#spoiler warnings galore

[sleepynegress]

Castlevania: Nocturne Season 2 Trailer

[fandom-is-my-game]

Moments in The Star Beast that had my soul leaving my body:

2/4 The Sonic Shield

[todayontumblr]

Monday April 10.

Consider us wrecketh: The Owl House finale *spoilers*

WARNING: Spoilers for the finale of The Owl House follow, so please read at your own discretion.

Thank you, Owl House. We previously expressed the wish that this final episode of #the owl house, without a release date for so long, would never arrive. Sadly, however, it materialized on our collective screens just this weekend—with a series closer rather aptly-titled "Watching and Dreaming". There was a lot to cover in this finale, and the creators behind this beloved show faced a seemingly uphill battle to do justice to such a complex narrative, and wrap up its many, *many* threads. Against all the odds, it did just that, and with some considerable style and emotional heft, over these three, hour-long specials. Here we must doff our collective caps to showrunner Dana Terrace and the team behind The Owl House for delivering such a satisfying conclusion.

So it fills us with all kinds of complex, conflicting feelings that that really is it. Conversely, this, we suspect, is evidence that the wonderful team behind this precious show did such an exceptional job at wrapping it all up. It's been quite the ride, and it will be missed and cherished in equal measure. There is a fandom of fine folk here on Tumblr paying their own tribute with discourse, memes, and gifs galore.

[myownwholewildworld]

iv. two inches - acta, non verba

chapter 3 | series masterlist | ao3 | chapter 5 pairing: conqueror!marcus acacius x ofc!reader. summary: will the stars finally align so you can have who you want? a/n: hiii! sorry it's taken me a month to update 🥲 after watching gladiator ii, i knew i had to come back to these two asap. as always, all interactions welcome, i do appreciate you liking, sharing and/or commenting! take care 💖 warnings (spoilers): 18+, mdni. smut incoming. sexual tension galore. marcus jerks off to the thought of you. kissing. breast worship. mentions of past sexual trauma/marital abuse. the tip goes in. misogynistic views. infidelity. dialogue in italics means it’s spoken in gaelic (unless stated otherwise, i.e. latin). marcus is 49, ofc!reader (callie) is 26. w/c: ~8.4k. dividers by @\saradika-graphics taglist at the end (let me know if you want to be added/removed please!)

Niamh’s appearance had startled you, bringing you back to reality. For a second you had let yourself rejoice in the moment, in having Marcus—quite literally—on the palm of your hand. You had not intended on it going so far; on grabbing his manhood with resolution and pumping him with delight. His hardening dick had been so hard to ignore, you just gave in to temptation.

His initial reticence to not be touched was what had spurred you on. Marcus had attempted to reject your advances, although unsuccessfully. Him turning you down only encouraged you more, wanting to prove to him how badly he desired you, even if he tried to conceal his lust.

The sooner he realised he wanted you, the faster your plan would move along.

And by the Gods did he realise, his steely cock living proof of his appetite for you.

What you had not expected though was your own body’s reaction to Marcus’ undeniable desire. Your pussy had been gushing all along, each stroke on his girth unravelling something within you — especially when you hinted at the idea of slotting his cock between your lips to suckle on him. That simple thought sent a warm wave down your spine, your folds wetting almost instantly. In fact, you could still feel the dampness your thighs were harbouring for him.

And it was all part of your scheme, anyway. Eventually you planned on it happening — sooner rather than later, preferably. If you experienced a few orgasms thanks to him in the process… well, even better. The trash sex Iain had subjugated you to for a decade was the only thing you had known in the bedchamber — not once did you climax, yet many a times—if not always—you wailed in pain. Considering how your flesh had reacted to Marcus, perhaps the General would be useful in more than one way to you.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you glanced at him over your shoulder — a quick peek through your lashes, your teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.

You were riding together on his horse, his arms tight around your shoulders pinning you in place. His bulge was pressing against the soft curve of your ass — no wonder your pussy was still laced with slick.

Knowing Marcus was in hell right now, you wiggled your hips back, the plumpness of your buttocks nuzzling his swollen groin. The General swallowed a groan, his arms tighter around your shoulders, and you smirked to yourself, feeling his erection hard pressed against you. Marcus had found no relief since Naimh interrupted you both and was still at full mast. And understanding that caused your insides to melt.

