i'm without you.” she continued. “you helped me when i was trying to recover from my addiction. you were there when i got out of rehab. you've helped me stay clean.” 

“that was all you, daisy.” 

“yeah, but you were next to me the entire time. the least i can do is be next to you, while you learn to accept yourself.”  “it took me a while to come to terms with being a lesbian, too.” daisy said as she twirled a piece of y/n's hair around her finger. 

“i used to think the only way i could make it into the industry was by not caring about men stealing my music because at least people would hear them. fuck, i forced myself to want them, the same way they wanted me. because that was the closest i thought i'd ever get to being loved.” “but that's not what love is. love is what you and i have.”

 y/n placed her hand over daisy's. “i want to be brave, for you.”

 “you already are. you just need to be brave for yourself. because you deserve it.”

 “thank you, for everything.”  y/n gave her a soft small smile. “you don't have to thank me for anything, seeing you smile is good enough for me.” 

 the two women locked eyes, and they just stared at each other for a small moment. y/n's hands began to shake with desperation, she craved the feeling of daisy against her. and suddenly, she felt a force pulling her towards the redhead girl, daisy placed her hands on both sides of y/n's waist, and instinctively, as if her body was made to be next to her's, y/n placed her hands behind daisy's neck, the same way she has done for the past few years, their bodies were pieces of a puzzle made to be together.

 they both leaned into each other, they were so close, they could feel each other's noses rubbing together, daisy smiled at the sensation. “can i-” daisy started “you don't even have to ask.” the girl interrupted, before smashing her lips into the singer's.

 their lips locked, the two women having been in the exact same position hundreds of times, but this was different. this kiss was about understanding, about forgiveness, about acceptance, about moving forward. it lasted a few more moments until they were out of breath and had to pull away. 

“i love you, daisy jones.” the girl whispered against daisy's lips. “i love you, y/n l/n.” she answered with glossy, vibrant eyes. before getting back into her usual cocky self.

 “well, not to spoil my amazing new song, which is going to be a hit, but there's a specific lyric i think you're going to like.” she said, trying to fight back a smile. y/n rolled her eyes at her girlfriend's antics.

 “oh yeah? what is it?” daisy cupped y/n's cheeks and stared lovingly into her lover's eyes. “i've always been in love with you. could you tell it from the moment that i met you?” the redhead sang before kissing her beautiful girlfriend again, and again, and again.

 daisy still had to finish recording her song, and they still had to explain what took the photographer so long to find her, but luckily, this time y/n wasn't afraid to tell them the truth. 

we were reaching in the dark

that summer in new york

and it was so far to fall

but it didn't hurt at all.

[fleurrreads]

pairings: benny x cop!reader

warnings: none

author's note: based on this request ♡ im not 100% sure how i feel about it. only proofread once so yeah :)

Five beers deep at a small bar you meet Benny. Blonde, handsome, totally off limits. He approached you instantly, softly asking your name. He smirks at the mention of your name, repeating it a few times to get familiar with it. The blush on your cheeks not going unnoticed by him, he takes a seat next to you.

"So where are you from, darlin'?" he taps his fingers on the counter of the bar, a habit he's developed in the past few months. You give him a small smile, "Oklahoma. Born and raised." He raises a brow. "Oh you're a country girl? Would've never guessed that." he chuckles, taking a chug from his beer. You take this time to study his features. Really study them. He truly was a beautiful sight, and he probably knew it too.

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

The evening was going really smoothly, no ulterior motives in sight. Just good company and some laughs. You glance at your watch and much to your dismay it is extremely late, already in the early hours of a new day. "Well darn, it's time for me to head home." you say, grabbing your purse to take out your wallet, as a rough hand envelops yours, stopping you. "Don't worry about it, doll. I'll take care of it." Benny says, giving you a lopsided smile. Your heart jumps in your chest. "No I can't let you pay for it, I drank a lot!" you shake your head, a little giggle following your last sentence. You can't remember the last time you drank this much, especially since you've moved to a new city.

Benny insists, "Genuinely, doll. I got it. You can pay f'the next one." Your mind reels. He wants to see you again, he's made it perfectly clear. You nod, world a bit blurry, as you scribble your number on a napkin on the bar counter. "You can call me, I'm mostly at work during the day tho'." you say, handing him the napkin. He takes it and puts it in his pocket. "Yes ma'am. I never asked you what you do for work." he says, tilting his head to the side. Right, you nearly forget what your job is when he stares at you like that, and you gulp. "I'm a cop." you blurt out, and he chuckles. "Usually I ain't on too good terms with cops." he states, gulping down the last bit of his beer before throwing some money down on the counter and standing up, you follow behind him.

"Why not? You a troublemaker, Benny?" you joke. He laughs, "Somethin' like that."

°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

Benny speeds down the main street of town, surely breaking many road rules as he hears the police sirens wail behind him. He stops, his bike is too low on fuel to outrun them anyway. He sighs, defeated as a familiar silhouette approaches him. You take off your glasses, an amused look on your face. "Well well well... what do we have here? You do know that you were speeding multiple miles over the speed limit, yes?" the amusement never leaving your features as Benny laughs. "Well well. I didn't think that this would be how we meet again, doll." he says, running a hand through his hair.

"What can I do to lessen my fine, officer? I promise this'll be the last time you see me speedin'." he frowns, amusement shining in his eyes.

You sigh, "Tsk tsk tsk, I don't know. What can you give me that I don't already have, sir?" you smirk, enjoying the little game. His eyes widen momentarily, a smug look on his face. He takes your hand, placing a soft kiss, rubbing circles on your hand. "Oh I have a lot I can give you, ma'am. Why don't I take you for a ride?" he says, challenging you. You raise a brow, always one for a challenge.

You get on the back of his motorcycle, arms holding to his sides. Benny grasps your hands, pulling you even closer to him. You feel all giddy inside, your heart beating wildly.

"If I get fired it's gonna be all your fault. 'Just sayin'."

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ☆

[vodika-vibes]

How about this; Jango meets up with a female informant at a night club; this is the first time they've met, but it's instant, very Strong, mutual attraction and after she gives him the information, they burst out of the back door of the club, into a dark alley, making out and end up having their way with each other in the alley.

I'll keep the ideas coming as I get them; feel free to use whichever ones inspire you the most!

The Alder Job

Summary: When Jango Fett needs information for a bounty, he normally goes to his information broker, a Toydarian named Roz. This time, however, Roz sends him to get his information right from the source.

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 2159

Warnings: Smut, mentions of Pedophilia and human trafficking (Jango misunderstands a situation, there's no actual pedophilia or human trafficking)

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So, I very much appreciate all three of the ideas that you sent me and I'll probably write all of them because I love Jango...apparently, lol. I hope you like this one~

Jango is annoyed.

Okay. Jango is often annoyed. It’s his go-to emotion in most situations, but now he’s really annoyed.

“Well? Have you arrived yet?” Roz’s voice is scratchy over the comm.

“Yeah, yeah. Are you sure you can’t give me the information?”

“I could….but I’m not going to. You need to talk to this informant.” Roz replies, before she laughs, “Don’t worry. I told them to look for you.” And then the comm disconnects.

He exhales loudly, trying to shove his irritation away, as he eyes the night club distastefully. He can hear the music coming from the club all the way out to the street.

This is officially the worst job he’s ever taken.

Jango walks over to the bouncer, who eyes him and his armor, before he jerks his head to the side, “You’re expected. VIP section. Don’t cause any trouble.”

As if he would.

Still, Jango nods once and steps into the club, and is immediately assaulted by the scent of stale alcohol and sweat. Distaste, and disgust, cause his lip to curl, but he has a job to do. So he turned toward the VIP section. 

As with most night clubs, the VIP section is cordoned off from the rest of the club. Unlike most clubs he’s been in, this VIP section is situated at the top of an elevator, completely separate from the rest of the club.

The music is quieter up here, and it smells less like stale beer and more sugary. It’s almost as bad as the scent down in the main club. Almost.

The Bouncers up here look a lot more dangerous than the ones down below, but if Jango had to guess, the people up here all have more money than sense, so the better guards are reasonable.

One of the bouncers eyes Jango, but doesn’t move to stop him. Poor guy is probably used to all sorts coming up here. 

Most of the tables are filled with men surrounded by gorgeous, and young, women. Though there’s one that’s clearly a bachelorette party, and another that looks like some teenager’s coming of age birthday party.

But there, in the back, closest to the back door, is a young woman sitting at a private table. She’s alone, with her gaze locked on a datapad in her hand, and she had one knee pulled up to her chest.

And, while Jango’s never been one to put much stock into looks, he has to admit that she’s stunning, and he really can’t understand why no one is giving her a second look.

He crosses the open room over to her, and lightly raps his knuckles on the table. She lifts her gaze from the datapad to meet his, her expression puzzled at first, before it clears and a warm smile crosses her face.

Jango can’t remember the last time someone greeted him so warmly.

“You must be Mand’alor Fett. Please, have a seat.” Her voice is light and warm and Jango is so distracted by the sound of her voice that he doesn’t immediately register what she calls him until he’s seated across from her. 

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” He says, gruffly, “I’m not Mand’alor.”

She pauses, “Ah. Roz indicated that that was your title. Was she mistaken?” Her voice is lightly accented, and Jango can’t get enough of it. He also can’t help but notice that she hasn’t taken her eyes off of him.

“Roz has a tendency to exaggerate.” He finally says as he leans back, and he notices her gaze drop to his chest plate for a moment, before returning to his face. 

Nice to know that the attraction is mutual.

She laughs softly, “I had noticed that, yes. So, what should I call you then?”

“Jango. Just Jango.”

“Well then, Jango,” His name is like honey on her lips, and he curls one of his hands into a fist to keep from doing something foolish. “It’s very nice to meet you.” And then she introduces herself, and he jolts in surprise.

“Wait. Alder?”

She smiles, “As in those Alders?” There’s something wry in her voice, “The one and the same. It’s why Roz asked me to be your informant. There’s no one better to give you the information you need than someone from the family.”

“You do realize that I’m here to kill them, right?”

Her smile becomes even more wry, “Oh, yes. I’m aware.”

“...I’m going to need some clarification before I get any intel from you.”

She laughs, “That’s fair.” She leans back in the chair, and Jango’s gaze drops to her thigh, now exposed since she moved, and then slowly drags back to her face.

“Go ahead.”

“We had a falling out.” She explains with a careless shrug. Or a would be careless shrug, if it wasn’t for the look on her face. “You see, they had…ideas. As to my place in society, and I had different ones.”

“Must be pretty vastly different ideas if you’re okay with them dying.”

“Well, they wanted me to be a trophy wife for my grandfather’s best friend. I had different ideas.” She drops her gaze for a moment, “I was 17 when they started planning my wedding.”

He exhales slowly, “So. Not only are they corrupt, they’re also pedophiles and traffickers. Good to know.” He leans in, “So, about that intel.”

“My mother is holding a gala in 12 days.” She replies, “The whole family will be there. Normally, tickets to these events cost an arm and a leg. But I have a ticket for you.” She slides a ticket across the table to him, “The downside is that it’s black tie only.”

“Of course it is.” Jango taps out a rhythm on the table, “You know the house, anyway for me to sneak my gear in?”

“Hm…you could try to pay the caterers to bring them in and stash them somewhere.” She offers, “Other than that, you might be able to hide the gear on the grounds somewhere.”

“I’m sure I’ll figure it out.” Jango finally says, his gaze dragging down her body again, and then a sly smile crossing his face, “So, you have any other plans for the night?”

“Can’t say that I do.” She replies, as she leans in a little bit, “Why do you ask?”

He smirks at her, and stands, scooping his helmet up with one hand and then motioning for her to follow him. He opens the door, and stands in the doorway, waiting for her.

She watches him for a moment, and then she passes through the door, intentionally pressing her body against his.

And, for the first time in his life, Jango finds himself cursing his armor.

He follows her down the carpeted stairs and into a dimmed hallway, his gaze lingering on the way her hips look in her mini-skirt, on the way the skirt swayed due to her canting walk.

The moment they’re no longer on the stairs he has her back pressed against the wall, and his lips are hot against hers. She kisses back just as eagerly, her arms sliding around his neck to tangle in the hair at the back of his head.

“Kriff,” Jango breathes against her lips, “I’ve never been so annoyed at my armor in my life.”

She laughs breathlessly, “I’ve never been so annoyed at a piece of metal in my life either.” She admits. 

He laughs softly, and presses even harder against her, “I suppose we should do something about that.”

She raises up on her toes and kisses him again, her tongue sliding against his lips for a moment, before allowing Jango to take control back. When he breaks the kiss this time, she’s breathing quickly and her eyes are half lidded, “Later,” She murmurs, in answer to his comment, “I want you.”