Truth be told, you would have liked to finish what you started. Not for his sake, but for your own. Making him come in your mouth would have partially put out the hellfire that burnt inside you, wreaking havoc in your seam.

The animosity between Marcus and Maximus shimmered in the atmosphere.

The Commander had only brought his own horse and yours had deserted you, which meant that, if you were to come back, you had to choose between the two Romans. Maximus had gracefully offered you to ride with him, and the mischievous sideways look he shot in Marcus’ direction didn’t escape you.

But before you could accept or decline, Marcus had mumbled something under his breath before ordering you to ride with him. Maximus was delighted with the whole exchange, and you understood that the Commander was actually teasing the General.

A little possessiveness wouldn’t hurt. It meant you were stirring Marcus in the right direction — yours.

You ventured another sneaky look at Acacius, your curiosity concealed by the cover provided by the trees.

His lips pursed in frustration, but his eyes distilled exhaustion. Marcus had lost enough blood to put a man to sleep for a week, but here he was, standing and conscious, away from Dhuosnos’ realm.

You had made sure of that, not only by mending his wounds, but also by killing one of the attackers. That ambush had left a crawling suspicion in the back of your mind, bothering and nagging. There was something weird about it all but couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.

Maximus spoke, filling the silence and voicing your inkling.

“And you’re sure you didn’t recognise them, General?”

Marcus slowly shook his head again, his chest rubbing your back with the motion.

“No. They spoke that barb— uhm, the local language,” he muttered, briefly looking at you sideways, almost apologetic.

You knew how the original sentence was going to finish: that barbaric language. A reminder of who he was after all—your enemy. You shouldn’t lose sight of that, of the true purpose of your actions.

It felt wrong, how your lust awakened for none other than your enemy. Yes, you intended on bedding him, but your previous thought of getting Marcus to make you come now angered you. Your arousal felt like a betrayal to the memory of your family. You shouldn’t wet at the idea of fucking him — if anything, you should feel disgusted of your own reaction.

Straightening your back, you just rolled your eyes with disdain, letting him know of your annoyance.

“I’ll ask around, see what I can find out,” Maximus thought out loud, then glanced at you through the darkness. “Did you recognise any of them? Their accent?”

Slowly shaking your head, you grasped the saddle’s horn.

“No, I didn’t. I’m not sure they were from around here,” you explained, wondering if you were saying too much.

They hadn’t recognised you, which showed they were not your clansmen. But they were pretending to be.

You went quiet, your frown deepening.

“What’s bothering you, my lady?” Marcus’ breath caressed your ear, your skin bristling instantly.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly.

Too quickly.

“I’m sorry you had to defend yourself,” he whispered, his husky voice low so only you could hear him. “I should have paid more attention. I won’t let it happen again.”

Suddenly you realised he thought this was your first time killing someone. Little did he know, you probably had reaped as many souls as he had. You were no stranger to the battlefield — your father had taught all his children how to wield a sword, how to take a life. You learnt how to detach your soul from your body whenever someone’s life was cut short in order to preserve part of your humanity. It was the only way you could live with yourself, because it didn’t matter if they deserved it or not, it still gnawed at your conscience at night.

Marcus, on the contrary, seemed to be oblivious to how much pain his killing had caused. Had caused you.

Another reminder.

But then you realised what he had said. He wouldn’t let it happen again — a fissure in his impassiveness. Was he starting to care about you?

So you played on his protectiveness, on his words. Pouting lips, doe eyes and all, you nodded.

“I… I just wanted to protect you, Dominus. I was afraid he would hurt you,” you mumbled back, faking your fear for him.

The decade with Iain was paying off after all. To survive by your late husband’s side, you had to master the ability of make-believe, to pretend you were feeling ways you truly weren’t — afraid, amused, sad, happy, distraught, content. You had acquired the skills to feign a whole range of emotions, and this would be useful with the General.

He bought it.

“Don’t worry about me, Callie,” his voice was but a whisper, but that wasn’t what distracted you.

His broad—massive actually—right hand had landed on your right knee, squeezing it lightly, as if to soothe you; your suffering for having killed a man. His touch was light and brief, but long enough to leave goosebumps in his wake.

You were not sure which one of you were more taken aback — him because of his sudden show of worry, or you because of how that had made you feel.

“But I appreciate what you did back there,” he quickly added, clearing his throat, both of his hands gripping the leather reins.