Jango’s fingers flex on her hip, “Here? Now?” He murmurs. 

She hesitates, her gaze snapping from one side to the other, before she takes his hand and tugs him out the VIP door.

Jango follows her out the door, down the alley, and into a darker, quieter alley. 

“Here?” She asks him, as he presses her back against the building and slots his thigh between her legs.

Jango quickly assesses the alley. No cameras. No people. Good enough for now.

He doesn’t answer her verbally, instead he just crashes his lips against hers, and moves his leg so he’s able to slide his hands under her skirt. He eases her panties down her legs, and then shoves them in one of his pouches. 

A breathless laugh falls from her and Jango presses her firmer against the wall, “Kriff.” He breathes as his lips fall from hers to latch onto the tender skin under her ear, pulling a moan from her pretty lips, “Later I’m going to make you fall apart over and over, mesh’la.”

“Later?” She asks.

Jango removes his codpiece and presses it into her willing hand, before he adjusts his bodysuit so that his hard cock bounces free, “I need to be inside you,”

She whines and presses against him, “So hurry up.”

“Impatient,” He crashes his lips against hers again, “Arms around me, mesh’la.” Jango waits until her arms are secure around his neck, and then he lifts her and encourages her to hook her legs around his waist. 

He rocks against her a few times spreading her arousal against his cock, and, as an added bonus, making her whine and moan out his name. “You’re so wet, cyare.” Jango murmurs as he nips her earlobe, “Is this all for me?”

“Don’t tease, Jango-” She gasps out shifting and squirming in his arms to try and encourage him to just start already.

He nips her earlobe a little harder, ripping a moan from her throat, “Just for that, princess, I’m definitely going to tease you later.”

“You-” She’s not able to finish her sentence as he thrusts into her, hard and fast, and her words turn into a cry of pleasure as her head falls back. And the only reason her head doesn’t hit the wall is because of his hand resting on the back of her neck.

“Oh no you don’t,” Jango growls as he starts a slow, but hard, pace. “Eyes on me, Princess.” He pulls almost all the way out, before thrusting hard into her.

She struggles to keep her eyes open, but she does. And Jango feels a thrill when she obeys him unquestionably. “Such a good girl,” He breathes, “So obedient. Kriff,” He kisses her deeply, “You’re so tight-”

She arches against him and clenches around him at his praise, and Jango makes a mental note. He’ll have to take advantage of that later. 

“S-sorry,” She gasps.

Jango laughs, “Oh, cyare,” He snaps his hips roughly against hers, “Don’t apologize for feeling amazing-” He adjusts her for a moment, and then snaps his hips against hers again, and she lets out a sharp gasp. 

“A-again. Please. Do that again!” She pleads with him.

“Yes ma’am,” Who is he to obey such a delicious sound? He snaps his hips against hers making sure to hit the same spot over and over. 

Sweat beads at his temple, she really does feel amazing. And it’s been so long since he’s had a partner, he’s not going to last much longer this first time. But she’s not going to go without.

He won’t let her.

Jango dips his hand to where they’re joined, and he presses a firm finger against her clit, rubbing in quick circles. His hips stutter as she clenches tightly around him.

She falls apart silently, her face pressed against his neck, and Jango can’t wait to see what noises he’ll be able to pull from her when she’s in his bed.

“Where-?” Jango gasps out as his thrusts become shallow.

She keeps her legs tightly around him, which he takes as answer enough. A few more shallow thrusts and he’s spilling his seed deep inside her. 

Jango presses his forehead against hers as he tries to regain control of his breathing, and he feels her soft fingers against his cheek. His eyes open and he flashes a cocky smirk, “So, cyare,” he murmurs, “where do you live?”

She laughs softly and drops her legs back to the ground, “Not far.” She admits with a small smile, “Close enough to walk, if I had someone with me to keep me safe.”

Jango watches her fix her skirt, a small smile crossing his face when she reaches out and carefully fixes his bottoms for him, and snaps his codpiece back into place.

“Lucky for you, you have a Mandalorian here to protect you.”

She favors him with a bright smile, “Lucky me indeed.” She takes his hand and leads him out of the alley, “This way, Jango.”

Jango falls into step next to her with ease.

Maybe, just maybe, he owes Roz some nice wine. Maybe.

[tactical-mode]

After a rushed release, I took my time re-editing and reshooting and am now happy with the final product. Lesson learned. Perfectionism is the enemy of putting a product out, but I can afford to take the time to be proud of it.

Between where we left Cloud last time and where we find him in this opening shot, I actually filmed multiple scenes using Remake that took us into the station house, through a combat, up the stairs, and back out onto the street. These scenes were cut because they weren’t in the OG, it’s as simple as that. The 76 shots and ~15 minutes of good footage are waiting on the ancillary hard drive to be used in a music video or something.

[Chapter 01] Scene 10:  Meeting AVALANCHE

(see my post from Episode 1 to read about why I enumerate scenes this way)

This is the first major overhaul to a scene from 7R, and I cut a lot, refilmed, and moved shots around much more than folks might notice, and I had to manipulate a lot to make it seem like Biggs is interacting with Cloud, which he doesn’t actually do in the Remake scene.

The character’s mouth animations surprised me by how well they could be interpreted to be saying the PS1 lines, especially:

Jessie: “--s, this, uh, what was his name again?”

Jessie: “SOLDIER? Aren’t they the enemy?”

Biggs: “He’s a professional, unlike the rest of us.”

Biggs: “He quit them, and now he’s one of us.”

For the dialogue in this scene I blended PS1 and EC. Forever shout out to Yinza for preserving the PS1 script.

(remember to turn on closed-captioning for the dialogue!)

Scene 11:  Opening the Gate

There’s some stage blocking here and another instance where I decide to go with Remake and/or EC’s dialogue over OG. In OG, Barret tells them to split up (they don’t), the player is given the option to rename him, he tells Cloud that he doesn’t trust him, and then he tells the player how to use the controller buttons to run. Yeah, that won’t work. We’re going to keep his one line about trust:

“Ex-SOLDIER, huh? Don't trust ya!” (PS1/Beacause)

“You’d better be worth the money, merc. Every last gil.” (7R)

For this, 7R’s line is the most evocative and gives us just a bit more context for the situation at hand. I’m not super thrilled that it extraneously introduces us to the concept of ‘gil’, the fictional currency of FF7’s world, which isn’t relevant to the story right now (in the OG, Aerith introduces it when selling the player a flower). But the line is just so damn cool. Barret is so damn cool.

I cut the extraneous chatter between Cloud and Wedge here. I added a couple of shots around the door opening, such as moving one of Wedge’s face-muggings and a wide shot of Jessie and Biggs being sneaky.

I blended the different movements of the soundtrack here to match the iconic tilt of the camera up at the reactor. I also made sure to keep the entire sequence timed in such a way that Barret’s cold turn back is accented by the tense cellos. They haven’t said which one of Remake’s many composers is responsible for each individual diversion from Uematsu’s original score, but I would put good money on Shotaro Shima for the cinematic variation that plays during this scene. The forevariance of the Main Theme here is a particularly nice touch.

Scene 12: Combat: Cloud vs. 1 MP and 1 Guard Hound

A combat has begun, which means that our major story moments for the episode are behind us. That’s not to say that there won’t be plot in the following few minutes, but there won’t be dialogue. Enjoy the slow-motion feast for the eyes and ears, I really enjoyed making it.

Because Cloud is the only combatant in these, it’s easy to actually choreograph and re-shoot the fights, finaggling the enemies into the same locations as I use the same moves on them. This fight can be repeated after opening a nearby chest, allowing me to quickly restart it without having to reload, with only minor changes to the starting positions. For instance, in the first scenario, the members of AVALANCHE start on the battlefield and spend the first few rounds taking the lift, whereas they’re already at the top at the start of the second fight.

I really loved the naturally moody lighting on the crew in the warehouse, and cutting back and forth allowed me to mask some of the “jumping around” that the enemies and Cloud do – although not all, as eagle-eyed viewers will see. This will become less possible when more characters become involved in fights, but for the opening encounters I thought it would be important to show how this slow-mo thing could give the impression of fights progressing. Here's my favorite from the cutting room floor:

Scenes 13-14: Through the Warehouse

At three separate times, I mask edits to the score. At the end of the combat, Cloud sheathes his sword, allowing me to cut out 14 bars and restore Uematsu’s original score structure. I then put this opening piano on loop, extending it until enemies are on the screen (it’s masked again by the sound of the lift and by Jessie cutting the wires. In Uematsu’s structure, loops of the song don’t include the timpanis and orchestra hits from the beginning, but 7R’s version does include them, which I think is an oversight. However, it had the unintended upside of scoring the arrival of enemies from behind Cloud really well! Also, we can associate the orchestra hits with Cloud once more as they punctuate him whirling around and preparing to fight!

Fun fact: Bombing Mission has a bpm of 136, so when I found editing the music too repetitive I would use placeholders with the same bpm and then fine-tune it later. Highlights from the playlist I made were Rocket Man, Thunderstruck, Go Your Own Way, Jump (For My Love), and, heh, Sandstorm. 

Scene 15: Combat: Cloud vs. 2 MPs, 1 Guard Hound

With this combat, I chose to introduce the viewer to magic - specifically, Cloud’s ability to cast lightning and ice. In OG, the player learns this by taking control of Cloud down on the train platform, but its quite possible in a playthrough for Cloud to never use magic – and indeed, in 7R he begins with different spell abilities altogether!

However, I feel like this short encounter was the way to introduce magic with the maximum hype possible, and I’m proud of the result. Cloud zaps one MP, dispatches the other with a quick sword slice, then fires off an ice spell to nab the pup.

I tried to have the materia in focus while Cloud was casting in order to provide a visual clue as to where this magic comes from, because it won’t be exposited with dialogue for some time yet.

Scene 16: Combat: Cloud vs. 2 MPs

Around 1 minute of combat footage represents about 2-3 hours of shooting, and about 5 hours of editing. This one took a bit longer because I remained in bullet time so that I could get coverage of the crew running out onto the bridge.

For this combat, I cut out a chunk of the score to make room for the section that uses a variation on the Main Theme, accenting a Cloud hero shot.

Scene 17: The Bridge

This was pretty straightforward to shoot except for cutting out a door puzzle that triggers AVALANCHE running into the reactor. Filming around that was a bit tricky. I also dabbled in my first bit of colour-correction here, as jumping from the gap between sectors back into that metal tunnel was hard on the eyes.

A quick clip of the music to ramp up towards the credits, and about a hundred reshoots of that camera so that it passes between the pipes and not through them. And we're done.

Final Thoughts

I can’t believe anyone reads these things, but if you did, hey thanks. Let me know what you think of the series! And dOn’T fOrGeT tO LiKe aNd sUbScRiBe!

[pink-gladioli]

it has come to my attention that we as a fandom dont talk about axl enough so leave any headcannons/theories/rewrites you have about him!

imma go a rant bellow read more

okay so we all know that axl comes from diggionton or however the heck you spell it right? and he has no last name, my reasoning is that diggington just aint that big so people don't need last names. also most of his family seems to follow the axl name so maybe it kinda works a serionirty thing? like as soon as a son is born the axl name gets passed down onto them and the father becomes "papa" or senior axl.

now when it comes to backstories i feel that axl has a pretty good one, he wanted to become a knight but his dad wanted him to stay home and run the family inn. however i feel like if we were charactize axl as less of a brute, dumb, hungry, pessant boy which lets be honest is what the show paints him as, we would have to a slightly different route. we know that axl was one of the 3 nexo knights that actually wanted to become a knight (lance cleary didn't and aarron doesn't seem to care he just doesn't like all the rules that come with knighthood) so lets use that.

maybe his dad was supportive on him becoming a knight because like we need at least one knight with a good family, it could also show how despite the fact axl wasn't the richest of the group or the most academically smart he was the happiest, but they didn't have the money to pay for the entrance exam or access to a good libary/teacher were axl could learn (remember knighton may be very advance technologically but not socially) so its more of a dream than anything.

however maybe somehow there could be another way to get into the academy and that could be by a recomenidation of a seinor knight. but maybe all the knights in digginton didn't want to bother with writing a letter of recomendation or were just bad knights.

maybe there could have been a grand event were lets say a house caught on fire and no one was willing to go in to save idk whats something innocent, a baby or smth, then boom axl runs in, saves the baby or whatever it is, gets burned in the process and while most of the knights don't admit to the fact that this preteen boy had more guts than them and was willing to risk his life to safe something that couldn't protect itself. lets have 1 knight actually realize how he and his fellow knights of diggonton have lost their values and when axl recovers he sends a letter of recomendation and boom now axl has a chance to get into the knights academy.

cew cutsence of axl working his ass off and boom basic character backstory. but i can already hear that "this sound more like a clay backstory" which yes it would work pretty well for clay but i actually have a different charactization of clay then the show. i think it would be interesting if clay wasn't a knight because it was the right thing to do but instead because he looked up to the ideals of a knight and the determination to get there.

i mean for king halberts sake clay grew up on the streets, he couldn't have gone along carring for every singel person he saw or else he wouldn't have surived himself. and maybe that could be clays main character arc that he realizes that being a knight isn't about doing the right thing because its nobel or honnorable but instead being a knight has it roots in caring and wanting to protect others. and who could he learn that from- AXL BABY! yeah this show needs more of the main five interacting with each other. crap this got long and it probably isn't even readable, oh well

[five-rivers]

Cryptid Crawl! 6

The problem– The main problem– The– Okay, the problem that was pertinent at the moment was that the hunters, cryptid and otherwise, had to leave having seen nothing even remotely interesting, nothing that could be a draw for tourists.  

That meant that, whatever else they did, they could not be seen being anything other than unbelievably lame by the general population.  Of course, the best way to do that would be to keep them from seeing anything.  

The very first piece of prep work Danny and Tucker had done was getting into Jack’s YouTube account and setting it to private.  That was, however, a temporary measure, and in addition to not wanting tourists flooding into Amity Park, Danny didn’t want his parents in hot water with the GIW.  Again.  

Once they filmed, Jack or Maddie could upload videos at any time, so something that would have to be done afterward was getting back into the account, deleting the videos, and corrupting the original files.  Not too difficult, considering that Danny lived with them, had a hacker friend, and could possess technology.  

But for the other groups?  Especially the ones that were filming live?  Not so much.  

They could not see.  Any measures Danny and the others took to stop them had to look either like local kids playing pranks, incompetence, or nothing at all.  Luckily, they were local kids playing pranks, and there was a lot of incompetence going around, lately.  

Danny and Tucker ran through eerily empty streets, listening for the GAV.  They paused, seeing the GAV hurtle past the mouth of an alleyway.  

“Okay, well,” said Tucker, “there it is.  You sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “Who else is going to?”  He went ghost.  “Show me again where the GGBE are.”

Tucker held up the PDA and pointed.  

“Okay, yeah, I can do that,” said Danny.  “I can do that.  Sam, you still managing?”

“Haven’t made contact yet,” admitted Sam, over the Fenton Phones.  “This wig is surprisingly high quality, by the way.”

“Cool,” said Danny.  “Remember, call us if you need help.”

“I’m dealing with two completely normal YouTubers who think you’re some kind of endangered species, not ex-military super-spies.”

“He kind of is an endangered species, though.  Even Skulker says so.”

Danny shook his head and pushed off from the ground.  “Can hybrids even be considered a species?” he asked.  

“The New Mexico Whiptail–”

“It was a rhetorical question!”

.

William Monroe Delaney Montrose Woods the Fourth, generally known as Bill, was remarkable for three reasons beyond his name.  The first was that he absolutely and entirely believed in the existence of cryptids and loved helping Crawly, who he’d met in college, with their YouTube channel.  

The second was that he was a former Navy Seal, discharged due to an elbow injury that had never healed right.  

The third was that his last job was in data analytics… for the CIA.  Nothing special.  He just collated data in a nice, boring, quiet room.  He’d hardly call himself a super-spy.  And he’d quit.  Too stressful.  

But…  All his training did have the side effect of giving him a very good sense for when he was being followed.  

He tried to watch the figure out of the corner of his eyes, excited.  Finally, he was going to see a real life cryptid.  He’d just have to be careful… it was clearly trying to stay out of direct view… he didn’t want to spook it.  Crawly hadn’t noticed yet, either.  He’d have to figure out some way to let them know.  Maybe he could angle the camera towards the cryptid…

“Oh my gosh, Bill, look!”  Crawly jabbed a finger at the space behind his shoulder, and Bill quickly turned to see something black and white skittering around a corner.  “Quick!  Chase it!  This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

Bill needed no further encouragement.  Camera in hand, he ran.  

.

Danny flickered ever so briefly into view in front of the GAV, and to the right.  He probably would be picked up on the cameras like this, but, again, his parents’ videos were the only ones he could afford to be caught in.  As expected, Jack turned the wheel so hard the GAV rocked up on one set of wheels before slamming back down.  Danny reappeared further down the street, at the mouth of another road.  

“STOP MOVING, GHOST!” roared Maddie over the intercom. 

“YEAH!  WE’RE FILMING YOU FOR PUBLIC EDUCATION!” added Jack.  “THE PUBLIC NEEDS TO KNOW HOW TO BLAST GHOSTS LIKE YOU TO SHREDS!”

“NOT TO SHREDS, JACK.  WE NEED HIM INTACT FOR OUR RESEARCH!”

“OH, YEAH!”

“Wow,” muttered Danny under his breath.  “That really makes me want to stop, guys.”  He could, just barely, understand them thinking ghosts were evil.  He didn’t understand how they were still under the impression that Phantom, specifically, was that unbelievably stupid.  “Tuck, am I still on track?”

“Man, I don’t know why you’re asking, you know Amity Park better than I–”

“Why… parkour… expert… how?”

“Uh, Sam?” said Danny.  “I think you’re breaking up.”

“I’m being… chased!”

“Maybe I should–”

“Just a few more roads!  At the rate your Dad drives, that shouldn’t be any time at all!”

“Sam, can you hold out that long?”

There was no response for a long moment, during which Danny almost lost his lead on the GAV.  

“Managed to hide,” said Sam, audibly panting.  “Where did that camera guy come from?  He’s built like a tank and he can move.”

Danny let out a sigh of relief.  “I’ll be there in just a minute.”  He let himself fade into view again, luring his parents down a blind alley.  He phased easily through the brick, turning invisible again.  He did a quick check to make sure none of the people on the other side were too close to the wall - they weren’t - and that no one saw him - the tiger might have - and then the GAV plowed through the brick wall, sirens blazing and PA system blasting.  

“YOU WON’T GET AWAY THIS TIME, GHOST BOY!”

Danny flared his aura, well aware of how that would show up on the GAV’s sensors at this point, and snickered as the GAV crunched over the Groovy Ghost Blasters Extreme’s illegally parked ATVs and dirt bikes in an attempt to get to Danny.

“My bike!” shrieked Brenner.  

“Dude, not cool!  Dude!” repeated Sullivan as Jack hit reverse and rolled over the bikes again.  

“Okay,” said Vid, pulling out her blaster (a Dalvco ripoff).  “We already knew these guys sucked, but this means war.”

She took aim at the GAV.  Of course, according to his parents, anything attacking the GAV had to be a–

“GHOOOOOOOOOOOST!” hollered his parents in unison.  And then the shooting started in earnest.  

Danny didn’t stick around.  Unlike all the humans here, he actually could be hurt by most of the weaponry going off.  

Besides, Sam needed him.  

.

“Hey,” said Az, falling back slightly as Ned expounded on some made up personal story that had only tangential interest to the actual investigation.  “Jimmy.  Do you hear that?”

“Hnh,” said Jimmy.  

“Like, a sort of electric sound.  Like the world’s biggest bug za–”  For the fourth time that day, Az tripped over his shoelaces.  

“Oh, I know what’s really haunted now.  Az’s shoes!”

“Screw you, too,” said Az.

“Yeah, yeah, they’re haunted by the ghost of his coordination.”

Az climbed to his feet and angrily redid his laces.  “If you’re doing this somehow–” he started, threateningly.  

“No, no,” said Ned, “I don’t need to make this look any more ridiculous than it already is.  Are you sure you researched this place?”

“I’m sure,” said Az, gritting his teeth as yet another crepe-paper and balloon ghost drifted down into the camera’s view from who-knew-where.  “I researched.  Extensively.”

“Because as fun as these are, I don’t think they’re actual ghosts.”  He grabbed the balloon and waved it at Az.  “Fun times with local pranksters who are really into the whole Halloween aesthetic?  Yes.  Haunted?  No.  The way things are looking, Amity Park falls squarely into the hoax category.” He gestured broadly, exaggerating his mannerisms for the camera.  

“At least let us get to the next location before you say that, Ned.”  He got back to his feet and smiled at the camera.  “Locals aside, this place is spooky.  An old observatory that was damaged and shut down under mysterious circumstances, it has had numerous reports of lights moving inside, strange sounds, and even the dome opening and the telescope inside moving.  Is this the ghost of an astronomer?  Or, like certain others believe, something else?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of the cryptid YouTubers.  Those lights, though, I’m going to bet they’re kids smoking on the sly, or someone squatting.”

“And on the way there, we’ll drive by a few other points of local interest, such as–”

.

“They’re going to the observatory?” hissed Dani.  “They can’t go to the observatory, Danny will flip!”

Valerie looked at her sideways.  “Which Danny?  Your cousin, or Fenton?”

“Does it matter?  Both of them love that place.”

“Didn’t it get shot up by the GIW?”

“Yeah, and that’s why you don’t mention those guys to him.  He hates them.”

“He’s… a ghost.”

“Yeah, and the observatory is why human Danny hates them.  Keep up.”  Dani leaned forward, careful to keep both her feet on Val’s hoverboard.  She was the one providing invisibility, after all.  “We need to stop them.  We need to get… more drastic.”

Valerie made a face and waved a crepe paper ghost at Dani.  “I’m not sure how much more drastic we can get without advertising that Amity’s got something to hide.”

Dani scrunched her nose in thought.  “Then we don’t do it while hiding anything.  We do it while showing off things.”

“Not my hoverboard or your ghostly face, I hope.”

“No.  We’re going to take a page from my cousin’s book.”

“We’re going to chase a dog into all their equipment and ruin them financially?”

“I mean, that sounds like a good plan ‘B’ if you’ve got a dog we can use.  But, no.  How do you feel about fake-out make-outs?”

.

“Uh, Sam? I’m looking for you, but–”

“Running… again…  swear… last time… I dress up as you.”

“Okay, okay, but where are you?”  There was a sort of scraping sound from the Fenton Phones.  “Sam?”

“I’m okay!  Nasty Burger.”

“Gotcha.”

Danny changed direction and arrowed down to a very familiar alleyway, where Sam was stripping off her costume.  She threw the wig at Danny as soon as she saw him.  

“Get ready to run,” she said breathlessly as Danny transformed.  “Those weirdos are fast.”

“I don’t know if we have any room to call other people weirdos,” said Danny.  He pulled the wig over his hair, then phased the rest of the suit off of Sam, who was struggling with the zipper.  He didn’t like his chances of fasting the suit on, though, and phased off his shoes before starting to pull the costume on.  The material was much thinner and filmier than his own hazmat suit, and wouldn’t be much protection against, well, anything.  “How’d you get away if they were so fast?”

“Cut through Amity Antiques,” said Sam.  “Ms. Larson made them go around.  No cameras in the store.”

“Smart.”  Danny phased his feet back into his shoes.  

“Thanks.  Contacts.”

“Right, right,” said Danny.  He phased his hand through his suit and into his pocket.  “Contacts.”

He hated this part.  Putting stuff like this in his eyes felt wrong.  Worse than swallowing sporks.  But, the ‘Amity Park Phantom’ had super noticeable glowing green eyes, so the ‘fake’ Phantom had to as well, and for Danny’s sake, those glowing eyes had to be caused by contacts.  

These ones had been produced by his parents after Walker’s invasion.  The idea was that a human could use them to walk unmolested among the overshadowed, but when no testing opportunities came up, the concept was abandoned.  

Danny opened the case, and already regretting every life choice that had led him to this moment, stuck one in his eye.  “That hurts.  I don’t know how people do this.”

“You get thrown through buildings daily.”

“That’s different,” whined Danny.  

“I’m getting pings from Cryptid Crawl’s phone, moving to your location,” said Tucker.  “Better get a move on.”

“Heck,” said Danny, squeezing in the other contact.  “Go rest in the Nasty Burger, I’ve got this.”

“I’ll try to shadow you after you leave,” said Sam, “but don’t expect anything fancy.”

“I’ll zig-zag,” said Danny.  

Sam patted him on the back and moved past him.  Time to do this.  

Danny ran back out into the street, but stuck to the shadows, scanning everything.  He had no idea how cryptids were supposed to behave, but he figured–

Holy moly, Sam was not kidding when she said that guy was fast!  He wasted a disbelieving second staring at the sheer speed at which that absolute tank of a man approached him, but he was too used to being chased by unreasonably huge and fast guys to hesitate any longer.  He bolted, using every piece of cover and concealment he could.  