“I would do it all over again, Dux Meus. For you.”

Perhaps you were buying it too.

Nay, can’t be.

The whole ride back to Inbhir Nis castle was literal torture. A tempting nymph on his lap, warm and inviting, was the last thing Marcus needed to worry about.

But instead of the last, you had become the first on a never-ending list of concerns. Curbing his desire for you had been a herculean task, one he did not accomplish. Because as soon as the door to his chambers closed behind him, he stripped himself of all his clothing.

The moment the jail of his armour was gone, freed from its heaviness and tight grip, Marcus sighed, just finding a miniscule relief.

The erection that you provoked him was as hard as a couple of hours ago, shaft throbbing against his happy trail. It had been at least two hours since you had worked him to this state of unsatisfied lewdness and now it was just damn uncomfortable to be at full mast.

A warm bath was awaiting him, and Marcus only took a second to dive in. The hot, milky water was welcoming, soothing his strained muscles. There were herbs floating around — rosemary, lavender and thyme, at least the ones his sense of smell recognised.

A scent that had hit him before, when he encountered you getting out of the garderobe a few weeks ago. Why did that aroma remind him of you? Why would you just not leave his mind? This thought of you lingering was dangerous, distracting. But so fucking alluring too — there was something about you, the mischievous aura you exuded, that reeled Marcus in.

It was intoxicating, really. No, you were intoxicating. And he just wanted to drown in it, in you.

Marcus grunted in frustration, one hand sinking under the water to find his heavy balls and massage them gently. His head tilted back, resting on the edge of the wooden bathtub, and his eyes squeezed shut when his imagination took him back to the moment you wielded his cock.

Now that the haze of his fainting had lifted, he should have shown himself some self-restraint to stop whatever this was. But he couldn’t, the memory of your tight grip too unravelling, too compelling.

So, in the privacy and safety of his bedchamber, he gave in to temptation. A last squeeze on his full testicles and then he was pumping his thudding dick to the thought of you doing exactly the same. His hand was your hand, and that was everything Marcus needed.

His thumb pressed on the slit, just as you had done. Then the bobbing of his hand picked up a faster rhythm, his free hand drifting down to hold his balls again, and Marcus jerked himself off while he envisaged you sealing your lips around his plump head, just as you had teased.

That was his undoing — you suckling on him, milking him dry with your mouth. Marcus could envision it perfectly: on your fours between his hairy, thick thighs, hand twisting on the base of his shaft while you sucked in his mushroom head, dick pulsing hard for you. And you glancing up at him with those green orbs — full, hypnotising eye contact, almost too intimate.

A few more strokes on his cock, imagination running wild, and he finally came. His breathing hitched and accelerated, becoming irregular, as his fist clutched harder around his girth. Spurts of white, tacky robes left his slit, his glans just peeking out of the water, and landed on his chest.

It took Marcus a couple of minutes to come down from his high. This was a new low for him, having to masturbate himself to the thought of someone because he was too horny to let it go. Too proud to ask you to finish what you had started. Too loyal to his cheating wife.

The last thought annoyed him, not wanting to think about Livia at this precise moment. He resented her, probably more than what he should. But her betrayal stung like fire licking on his skin, their holy matrimony reduced to a farce. For all he knew, he did not have any children of his own blood now. Marcus loved them equally though, but it still gnawed at him that he had been raising the children of another man unknowingly.

The life he had carefully built seemed to have crush down to its foundations. Marcus truly did not know what to expect upon his return. He had left abruptly, called by the Emperor and Agricola, with no time to discuss his family life with his wife. He didn’t think he could just go back to normal, not after what had emerged.

Being out here in the wild Caledonia, Marcus felt his life on hold, postponing the inevitable. But he couldn’t think about that now, not when he had so many tasks ahead of him.

Absentmindedly, Marcus cupped some water and washed the cum off his chest, watching it swirl around in the tub.

A knock, then the creak of the door as it opened.

His heart jumped and he quickly sat back up in the bathtub, water splashing as he did. He had forgotten to put on the latch.

He hoped to hell it was Atticus, at least.

“Dux Meus?”

Wrong, fucking wrong.

Had he thought of you so hard that he had willed your presence?

Your profile peeked through the crack in the doorframe.

“Can I come in, General?”