He glanced over his shoulder.  The guy was actually gaining on him.  After chasing Sam on and off for at least ten minutes.  What was this guy made of?

Danny tapped into his ghostly strength and put on a burst of speed.  

… The guy also put on a burst of speed.  

That was scary.  

“Tucker,” said Danny, “which way am I going?”

“Give me a second.”

“They’re hanging out in front of the Skulk’n’Lurk,” said Sam.  “They’re posting live, Tucker.”

“I’m just trying to find the best route!”

“A better one than he can find on his own?”

Danny looked back again.  What was this guy made of?

.

Valerie and Dani stepped onto the street just within view of the cameras.  They were both wearing glasses, to protect their identities, and had swapped headgear - Valerie’s headband for Dani’s beanie.  

“Are you sure about this?” asked Valerie.

“Absolutely!” chirped Dani.

“I don’t think this is actually going to stop them from going to the observatory.”

“But it might make them stop and think, right?”

“... You know, I saw the post about this on the forums, right?  And the whole thread?”

“Shush.  Threads don’t matter, now,” said Dani as they crept deeper into the camera’s field of view.  “I think this is good.  You ready?”

Valerie rolled her eyes.  “Ready when you are.”

This had the side effect of making Dani freeze for a solid minute.  “Uh,” said Dani.  

“You can back out if you–”

Dani rammed her face into Val’s, probably way too fast, because kissing didn’t seem like the kind of thing that was supposed to hurt.  They did various things with their lips for a few seconds, and then pulled apart.  

“Uh,” said Dani, eloquently.  

“Yeah,” said Val.  

They both looked towards the ‘Investigation,’ the members of which were, in fact, staring at them.  

Val pumped her fist in the air.  “The only ghost here is Sappho of Lesbos!” she said, her voice wobbling.  “Yeah!  Girl power!”

“Girl power!” repeated Dani.  She hadn’t heard of any ghost going by that name, but she supposed that Danny couldn’t keep her one hundred percent up to date on his rogues gallery.  There were just a lot of them.

At that moment, Dani was slammed into from behind by none other than her beloved cousin-clone, who was dressed as a bad caricature of himself and running at what had to be something approaching a world-record pace.  Danny, who didn’t have the worst set of reflexes in the world, but did have the most ridiculous set of reflexes, picked Dani up, threw her over his shoulder, and kept running.  

“Is he still following me?” asked Danny.  

“Wh- Who?” asked Dani, lifting her head to see that Danny was being chased by either a red-faced fridge or an extremely buff dude who was pushing himself so hard all the blood in his body had gathered in his skin in preparation for exploding (if that was a thing humans did; Dani was a bit uncertain on the finer points of anatomy).  “Oh my gosh, that’s scary.”

Meanwhile, Valerie had recovered from her surprise.  She started running after them.  “Hey!” she shouted.  “Bring back my girlfriend!”

“Oh,” said Dani, pleased that Valerie was getting so into the act.  

“What are you doing standing there?!” shouted a man wearing a hat that said ‘DIRECTOR,’ his voice starting to go tiny from distance.  “Wasn’t that one of the ghosts?”

“Ahhh!” said Danny.  “Why is that guy so scary?!”

“Why are you scared?” demanded Dani, who had already forgotten that she, too, had been scared.  “You’re a ghost!”

“He’s just scary!”

“Bet I’m scarier!”

Danny’s fingers clenched tightly on her hoodie.  “No.  Are they following us?  All of them?”

“Not yet?”

“Rrrrrrgh,” said Danny, rounding a corner and doubling back down the other road.  “I hate this!”

.

Ned had never thought any of their ‘investigations,’ not even the Investigation, would ever lead to something real.  The image of that thing chasing that boy and grabbing that girl…  It filled him with equal parts wonder and fear.  

This special was going to make them.  They’d be famous forever as the ghost hunters that proved the existence of the supernatural.  

Jimmy put a hand on his shoulder.  

“Not now, bud,” said Ned.  “We’ve got a chase.”

Jimmy did not let go.  Not even when Az and the rest of the crew packed up and took off after the ghost.  

“Edward, dearest,” said Jimmy.  “My heart has been uplifted by the actions of those two young women, and I should like us to express ourselves as they did.”

“Aw, come on, Jimmy.  That’s sweet, but the network would kick us both out in minutes.  Not to mention we’d pasted across every TV in America as the latest scandal.  The shame would kill me.”

“You said it yourself, my love.  What paranormal investigator has self respect?  Let us throw it all to the winds of chance, and let them carry us away.”

Ned blushed.  “You make these things sound so nice.  But… maybe after we get the ghost.  You know how much this means to me.”

“Hng,” said Jimmy.

.

Danny re-emerged on the original street, which still held some of the crew and cast from the TV show.  “Help me find somewhere to crash believably.”

“There!” said Dani, pointing at a small lot with some abandoned construction in it.

“Perfect!” said Danny, throwing himself in that direction.  Time to absolutely eat it on live TV.  He cast himself on the mercy of the lot, and wiped out spectacularly, coming to rest against the fence at the back of the lot.  

The buff guy just… Stopped.  Then very slowly sat down.

“Hi,” said Danny.  

“Ow,” said the guy, which was fair, actually.  

The guy from the Investigation got there next, and spent the next thirty seconds staring reverently at the buff guy while the camera people set up.  “Incredible,” he whispered.

“Oi!” shouted Crawly, clambering over a stack of pipes.  “Back away from the cryptid!  We’ve got evidence to film!”

“You step away from the ghost!” countered Az.  “Our evidence is more relevant to the human condition!”

“The Amity Park Phantom is not a ghost!” Crawly countered in return, stabbing a finger at Danny.  

“What are you talking about, that’s a kid in a costume!”  

“No it–!  Wait, who are you talking about, then?  What ghost?”

“The one standing next to you!”

“Wh– This is Bill.  My cameraman.  Is this because he gets flushed when he exercises really hard?  That happens to everyone!”

“No, actually, it–”

Danny shifted, which was enough for Crawly to zero in on him, only to recoil.  “What,” they said.  

“Well,” said Danny, coughing only a little bit as he got to his feet and pulled off the wig.  “I am just a kid in a costume.”

[mediawhorefics]

hiii can you please recommend me some gay novels ? thank you in advance :)

hell ! yeah !

you didn't really specify what genre you're interested in beyond gay so i'm just gonna rec my favs and go wild with it. apologies, i've prob. recced these books before but *shrug*

edit: i added books that aren't novels cos i couldn't resist. ooops?

edit 2: i've taken gay to mean gay ~umbrella term~ and not gay mlm, hope that's alright x

under a read more cos i got carried away !

the raven cycle | maggie stiefvater | completed series | ya | fantasy | follows blue sargent, the daughter of a skilled psychic who augments her family's abilities, but has no psychic power of her own. she becomes friends with four boys from the local boarding school -- gansey, adam, ronan and noah -- when she meets gansey's ghost and learns the upcoming date of his death. gansey is obsessed with finding the sleeping welsh king, glendower. In his pursuit of the legend, he and his friends encounter all kinds of mysticism and danger in henrietta, virginia.

the dreamer trilogy | maggie stiefvater | completed trilogy | ya | fantasy | raven cycle sequel focusing on ronan's character.

the disasters | mk england | ya | sci fi | star trek vibes | found family | a band of space academy rejects are the only witness to a terrible crime/galaxy-wide conspiracy & are the only ones who can save the day. 

emry merlin series | robin schneider | incomplete trilogy | ya | fantasy | arthuriana | a knight's tale meets bbc merlin | years after her father’s, legendary court wizard merlin, disappearance, emry takes her far less talented twin brother’s place when he is summoned to camelot to train and become prince arthur’s right hand wizard. studying magic properly is everything she hoped for, but posing as her brother isn’t as easy as it seems. not to mention those sparks that are flying between her and arthur.

cemetery boys | aiden thomas | standalone -> a sequel is planned | ya | fantasy | trans rep | yadriel wants to prove himself as a brujo (and a man) to his family so, in secret, he performs the ritual meant to unlock his powers that his family has denied him access to. only problem, he’s accidentally summoned a ghost he didn’t mean to and the guy won’t leave. also his cousin vanished and his spirit is nowhere to be found.

the last binding series | freya marske | incomplete trilogy -> the third one is coming out in november | historical fantasy | alternative edwardian england | romance | each book focuses on a new queer pairing while following an overarching mystery | when an administrative mistake names robin blyth as a civil service liaison to a hidden magical society, he discovers what’s been operating beneath the unextraordinary reality he’s always known. a dangerous deadly curse awaits him as he navigates the magical bureaucracy with his standoffish counterpart edwin courcey.

the kingdoms | natasha pulley | standalone | historical fantasy | time travel | alternate history | 19th c. | 18th c. | joe tournier has amnesia. he remembers nothing prior to stepping off a train in londres, england, a french colony. his only clue, a century-old postcard of a lighthouse in scotland, illegally written in english rather than french and signed m.

the watchmaker of filigree street series | natasha pulley | completed duology | historial fantasy | 19th c. | sherlock holmes vibes | telegraphist thaniel receives a mysterious watch on his birthday whose pre-set alarm saves him from a terrorist bombing on scotland yard. since the bomb was made with clockwork parts and only the bomber could have known when to set the alarm, thaniel is sent by a detective investigating the bombing to live with the suspected watchmaker to figure out what’s going on.

the bedlam stacks | natasha pulley | standalone -> twofs references/characters but not part of the main storyline | historical fantasy | 19th c. | magical realism | merrick tremayne is called upon by the india office to go on a dangerous expedition deep in peru to fetch quinine (essential for the treatment of malaria) despite the debilitating injury that almost cost him a leg. every expedition before his has yielded no results apart from dead bodies, but merrick has family history deep in the country so he goes against his better judgement. there, he meets raphael, a priest surrounded by strange stories of disappearances, cursed woods and living stones, and who might hold the key to his family’s past.

the binding | bridget collins | standalone | historical fantasy | 19th c. | romance | in a world where books are dangerous objects containing people’s painful memories they want to get rid of, emmet farmer is sent to become an apprentice to the local bookbinder after he had some sort of mental collapse.

captive prince series | cs pacat | completed trilogy + some short stories | historical fantasy | romance | no magical elements | dark themes | major trigger warnings apply | prince damianos of akielos is sent as a pleasure slave to laurent of vere, prince of an enemy neighbouring kingdom, by his treacherous half-brother who wants the throne for himself. the court of vere is a pit of deception and lies and both princes must reluctantly ally with each other to gain rightful control of their respective kingdoms. only problem, damen killed laurent's older brother auguste in battle and must keep his true identity secret to protect himself from laurent's hatred of his brother's killer. which is only complicated by the growing feelings between them.

a taste of gold and iron | alexandra rowland | standalone | historical fantasy | romance | kadou, the shy prince of arasht, has no intention of wrestling for imperial control with his sister, the queen. yet he remains at odds with one of the most powerful ambassadors at court - the father of the queen's new child. when a hunting party goes terribly awry and he finds himself under suspicion of attempted murder, kadou teams up with his new bodyguard, the coldly handsome evemer, to investigate a break-in at one of their guilds to salvage his reputation. but what appears to be a straightforward crime spirals into a complex counterfeiting operation, with a powerful enemy at its heart.

the house in the cerulean sea | tj klune | standalone | fantasy | romance | found family | 40 yo caseworker linus baker is given a special secret assignment to check out an orphanage of supposedly particularly dangerous magical children. linus has been a rule follower and someone who doesn’t want to rock the boat his whole life, but the children and their caretaker make him reconsider previously held beliefs.

under the whispering door | tj klune | standalone | fantasy | romance | found family | an unpleasant and selfish man in life, wallace price meets his reaper at his near-empty funeral and gets taken to a whimsical tea shop where he meets hugo, the ferryman whose job it is to help him move on and crossover into the afterlife. a task that becomes complicated as wallace starts developing feelings for hugo.

peter darling | austin chant | standalone | historical fantasy | romance | trans rep | peter pan retelling | ten years ago, peter pan left neverland to grow up, leaving behind his adolescent dreams of boyhood and resigning himself to life as wendy darling. growing up, however, has only made him realize how inescapable his identity as a man is.but when he returns to neverland, everything has changed: the lost boys have become men, and the war games they once played are now real and deadly. even more shocking is the attraction peter never knew he could feel for his old rival, captain hook—and the realization that he no longer knows which of them is the real villain.

the song of achilles | madeline miller | standalone | historical fantasy | mythology retelling | greek mythology | a classic ! | achilles' story, great love, and tragedy...

salt magic skin magic | lee welch | standalone | historical fantasy | 19th c | lord thornby has been trapped on his father’s estate by a strange curse for a year and when industrial magician john blake shows up, they must team up to investigate the mystery.

the secret lives of country gentlemen | kj charles | first in a series | historical romance | regency era | a shabby london clerk who inherits a grand house on the remote romney marsh is unexpectedly reunited with an old lover and gets unexpectedly thrown in the world of smugglers.

the will darling adventures | kj charles | completed trilogy | historical romance | 1920s | it’s the 1920s and tensions are rising along with hemlines. soldier-turned-bookseller will darling finds himself tangled up in spies and secret formulas, clubs and conspiracies, bbolsheviks, blackmail, and bright young things. and dubious aristocrat lord arthur ‘kim’ secretan is right in the middle of it all:  enigmatic, unreliable, and utterly irresistible.

the gentleman’s guide to vice and virtue | mackenzie lee | ya | historical romance | 18th c. | bisexual disaster nobility youth goes on his grand tour on europe with the best friend he has a crush on and his sister. nothing could possibly go wrong.

the seven husbands of evelyn hugo | taylor jenkins reid | historical romance | old hollywood | 1950s | 1960s | 1970s | aging and reclusive hollywood movie icon evelyn hugo is finally ready to tell the truth about her glamorous and scandalous life. but when she chooses unknown magazine reporter monique grant for the job, no one is more astounded than monique herself. why her? why now?

the charm offensive | alison cochrun | standalone | contemporary romance | reality dating show producer dev has always believed in romance/fairy tales and he works tirelessly to ensure magical happy endings happen on his show, even though his own love life is a disaster. but when disgraced tech wunderkin charlie is cast as the lead of their next season, dev has his work cut out for him to transform charlie into a man the ladies on the show might want and the viewers might like. charlie is far from a prince charming but as they get closer and closer, dev starts realising he might want him for himself. uh oh.

i kissed shara wheeler | casey mcquiston | standalone | ya | contemporary romance | a month before graduation, chloe green’s academic rival shara kisses her before disappearing. now, chloe is on a hunt for answers alongside unlikely allies.

one last stop | casey mcquiston | standalon | contemporary romance | time travel | a 23-year-old realises her subway crush is displaced from 1970's brooklyn, and she must do everything in her power to help her - and try not to fall in love with the girl lost in time - before it's too late.

red, white, and royal blue | casey mcquiston | contemporary romance | new adult | alex, son of the us president, and british prince henry have to fake a pr friendship after a scandal at a royal wedding puts us-british relations at risk. only problem? they despise each other.

check please | ngozi ukazu | graphic novel | new adult | contemporary romance | coming of age | bitty, a southern ex-figure skater armed with a love of baking and a vlog joins his college’s hockey team and falls for his captain, the prodigal son of a famous nhl player whose own draft was derailed by an overdose of anxiety medication.

angels in america | tony kushner | theatre | aids | angels in america is the story of a gay man, prior alter, a 30-year-old New Yorker, whose lover, louis, abandons him when he falls ill with aids. transcendent forces—visions and angels—help transform Prior from a man dying of aids to a man living with aids. along the way, several romantic and platonic couples come apart, and the final social configuration of the play comprises a loose band of multi-generational, multiracial, queer friends.

the normal heart | larry kramer | theatre | aids | focuses on the rise of the hiv/aids epidemic in nyc between 1981 and 1984, as seen through the eyes of writer/activist ned weeks, the gay founder of a prominent HIV advocacy group.

love song to lavender menace | james ley | theatre | in 1982, two friends bob and sigrid opened their new radical lesbian, gay and feminist bookshop, 'lavender menace' on edinburgh's forth street. on the eve of the shop's 5th birthday, sales assistants paul and david take a look back at its origins, in this funny, moving play.

this is how you lose the time war | amal el-mohtar & max gladstone | sci fi | literary fiction | epistolary novel | time travel | an epistolary story told by two future beings, operatives on opposing sides of the "time war" tasked with ensuring that past events happen in ways that are amenable to their goals.

on earth we're briefly gorgeous | ocean vuong | literary fiction | epistolary novel | a letter from a vietnamese american son to his illiterate mother.

night sky and exit wounds | ocean vuong | poetry

time is a mother | ocean vuong | poetry

crush | richard siken | poetry

brokeback mountain | annie proulx | short story | two ranch hands, come together when they're working as sheepherder and camp tender one summer on a range above the tree line. at first, sharing an isolated tent, the attraction is casual, inevitable, but something deeper catches them that summer.

fighting proud: the untold story of the gay men who served in two world wars | stephen bourne | non-fiction | history | wwi | wwii

coming out under fire: the history of gay men and women in world war two | allan bérubé | non-fiction | history | wwii

fabulosa!: the story of polari, britain’s secret gay language | paul baker | non-fiction | history | linguistics | 19th c. | 20th c.

[onboardsorasora]

Max in a suit is delicious and I think Tennis!Dan agrees. Its Prize Giving Season for our Champs

Part 1 | Part 31 | Part 33

Part 32

Daniel leaned against Max’s shoulder in the car that took them through the Baku city streets. He was a little nervous about going to the FIA Prize Giving Gala. It was about to be a whole night of pomp and circumstance and honestly he expected to be bored out of his mind. Mentally, he was already preparing to deal with the WTA gala the following week.

He glanced over at his boyfriend and a smirk pulled at his lips, he looked amazing. Yummy even, in his tuxedo. He'd flicked Max's floppy bowtie and Max had huffed a laugh at him in return.

Max's hand rested on Daniel's thigh, thumb brushing over the fabric that covered the flower tattoo. He gazed out the window disinterestedly and Daniel couldn't help but stare at his profile that got lit up periodically by streetlights.

“So what can I expect tonight? Sit at the table and look pretty?” Daniel teased. Max snorted and squeezed his thigh.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Max thought for a moment, staring at the roof of the car. “They're gonna have me doing a bunch of interviews and giving trophies to other champions y’know. Of course, it's a lot of boring stuff.”

“It's lot of responsibility being champion.” Daniel laughed when Max scowled at him.

“Obviously I would rather we are at home with the cats. Than doing all of this stupid shit for the fia to feel better about themselves.”

“Well you have the easy job Maxy, you get to talk about racing all night. I have to be interesting to everyone else.”

“You are of course, very interesting Daniel.” Max cupped Daniel's cheek and pecked his lips just as the car rolled to a stop. Daniel gazed adoringly at Max before schooling his expression to something more toned down and not so private when the door opened to the flashes of photographers.

They walked the blue carpet, stopping for each publication before posing at the main backdrop at the top of the path. They made a stunning pair in their sharp tuxes. Daniel's hair was styled perfectly, not a curl out of place, to match the textured waves of Max's haircut.

They were led into the ballroom and shown to their seats before the first PA came and collected Max. Daniel went to the bar, getting a glass of red wine before walking around to look at everything that was on display.

There were some cars, well parts of them, an old McLaren sidepod here, a Sauber front wing there. He stood in front of an older Red Bull that had Max's name printed on the side and sipped from his glass. The placard called it the RB12 from 2016. 

He tried to remember how his own 2016 season went, if there would be anything from that year worth putting on display. Maybe his racquet from Wimbledon? He didn't know, this was a Blake question.

Someone stood beside him, one hand holding a glass of something and the other in the pocket of his trousers. Daniel glanced over and Mark smiled back at him, it was always good to see the other man. 

“What's the significance of this car? I know I'm missing something.” Daniel grinned openly when Mark snorted at him.

“I'm surprised you didn't Google Max or something.”

“I did! Like when we first met.” Daniel laughed and shrugged as if to say that he didn't remember what he read. What did he need to read Max's wiki page for when he could be spending his time basking in his presence?

“This is the car he got his first win in. He'd been called up mid season to replace Daniil and he won the first race he drove for Red Bull.”

“Ah yeah I get it now. He said they're gonna like wheel out Rocky when he collects his trophy. So it'll be kinda like a first win last win sorta uh juxtaposition– is that the right word?”

“Yeah something like that.” Mark confirmed. 

“Oh great, now I gotta call the WTA and have them put out like my socks from my first win or something. Can't have Max show me up at my own prize giving.” 

Mark clapped Daniel on the shoulder as they laughed together before Oscar saddled up and they began chatting about cricket and Aussie rules football.

 A PA came to collect Oscar and then Daniel and Mark separated to find their seats. Daniel was relieved to see Geri sitting beside his assigned seat and he gratefully plopped beside her exaggeratedly.

“Thank God, I thought I was gonna be bored by myself.” He rested his head on Geri's shaking shoulder and she laughingly patted his cheek.

“Don't worry, I'll keep you entertained.” She grinned.

“You look lovely by the way. A vision.” Daniel gushed as he eased up. 

“Thank you darling, you look gorgeous yourself. You clean up nicely when you're not wearing clothes with holes in them.” she teased him back, giggling at his wounded face.

“Ginger! I thought we were friends!” Daniel laughed, unable to keep up the bit. They chattered for a little bit longer, taking selfies together and teasing Christian who had come to sit before the ceremony started. Christian watched them warily, knowing from previous experiences that nothing good came from them teaming up against him.

Daniel smiled when Max crossed the stage, presenting trophies to the various karting champions. He looked sweet, doting on the children. Daniel's phone then vibrated with a new message, only two contacts could breach his DND.

Maxy❤️

Second floor men's room.

Daniel smirked as he got up, meandering to the back of the ballroom and through one of the exits. He found the bathroom relatively easily and ducked in quickly after making sure the coast was clear. The hallway had been deserted but you never know.

Max engaged the lock behind him and Daniel spun to see his beautiful boyfriend grinning at him.

“Hey Champ.” Daniel teased and Max pressed him against an empty wall. They kissed hungrily, grasping at each other like starving men. As if they hadn't seen or fucked each other for weeks.

Max swallowed Daniel's moan as he pressed his thigh in-between Daniel's. Daniel rutted against the thick muscle, breathing deeply.

“Fuck…” Daniel groaned and Max sank to his knees before him. He watched as his boyfriend made quick work of his zippered fly and swallowed his cock. Holding in his moans became harder. 

Max was insistent, and thorough. He worked Daniel over, licking and groaning as if he was about to win the world championship of dick sucking. Daniel wanted to give him every trophy ever.

He was barely able to keep his hands out of Max's hair, instead clenching the shoulders of Max’s jacket and biting his own fist when that became too much. The heat of sensation zinged up and down his spine and it truly took all of his willpower to not thrust into Max's mouth. Even if he knew the man on his knees would appreciate it.

He came with a long exhale that turned into a wanting groan as he watched Max swallow every drop and then lick him clean. Daniel stood against the wall, dazed, while Max set his clothes to rights. When he stood, Daniel grasped Max's jaw and pulled him closer, kissing his swollen pink smirking lips and licking a smear of his own come off of Max's lip freckle.

“Mmm fuck I should get you a trophy if this is what I get when you're supposed to collect em.” Daniel smiled lazily against Max's lips, feeling his huffing laugh.

“I don't think I told you how incredible you look.” Max offered as an explanation with a shrug.

“You don't look too bad yourself beautiful. especially up there being amazing.”

Max flushed, looking away shyly at the compliment. They lingered in each other's presence for a little longer before deciding to make a quick getaway.

Daniel made it back to his seat without any issues, presenting Geri with a new glass of wine as an excuse for his absence. She smiled and accepted the glass before explaining what he missed.

Red Bull’s trophy was then awarded and both Daniel and Geri stood in applause. Lewis and Sergio collected their trophies afterwards and then Max's award was called. Daniel didn't expect for the backdrop to open up and Max to walk out flanked by Rocky and backlit dramatically. He looked amazing, very powerful and important and Daniel needed him again– now.

He took pictures and mentally undressed Max as he stood there smirking to the crowd, speaking into a mic with his breath smelling like Daniel's dick and come. Daniel couldn't wait to get back to their hotel room.

[kazeofthemagun]

@shiroi---kumo is desperate...

There is a sudden yank on the man's cloak without warning as a small pale hand starts to pull at it with an ever quickening pace as if whatever has caught his attention is urgent.  If one would turn to look at the man of the clouds they would see that his sights have fixated on a fruit stand of the local bazaar of this town they have managed to not get themselves thrown out of yet anyway.

"Black Wind." He sounds only to yank at the man's cloak with a bit more urgency. "Black Wind."

His voice joins in this supposed bazaar and the Misterican cannot tear his eyes away from the stand in question. Towards the back of the display sets a singular melon of a slightly dark rind and the swordsman will not pull his gaze away from it.

He can smell it from here even several feet away from the stand just across the way. The man of white clouds has locked onto that singular fruit like an expert marksman locked onto a target.

"Black Wind. Black Wind. That melon. I need it. I need it. Can we get it? Black Wind please."

He'd just go buy it himself if their shared funds hadn't been relieved from his hands since the last time he went shopping in the last town they were in and the prince found himself getting swept up by expert level swindling. It's intoxicating and he would know that smell anywhere. There's nothing quite like Makea Meloni and it's flooding his system in such a nostalgic way, he knows he would spend any amount of money just to get his hands on it again. He can't be trusted with their funds right now.

"Black Wind please."  He didn't even know one of it's plants survived...

A head of dishevelled crimson turned to glance at the uncharacteristically fixated Cloud, blue eyes following jade to the stand that had ensnared his attention. "Hm?" A curious rumble sounded from behind the man's tall collar, followed by a grunt as a passersby pushed past them rather obnoxiously.

The town they had found themselves in was holding some sort of festival, with seemingly endless masses of people pouring onto the main street from every direction. He noted the differences in garments - travelers from all over the Sector, perhaps beyond, had gathered here just for this day. Paper beasts of various colors paraded through the city, forcing the crowds to part and allowing the Unlimited to actually move through the bustle.

Ironically, large crowds such as these were one of the better opportunities to blend in, as everyone was too busy simply trying to squeeze into the bazaar to pay much heed to foreigners. And it certainly helped they weren't the only ones. Wonderlanders of all shapes and sizes browsed the stalls and enjoyed the performances, effectively making the two wanted men invisible.

Still, he had told White Cloud not to wander off alone - just to be safe. Well, that - and he did not exactly trust the damn fool with the gil. Not after the time he somehow overpaid tenfold for street food. For Winds' sake, how did one even do that? He was beginning to wonder whether it could be considered some rare form of talent.

...The bearer of said talent was now repeating his name with increasing urgency, so he pulled him aside to avoid being trampled by a passing creature. Having successfully avoided yet another careless local, the Wind turned his attention back to the Cloud.

"Yeah. I hear you." He assured, once again setting his sights on the fruit stand. And there, at the center, lay a rather large, coarse-looking fruit with dark skin. It looked like a somewhat ordinary melon, alright. The gunmage briefly wondered just what about it could have seized the prince in such a chokehold that he was willing to become a speed bump in the middle of the road when he remembered.

Oh. Right. The smell of sugar, huh?

While a Windarian's sense of smell was keen, his people never had an evolutionary reason to home in on that scent in particular, and at times it took conscious reminding that his Other could sense things he could not. Hearing-wise, he was more than used to the Misterican stopping him only to announce he had pinpointed a voice from miles away, upon which the gunmage simply nodded and trusted the swordsman completely. Conversely, the younger seemed all but blind at dusk, and it fell to Kaze's sight to guide the way for them both. Alike as they were, they were just as different - and they were still feeling out exactly where one's strengths slotted against the other's weak sides.

"Yeah. I've got you. Wait here." The elder sounded as he headed for the stall in long strides, taking care not to get swept away by the stream of people and creatures.

Kaze stood before the shopkeeper, awaiting his turn before prodding for the elderly man's attention. "Hey."

....Part-deaf, or something? "Hey." He repeated more forcibly. That seemed to do the trick, and the merchant turned to face the much taller man. "Oh? Yes, good Mister? How may I help you?"

Kaze wasted no time, pointing towards the sizable fruit. "That one," he said. "How much for it?"

As if on cue, the old man's eyes lit up with a spark of vigor that likely belonged in the gaze of someone half a century younger. "Ah-ah! You got a keen eye, eh? That one's a beauty, alright. A special." And the Soil mage just knew this conversation was going to be entertaining....Sarcasm.

Oh, why did royalty only have a nose for the specials?

The shopkeeper tapped a finger against the greenish shell. "This one isn't from around here at all. In fact, it's the fruit of an imported plant that only grows in the snow, and it's a whole pain to cultivate in this climate. Quickly became a delicacy round these parts, and it's only in season for seven weeks a year. You're lucky, because this is the last one I have."

Kaze's expression was already beyond grouchy. "Yeah. I don't care. How much?"

The old man's features warped in a dramatic manner - the outrage in his eyes plain. Kaze, however, failed to give a proverbial shit.

"That's gonna be 10.000 gil."

The Wind's glare narrowed in an instant. "Bullshit."

He had half a mind to simply walk away, before his thoughts were suddenly dominated by the image of wide, wet jade eyes. Ahh, saßu. Guess he was playing the game, then.

"Half that or no go." He growled.

"You insult me! 9000."

"7000."

As irritated as he was, his glare remained stalwart and did not budge. "7000 and you can have this." He slipped a dark purplish scale on the counter.

The shopkeeper blinked a few times before taking the offering in his hands and smoothing a thumb over its surface. "Mister, that genuine? Well, alright then. You can have it."

The Windarian said nothing more as he took the exotic melon into his bag and disappeared into the stream of people.

White Cloud's patience paid off at last when the former general arrived with his haul. There was a hint of a bitter scowl against sun bronze, but even the man of the Black Wind could not bring himself to be truly angry at the time. "Here." He sighed, mostly just relieved to be done with it. If either of them had to barter, it better be him, after all. He was positive the prince's childish sparkling eyes would have seen him charged twice the asking price, right off the bat.

"You better enjoy it to the fullest, do you hear?" Though his tone was ever the same sullen monotone, there was affection in the gentleness with which he placed the fruit into the younger's arms.

It may have costed them out the arse, but at least the scoundrel had something he really needed, no?

[eiirisworkshop]

I am currently feebly shaking my Star Trek OCs, Bryn and Leryk in my mind like rag dolls, but the next fic they appear in is no where near finished—

(it's a sequel to the TOS 5-year-mission-era fic, Chiaroscuro, I introduced them in)

—so there's not much for me to do but mentally shake them like rag dolls.

But! I found, buried deep in my fanfic folders, the first thing I ever wrote of them! It's an old version of what is now their shared backstory (as referenced in Chiaroscuro and explored some in the OC-tober fills I did for Leryk a few years back). It's not quite 100% canon to them as they now exist, but I still think it's cool to see where they started (and to remember that I changed how I spell Leryk's name, and see my Trek lore errors from lack of research lol; I think this was written during class, I couldn't readily check Memory Alpha or Beta).

Anyway, I figured I'd share it.

Warning for parts of the story below the cut containing consent issues due to pon farr and characters not knowing what's going on with that.

-----

Baliel Alpha VI, 2251

A seven year old boy sat cross legged in the gravel of the main street, his back against the corner of a building cobbled together from bulkheads, his dark blond hair catching the sunlight as he built a small castle out of the powdered bluish stone that gathered at the edges of the road, stuck together with meltwater from the remnants of the last ice storm. A scuffle down the street at the shuttle port caused him to look up.

“Earth? Like hell! You're lucky I'm dumping you here instead of blasting you out into space, you stowaway rat!” a man, probably a cargo captain, yelled. He had another boy—older than the one sitting at the roadside—by one pointed ear, and was shaking him. The boy was grimacing but didn't cry out, he just stared up at his assailant with pale, clear eyes set under sharply angled brows. The man pushed the boy to the ground and stomped back into the port.

Carefully, with more grace and dignity than any Human would have expected of a child his age, the pale-eyed boy got to his feet, dusted off his thin, travel worn clothes, and crossed his arms against the cool air. He didn't move, just stood in the middle of the street, doing a pretty good job of not looking lost. None of the adults around paid him any mind, they were all used to out of place children showing up without warning. The other little boy, noticed though. He abandoned his half built castle to take a few steps toward the newcomer. “Hey!”

The dark haired boy looked around. One side of his short, black hair was sticking up in a way clearing indicative of having slept wedged between cargo crates.

“Hey,” the younger boy walked closer, “you just got here, huh?”

The older boy nodded.

“Yeah, I saw. I'm Bryn.” Bryn smiled.

A silent moment passed. “Leryc.”

“That your name?”

Leryc nodded again.

Bryn nodded too. “You look cold.”

“It is cold here.”

Bryn frowned then shrugged out of his own heavily patched jacket and held it out. “Don't think it'll fit you but put it around your shoulders?”

Leryc hesitated then carefully reached out to wrap long, thin fingers, angry green with cold, around the collar of the coat.

2257

Bryn fell face first into his hammock with a sigh. Curled up with an old, bound paper book in the mound of blankets that passed for his bed on the other side of the room, Leryc quirked an eyebrow at his shack-mate. “Still Eila?”

“She kissed me now she won't talk to me,” Bryn said into the thick fabric of his hammock. He sat up. “I don't understand.”

Leryc turned a page. “Well, I don't understand any of it so I doubt I can offer you any help.”

“You're like eighteen right?”

“In Terran years, yes.”

“So why is it that I have girl troubles and you don't?”

“I've not interest in girls.”

“Boys?”

“Nor in boys.”

“Whatever Rhi is?”

Leryc made a face of disgust. “Definitely not whatever Rhi is. The kid has a great personality but the slime sacks still make me a little sick.”

“Is there really nobody you like?”

“Bryn,” Leryc set his book on his knees, “if I'm like my mother's people, I've still got another two terran years before my sexual development catches up to where yours is now. Besides that, I don't see what concern it is of yours who if anyone I consider a potential mate.”

“We're friends and we live together. According to every single story I know of about roommates going back some four centuries, 'potential mates' is something we talk about.”

“You've only been a teenager for four months, you have plenty of time to talk about plenty of things.” Leryc blew a puff of breath at a lock of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

2262

Bryn sprawled on the mat floor of his and Leryc's common room—it had once been their shared bedroom, but over the years they'd been able to add onto their one room shack enough for them each to have their own bedroom and a proper bathroom to share. He chewed absently at the rind of a local fruit. "Eila dumped Markel." "Oh?" Leryc didn't look up from the old terminal he was repairing. Bryn handed him a laser driver. "For the same reason I did last year: he's a self centered ass." "Glad you and Eila are in agreement." Leryc poked at the interior of the terminal and frowned, slanted brows contracting. "This thing is thoroughly fried." Bryn sat up and flicked Leryc's tiny tuft of a ponytail. "Not gonna be able to fix it?" "Oh no, I will fix it." "I believe you." "Old lady with the birds still trying to match you up with potential partners?" "Yes." Bryn sighed. "And she's running out of humanoids." "Shame." Bryn snorted but he didn't say anything. He just watched Leryc work. Graceful fingers combing through tangles of wiring, icy silver eyes narrowed in concentration. Deliberately, so Leryc could see what he meant to do and prevent it if he wanted, Bryn reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind one of Leryc's elfin ears. Leryc allowed it. Bryn grinned. He knew Leryc's strict maintenance of his personal space generally didn't extend to him but confirmation still made him feel good. Leryc glanced at him. "What?" "Nothing." Leryc nodded and returned to his work. Bryn didn't know – he couldn't, Leryc had let him believe for years his Vulcan blood hadn't brought with it any of his mother's people's Disciplines – but that touch, so near his temple, sent a spark into the base of Leryc's brain. Not for the first time, he felt what Bryn felt for him: a wary admiration and affection beyond their friendship, different than anything Leryc had ever felt on his own. He didn't say anything. Acted like he didn't know. Certainly never let on that he knew Bryn knew that somehow he knew how he felt. The next morning, Bryn—always a later riser than Leryc—trudged out of his room to find, for one thing, the terminal fixed, for another, the bathroom door open showing Leryc clutching the edges of the sink while he vomited.

“Leryc?” Bryn hurried to his friend's side and carefully held back his hair. “Are you okay?”

Leryc retched again, shook his head, grabbed the towel off its hook, and wiped his mouth. “I don't know,” he said hoarsely.

“I've never seen you sick.”

“I know, I—” Leryc lowered himself to the floor and pressed a hand to his flank at the bottom of his right-hand ribs where his heart was beating as though he'd been running. He took a deep breath. “Maybe I ate something bad.”

“I ate everything you did.” Bryn crouched next to him, frowning.

“Could be bad for me and not for you.”

“I guess.” Gently, Bryn smoothed back the front of Leryc's hair. His skin was unusually warm, about as warm as Bryn himself. “I think you have a fever.”

“I should go back to bed.” Leryc pulled himself to his feet.

“Yeah.” Bryn stepped out of the way. “Maybe—maybe try to meditate?”

Leryc glared at him. “I don't do that.”

“I know but maybe you should, just a little. It's partially a regulatory thing, right? And I know you were there long enough to be taught how.”

“Yeah.” Leryc scrubbed a hand over his face. “Maybe.”

Bryn watched his normally graceful friend trudge back to his room. When Bryn returned from the day's chores and errands that evening, the door to Leryc's room was still closed. When he tried to check on him, Leryc snapped at him to go away. The same thing happened the next morning. That night, having noticed that none of their food had been touched, Bryn put together a plate and carefully let himself into Leryc's room. “Hey,” he said softly, blinking to adjust to the dim, “don't think you've eaten in a couple days so I brought you something.”

Leryc uncurled from the ball he'd wound himself into on top of his blankets. He was shirtless, unusual for the perpetually cold desert creature living on a planet prone to spontaneous ice storms. Bryn took another step toward him. He lashed out, knocking the plate out of Bryn's hands and sending it flying across the room. He grabbed Bryn by the wrist and pulled him down, causing him to yelp. Suddenly on his back, Bryn gaped up at his friend. “What the—? Are you okay?”

Rather than answering, Leryc rubbed his face against Bryn's cheek then pressed his mouth to the pulsepoint under his jaw.

Bryn jerked away. “What the hell are you doing?!”

Leryc gripped his shoulders to keep him from moving, fingers like iron near painfully tight. He looked down at Bryn, breathing ragged, the silver of his eyes reduced to a slim ring around wide, black pupils. “I need this,” he said, voice hoarse.

“'This?' What is—” Bryn looked away from Leryc's face to how he was crouching over him, pinning him inescapably to the bedding. “Sex?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes.” Leryc pressed his face to Bryn's throat again and inhaled deeply.

“What?”

“Now.”

“Now?!” Bryn heard his voice jump an octave as one of Leryc's hands released its hold on his shoulder and went instead to the closure of Bryn's trousers. “I—” Bryn took a breath that filled his lungs with sandalwood and copper “Okay,” he closed his eyes, “okay,” reached up and ran his hand along Leryc's side to where his heart beat against his ribs, “okay.”

~

Bryn woke naked, curled around what might have been a pillow or might have been a wadded up blanked, feeling vaguely like he'd been dropped from a height onto the rocky wasteland to the north of the colony. Slowly, he unbent his spine with an achy groan and peeked out from under the blanket that covered him. He could see Leryc wrapped in another blanket, sitting next to the trash can, head bowed behind crossed arms propped on tucked up knees. Bryn sat up, wincing as his did, and saw, as he wrapped his own blanket close around himself, that there were bruises gripped into his arm. He figured he had bruises elsewhere as well.

“Leryc?” he asked quietly.

Leryc flinched and curled tighter around his knees. “I'm sorry.”

Bryn frowned. He looked under his blanket. Bruises on his hips, a few lighter ones on his ribs, and he thought he could feel some on his shoulders. He was sore but nothing seemed too bad. “I think I'm okay.”

Leryc looked up. “That's not—” He looked away. “I'm sorry.”

The whites of his eyes were tinged green and there were deep circles beneath them. Bryn wondered if he'd slept. “Are you okay?”

“What?” Leryc's brow creased with confusion. He shook his head. He put a hand over his eyes and took a shaky breath. “I— Why are you asking if I'm—? I r—” He turned quickly to retch into the trash can but nothing came up. He finished in a ragged whisper, “I raped you....”

"What?! No!" Bryn instinctively lunged forward and immediately regretted the action. "Oh, owe.... No. No, no, no, no, no. That is not what happened." "Look at you!" "Rough sex does not equal rape!"  Bryn pulled the blanket tighter around himself. "Look I don't know what the fuck last night was about and I hurt in places I didn't know I had nerves and I'm kinda freaked out right now for several reasons but I told you okay, I said you could."  He sucked in a sharp breath. "I said it and I meant it." Leryc blinked several times, looked down at his hands, and shook his head. "I don't remember that." Bryn rubbed at his forehead between his eyes and sighed. "I told you okay." "I hurt you." "Yeah, that wasn't exactly the most pleasant fuck I've ever had and I'm seriously gonna want an explanation but I'll live." He grimaced. "Might need a chiropractor but I'll live." Bryn stretched uncomfortably. "Are you okay? Have you slept? When's the last time you ate? Were you high or something? 'Cause you seemed pretty damn strung out. I hope you weren't high, I really don't want to have been your first just because you were toasted. That was your first time wasn't it?" Leryc looked away and nodded once. "It was." "So for twenty four years you've done absolutely nothing then out of nowhere you just have to fuck me?" Bryn asked with far more bite than he'd expected. "Yes." "You bastard, you've got to know I have feelings for you!" "Yes, I know, I've known." Leryc fisted his hands in his hair. "I never said anything because I didn't return them." "Now all of a sudden you do?" "I honestly don't know, Bryn," Leryc snapped. "If you don't know then what was last night?" Leryc closed his eyes, leaned back against the wall and let out a long breath. "Pon-fahr." "I don't know what that means Leryc.  I'm sure I've heard it but I've heard a lot of things and I don't know what any of them mean." "I don't know how to explain." "You better fucking try." Bryn swallowed past a lump forming in his throat. "I like you, a lot, you're my best friend and I think you're gorgeous. I am all kinds of okay with having sex with you, but I wasn't counting on the bruises and what I'm starting to think is a pulled muscle in my back and I'm not gonna just be okay with that for nothing." "Pon-fahr is, well, for one thing it's not something that gets talked about." Leryc sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "It's like heat I guess." "Heat? Like a cat in heat, heat?" "Yes. I don't know all that much, what I do know is the knowledge of a child about something he's not supposed to know exists yet." "Oh come on, you left when you were twelve." "Vulcan boys don't hit puberty until nearly twenty, things like this weren't of any immediate concern to me at twelve!" Leryc slammed his fist against the wall. He stopped and looked at his hand as though he'd never seen it before. His knuckles were grazed, a viridescent drop oozed from from the torn skin of one of them. He folded his other hand over it. "Starting in puberty, Vulcans—and apparently I—experience pon-fahr once every certain number of years. I forget exactly how many. Symptoms include aggression... I don't know exactly. Not vomiting though, I'm sure of that." "You've been puking for days." "I know. I don't know why that is." Leryc propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his hands. "The thing about pon-fahr, first thing you know about when you start to learn what it is before ever bring told, is it's you mate or you die." He looked up. "Bryn, last night, I really wasn't myself, and I'm so sorry, but I had to. I don't remember you saying it was alright and I don't think it would've changed anything if you hadn't."

For a long, stunned moment, Bryn said nothing, then he laughed darkly, shook his head, and got stiffly to his feet. “I can't believe this. I'm going to go take painkillers and go back to sleep.” He made for the door but paused to put his hand on the top of Leryc's head. “Eat something.” He left the room.

Bryn spent most of the rest of the day in his hammock, reading, trying not to think—or feel his body's protests of the previous night's rough treatment. He only left occasionally to use the bathroom and once that evening to get himself dinner. He noticed with some relief that a package of fish sticks had absented itself from the freezer. By the next morning, he was less stiff and his bruises had started to fade so he pulled on a long sleeved, high collared shirt and set about his usual routine. He barely caught a glimpse of Leryc all day; when Bryn got back to the house in the evening from making his rounds, doing various odd jobs—fixing a heater, helping install a skylight—Leryc was in the common room. The moment Bryn opened the door, Leryc stood and made for his room without so much as trying to disguise his fleeing as anything other than what it was. Bryn was perfectly content to let him go. When the pattern continued the rest of the week, however, Bryn's attitude started the shift.

“Leryc.” Bryn had come out of the bathroom after showering to find his housemate rooting through the cupboards. He looked up quickly and made to bolt but Bryn, hair still dripping, stood between Leryc and the door to his room. “Leryc, you haven't spoken a word to me in ten days, can we talk?”

Leryc stared at a point on the wall, jaw set.

“We need to talk.”

“I'd like to point out that you're the who walked out.”

“Because you'd just told me you would have raped me if I hadn't consented, that's not an easy thing to take in stride.”

Leryc shut his eyes. “Could you please step aside?”

“Leryc!”

“I've asked you to step aside.”

Bryn bristled, then obeyed. “Is this it it now, then?” he asked as Leryc passed him. “We're gonna just live in the same house and not talk? Is that how you want things?”

Leryc stopped but didn't turn. “No, that is not how I want things.”

“Then let's talk!”

“Not now, Bryn.”

“Then when?”

“I don't know.”

���For fuck's sake, Leryc.” Bryn stomped over and took one of Leryc's hands in both his own and didn't let him flinch away. “The longer you hide more freaked out I get.” He hesitated a moment. “I love you and last week was not how I ever would have wanted to change our relationship from friends to something else so, I guess, I want to—” He let go of Leryc's hand with one of his own, ran his fingers along Leryc's jaw. “I want to try again. Get it right.” He leaned up to kiss him.

Leryc turned his head away. “Bryn,” he said carefully, “prior to ten days ago I was essentially a prepubescent child.”

“I know.” Bryn smoothed his hand against Leryc's cheek only for him to jerk away again.

“Have I mentioned the touch telepathy thing?”

Quickly Bryn clasped his hands behind his back. “Yes, I'm sorry.... This is not going how I meant for it to.”

“I cannot deal with this, Bryn.”

“You're going to have to learn to.” Bryn shook his head and took a breath. “There's no going back to before last week, for either of us but especially you.”

Leryc closed his eyes. “You're my friend. I don't want to hurt you.”

“You won't hurt me.”

“I already did.”

Bryn made a sound of exasperation, grabbed Leryc by the jaw and kissed him firmly, warmly. Leryc stiffened. Bryn traced a finger along the shell of his ear then pulled away. “The rape thing freaked me out—”

“I know,” Leryc breathed.

“And the avoidance thing is starting to piss me off—”

“I know. When you touch my face I can sort of feel your thoughts.”

“I know.” Bryn nodded and traced the line of one of Leryc's brows making his breath catch. “So you know I love you, as a friend and also in a distinctly not prepubescent way.”

“I don't know what to do with that.”

“I do!” Bryn thumped his hands flat on Leryc's chest then curled his fingers in the fabric of his shirt. “I mostly know what I'm doing. Last week, that sucked in a lot of ways, I don't want that to be all I know of what we could be.”

Leryc nodded slowly. “So you want to try again.”

“So I want to try again.” Bryn smiled faintly. “Maybe have you remember it this time.”

[earth-ambassador-jim]

Lost Souls: Story 13

Judging a Book by its Cover

Lost Souls Summary: Merlin awakens early from his  sleep. He decides  that he doesn’t want to leaving anything to chance  and kidnaps the young  James Lake Jr. to began training his Trollhunter  as early as possible.

Barbara  is  determined to hunt down the man who kidnapped her son. In her  efforts  to get her son back she finds a strange old radio that speaks to  her in  a woman’s voice. The radio leads her to an underground society  of  shapeshifters.

Mother and son meet again years later as strangers on opposing sides.

AO3 - Fanfiction

~~~~

~~~~

GDT Arcane Books is a small store on the main street of Arcadia. The space it now occupies has been empty for as long as Toby can remember.

The sunshine is bright and the air warm as he and Darci linger in front of it.

“So ready to enter a world of mystery and magic?” He asks her in a dramatic wavering tone.

He wiggles his fingers and eyebrows for emphasis.

Darci giggles at his theatrics and then holds her arm over her nose as if she’s hiding behind a cape.

“After you, my dark lord,” She says using a terrible Dracula accent.

“Now now!” Toby tries to sound business like. “We’re looking for wizards here not vampires.”

“You’re no fun,” Darci says poking him in the side.

Toby chokes on the laugh he’s been holding in.

“Hey not the sides! You know I’m ticklish.”

Darci smirks.

Sensing danger Toby quickly darts into the relative safety of the store.

He pauses upon entering, eyes struggling to adjust to the dark interior. The store is two stories joined by dark wooden spiral staircase. Not an inch of the walls is visible through the shelves. They overflow with a multitude of books of all kinds. Strange knick-knacks and oddities flicker and peer from any space between the books. The few plants cluster around the window vying for the little natural light.

“Woah.”

Toby is somehow shocked to not see dust covering everything. How did they get all of this in here so quickly?

“Yeah,” Darci agrees in a hushed voice coming in behind him.

“Welcome to GDT Arcane Books.” Says an accented voice from behind them. “We have all your magical and mystical needs. Anything I can help you with?”

Toby jumps a little and turns around.

To the left of the door is a desk and behind that desk is a darkhaired teen who looks like maybe a highschool senior or a college freshman. A black cat with a strange white marking on its chest is perched on his shoulders.

Toby sputters for a moment before Darci takes over.

“Hello...” She pauses and her eyes scan the cashier’s name badge. “Douxie. Do you have anything about Merlin?”

“Hmmm,” Douxie taps his chin and the cat climbs across his back to his other shoulder. It squints at them through eerie gold eyes before settling to washing its face with a paw. Toby realizes with a start that the cashier’s eyes are same color as the cat’s.

“We have quite a few. Are you looking for novels, mythology, legends, theories, or poetry?”

“Mythology, legends and theories would be good,” Darcie says.

“Ah! Are you doing some research?”

She nods.

“In that case you will want to go to the second level, back of the last shelf. Would you like me to show you?”

“No. We’re good,” Toby quickly cuts in.

“Okay, let me know if you change your minds.”

The bookstore has an incredible variety of books from trashy vampire romance novels with oil paintings of shirtless men on the cover to large volumes that look like they were unearthed from the runes of a castle to what appear to be academic textbooks. If someone had told Toby that this shop had literally every book relating to magic he would have believed them.

The two of them make their way upstairs. Toby has to keep himself from drooling of the wicked awesome crystals that were displayed all over. Does he have plenty of amethysts and emeralds? Sure. Would he take more? Heck yeah! Anyway these ones just have a gleam to them that draws him in.

They reach the shelf and by unspoken agreement Darci starts on the right side and Toby on the left. They slowly work their way in pulling out books at random and leafing through them.

Eventually Darci finds a book comparing different narratives of King Arthur and Toby a book about the origins of Merlin. It doesn’t seem like enough so they move to the shelves on the back wall that are labeled “Magic”. If magic is real –and they are certain it was- they need to know what they are up against and how to fight it.

“What about this one?” Darci says finally.

Toby comes over to look at the book she is holding.

“An Introduction to Basic Magic and Wizardry,” The title reads.

Toby snorts.

“Sounds like a textbook,” Toby says.

They open it and peruse the table of contents. There are sections labeled things like:

“The Evolution of Magic”, “The Where and When of Beginning Practicing the Mystic arts”,  and “Who’s Who: the Different Types of People that Use Magic and What Sets Them Apart.”

Toby stares at it for along moment and finally says:

“This really sounds like something Strickler would assign us.”

Darci hums.

“Right?” She tucked it under her arm. “I’m going to buy this one… If I can afford it… There isn’t a price tag. What kind of store doesn’t have price tags?”

Toby shrugs.

“I’m look just a little more.”

“Okay. I’m heading down to see what this costs.”

Toby is left alone in the top floor of the book store. It isn’t too bad as far as bookstores go, he decides. Maybe it’s the timeless feel. New books and old books live here side by side. He feels like if he stays here a thousand years might pass on the outside or maybe just 5 seconds. (Perhaps if he digs deep enough he could even find the things he’s lost.)

Finally, at the bottom of the shelf, a worn leather-bound volume catches his eye. Toby carefully pulls it out and examines it. It’s called “A Treatise on Trollish Geology.” It’s written by someone named Dictatious Galadrigal which is one of the weirdest names ever. And the translator’s name is just as strange. The title sounds super dry and boring but when he opens it the pictures are vibrant and draw him in. Beautiful gems the likes of which he’s never seen before. Even if it’s probably fantasy he wants to read it.

He tucks the book under his arm but rather than making his way down the stairs he hesitates. He peers over the railing and sees that Darci is happily petting the cashier’s cat. He has some time then. He wanders along the shelves peering at strange knick knacks and oddities. He’s half gawking, half looking for something. What he’s looking for he isn’t sure.

“Toby?” Darci’s calling him.

He starts toward the stairs. He pauses and glances back for a moment before making his way down.

“Ah… A Treatise on Trollish Geology,” The cashier says. “Haven’t read that one myself. I do need to let you know that book isn’t for sale. It’s actually a rental. Is that okay?”

Toby blinks but nods.

“How much is it to rent?”

“It will be eleven dollars a month plus a deposit that you will get back after you return the book in good condition. I will also need you to fill out a slip with your name and address.”

“Okay.” He actually doesn’t mind coming back. He can’t say why but he still can’t shake the feeling there is something here he’s supposed to find.

~~~~

The bell rings as the duo exits the store. Douxie and Archie watch for a moment, waiting to see if they would come back in. They don’t.

Archie hops down from Douxie’s shoulder and puts his glasses on.

“An odd duo, don’t you say?”

“Yeah,” Douxie says with a frown. “Did you notice anything?”

“Well the short one lives with a lot of cats,” Archie says, tail flicking. “Two males and three females. One of them is…”

“Anything magic related. They were able to pick out those books so they must have some ties to the magic world.”

“Mmmm… Yes... but it’s faint. They both have potential but in different areas.”

Douxie nods.

“We’ll keep an eye on them then. We could certainly use more wizards in Arcadia. We’ve barely set up and there’s already more odd stuff than anywhere else we’ve lived.”

“Indeed,” Archie says. “They are a bit young to be helping out, however.”

“I know… perhaps in the future.” Douxie moves out from behind the counter and starts to work on stacking more books. He chuckles. “I’m always tempted to give out some random personal trivia fact about Merlin whenever people look for books on Arthurian Mythology.”

Archie sighs.

“Well for the sake of our continued secrecy I am glad you are showing restraint.”

Douxie eyes him curiously.

“Are you sure there are changelings in Arcadia?”

“There is a Trollmarket,” Archie says matter-of-factly. “Where there is a Trollmarket there is bound to be at least a handful of changelings monitoring it. Trolls are nowhere near as sneaky as they think they are and it is to the benefit of changelings that no one knows about trolls.”

“True.”

Just then the bell rings at the front door. Archie puts his glasses away and shifts to all fours before jumping back up to Douxie’s shoulder.

“Welcome to GDT Arcane Books,” Douxie says as he emerges from behind the shelves to greet the customer. “We have all your magical and mystical needs. What can I help you with?”

The customer who just walked in is a tall red-haired woman. She has a lined and worn face but the sharp blue eyes that watch him from behind a pair of glasses are calculating.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Archie sniff the air and then bristle.

Fortunately spending a few centuries doing customer service does wonders for one’s poker face, so Douxie keeps an easy and relaxed smile on his face.

“I just wanted to come in, since you are new in town,” She says, turning in a slow circle. “This is a very nice store.”

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” Douxie asks.

He would really like a clue on her motives.

“Probably nothing that you have,” She evades with a chuckle. “So I’ll wander around a little.”

“Of course! Let me know if you need anything… Mrs..?”

“You may call me Dr. Lake,” She says.

Interesting phrasing there. Archie’s tail tightens around his neck.

“I go by Douxie,” He responds with an easy smile.

Dr. Lake nods and then strolls off into the shelves.

Once she is out of sight Archie and Douxie exchange a glance. The cat hops off his shoulder and then to the floor behind the desk. A moment later, Douxie spots a small black fly buzzing in the direction Dr. Lake had gone.

Douxie debates finding an excuse to work on the shelves in the area Dr. Lake is but decides against it. It’s better to let Archie do the spying.

A half hour passes before the woman leaves the store. She doesn’t purchase anything but she does ask about their rental system so Douxie suspects she might be planning to come back.

As soon as she’s gone, Archie buzzes back to the desk and transforms back into a cat.

“So,” Douxie says. “What’s got your hair up on end? Find out anything interesting.”

“Maybe, but most importantly, I’m sensing traces of Morganna’s magic from her.”

Douxie stills, the book slipping from his suddenly nerveless hand.

“Like possession-type or…”

“I don’t think it’s a possession,” Archie says. “But we should definitely find out all we can.”

“Did you see any themes in the books she was looking at?”

“A lot of stuff about the fair folk, a few books about basic magic, one about theories on the ties between language and the invocation of spells.”

“Hmmm.” Douxie taps his chin. “An interesting set. What do you think she’s up to?”

“Sounds like a deal gone bad to me,” Archie says. “That or she’s learning to use Their magic. Or she’s made a deal with one of Them and is preparing for interactions with others. It’s hard to say with how little we know.”

Douxie sighs.

“Why does Morganna have to crop up again? Can’t we be done with her?”

Archie rubs his head on Douxie’s chest.

“We knew she wasn’t really gone. Those with the Old Blood do not die easily. Even if they are part human.”

“I know,” Douxie says.

Absently he rubs at his wrist. His nails lightly scratch the shiny raised patch of skin peeking out from under his bracer. Archie places his head over the scar and Douxie starts stroking him instead.

“So what do you think we should do?”

“What we have been doing,” Archie says.

“Keep watching and waiting?”

Archie nods.

Douxie sighs. Sometimes being a wizard is not all that it’s cracked up to be.

[alfhitchblonde]

More Stranger Things WIP

More of THIS

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Descriptions of a PTSD episode and mentions of Panic Attacks

The weight of weed kept her grounded. Kept her from spiraling. It wasn’t that serious. 

“Pass me the joint Chris?” Nancy held her hand to Chrissy who smiled, taking a long drag before handing it to her. 

“God I never would have imagined myself here,” Chrissy sighed. “This is lovely.”

“Yeah,” Nancy agreed, taking a long, hard hit. “Me neither.”

“I can,” Robin stared at the two women, a dopey smile on her lips. “I can’t count on anything after the Russians.”

“Robin!” Nancy gasped as Chrissy laughed. Which in turn made Nancy laugh. She felt so light. Who cared? Who cared about the mountain of NDAs they signed. They were higher than a kite and not like these guys had any clue. 

“Russians?” Eddie looked back at them, holding a tape in his hands. 

“Russians,” Robin nodded solemnly before giggling. “Oh my god Nancy you didn’t see them.”

“Were they hot?” Chrissy asked. 

“Absolutely not,” Robin shook her head. “These ugly ass men.”

“Ugh,” Chrissy collapsed on the floor. “Shame.”

“Okay…” Eddie glanced at them all which Nancy to laugh. This was all absurd and normal. Nothing in her life in the last three years had been normal. But here she was, watching movies with friends and getting high.The TV turned to life as Eddie pressed play and the girls quieted down. Nightmare on Elm’s Street flashed across the screen and Nancy felt herself relax. Nothing could be as scary as the shit she’d seen. Nothing could beat a demogorgon standing above you, millions of sharp teeth lunging at you. That, combined with the weed, should make this a piece of cake. 

Nancy had forgotten that the main girl in this movie had her name but it was fine. It was okay. 

“Fingernails? That made me remember the dream I had last night?”

Fingernails. Like Vecna’s long clawed fingers, like the vines that had crawled up her skin. Nancy took a deep breath, trying to ground herself. 

It is a fucking movie, Wheeler.

“Watch this!”

So what if Freddie Kruger looked a little like Vecna? The burnt, holey flesh reminding her of One. Sounded like him too. The rough, rasp of his voice was similar to how Vecna had sounded, the way he had growled. She was fine. Fine. 

Breathe Nancy. Fucking breathe.

Watching Tina floating, captured in her own nightmare made Nancy want to scream. She tightened her fingers into the blanket, trying to focus. She thought Tina’s hair was blonde not red? It looked so much like Max’s. How Max had looked floating in the air. Did Tina always looked like Max? The actress was a carbon copy, she sounded like her too. The wailing like Max’s when she couldn’t see before they had lost her for several days. 

Nancy could feel Robin’s eyes on her. She didn’t need them. She was fine. Fine. She was in Eddie’s trailer. She was in Eddie’s trailer.

Vecna was smiling, the pulsing under his translucent flesh shining in the lights. “Nancy Wheeler,” he sneered. “Sweet, selfish Nancy Wheeler. Look at you now. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A broken girl who uses weapons to get her way. Selfish, selfish Nancy Wheeler. Breaking the heart of two boys whose only crime was to love you. You say they are bullshit but you’re the one that’s bullshit. Can barely keep your friends, your brother alive. Almost too late this last time right? Almost missed it. Steve’s death would have been on you. Too slow. Too bad you couldn’t help Barb. Too bad you were so weak, so selfish. Barb was screaming your name when she went you know? Begging for her life. She loved you. Loved you. And you gave her up, left her alone. You could have saved her. Could have kept her alive. Her parents didn’t have to be childless, didn’t have to grieve. But maybe you wanted Barb to die? Didn’t you Nancy? Barb kept you from reaching your full potential. Barb was in your way, isn’t that right Nancy? And you don’t let anyone get in your way…otherwise they end up dead.”

Nancy felt the vines slithering over her, saw Vecna staring back at her on the scream. The screams of Nancy’s friend, Tina were too much. They sounded like Barb. Maybe they were Barb? Barb screamed and screamed and Nancy hadn’t heard, didn’t hear. She felt sick, felt vile, unclean. 

Can be read HERE