Your ask was a mere formality, because before he could say anything, you had already entered the room and closed the door behind you.

Marcus’ back straightened, his relaxed muscles tautening again in your presence. Could he have no moment of respite, when he would not be haunted by bewildering scents and suggestive lips?

For a brief second, Marcus watched you look around, taking in the details of the room. A big, four poster bed with translucent veils hanging from every side; the matching oak furniture; the vivid, colourful tapestries on the bare stone walls telling stories he never heard of; a wonky standing shelf with a small library, books he had flicked through at candlelight before bed; the rudimentary chimney where a fire burnt and crackled.

Because even in spring, the thick walls of the castle kept a cool atmosphere inside. The pyre warmed up the room, but Marcus thought the temperature shot up the moment you stepped closer to where he was.

“What are you doing here?” his question sounded almost accusatory, his fingers gripping the edges of the tub, knuckles whitening.

His wary demeanour didn’t put you off, light feet closing the distance with a smirk.

As you approached, Marcus couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of you. Your green skirt flowed around you, hugging your voluptuous hourglass figure in all the right places. Your red hair framed your delicate features, freckles dotted around your nose and cheeks on your moonlight skin. Cherry lips as plump as figs, reddened and curled up. Some flickering green eyes as fiery as the orange sparks in the flue stared at him with unknown intent. A marble neck that led the path to the esplanade of your collarbone, and then, right underneath…

His mouth watered, and his cock inevitably pulsed again. Your full breasts almost spilt over the low squared neckline of your dress, like sunny hills welcoming him home. Pebbled nipples greeting him. A deep cleavage so inviting, he could imagine pumping himself in between them, his glans just peeking through and kissing the center of your clavicle.

Another twitch in his groin made him steel himself and drawing a deep breath in to calm himself.

You crouched down, squatting right beside the bathtub, and placed one soft hand over his.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright, Dux Meus. That your wounds were not bleeding, and the stitches were holding up,” the concern tinting your voice felt real to him.

Marcus cleared his throat, tense.

“They’re all fine. My healer certainly knew what she was going,” he conceded, then remembered. “Except for the blunt tip of the needle. That I did not appreciate.”

You laughed and patted his hand a few times in jest.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure an acclaimed General like yourself can withstand a little bit of pain, Dominus,” you joked, long eyelashes batting at him. “But for that I am sorry, I had to work with what Naimh had at hand.”

“Thank you. For saving my life twice,” he whispered, almost solemnly. “I am indebted to you, Callie.”

You waved a hand to dismiss his gratitude, gifting him a crooked smile that quickly reached your eyes.

“You killed two men. I think we are even, Dux Meus,” you muttered back, a low, wicked husk that knocked him off his senses momentarily.

With the smile still painted on your round lips, your eyes slowly drifted down his chest. The milky water was murky enough so you wouldn’t see through it, wouldn’t see how hard he was getting again.

And then you bit and licked your lips, the grin almost fading as a darker, sensual expression transformed your face — a mesmerising gesture that forced Marcus to follow your sight. Then he saw what had caught your attention: his cum floating around, gathering around the herbs that scented the now lukewarm water.

A moment of silence stretched between you, his heart racing up as your gaze lingered on the water, as if you were hoping for his erection to peep its head out above it.

Your fingers reached down into the water; palm cupped to trap some of his wasted seed. It filtered through your fingers until it all fell back into the bath water. Swirling your fingers around, you grabbed a tiny bunch of rosemary, dragging it across the water until the small leaves caressed the exposed skin of his chest.

The summit of your tongue licking your bottom lip as your eyes locked intimately.

So fucking suggestive, Marcus’ breath hitched, close to losing his mind.

“Marcus,” you cooed, your wet fingers dropping the rosemary and lifting up.

Your hand slid to his, wrapping around his wrist, a warm touch that spiked his heart rate.

A thunder crawled under his skin the moment you guided his hand over to your bosom. You squeezed his hand, smoothing it over your lush left breast. He couldn’t help but cradle it, feeling the taut nipple grazing the thin fabric, rubbing his palm.

“Please,” you almost sobbed, moving his hand in circles over your boob.

To hell with everything. He shouldn’t let himself be distracted by the pleasures of the flesh during such an important campaign, but Marcus wanted you so badly — his new erection living proof of the desire that burnt for you.

Just one time, to satiate the caprice, and then he could go back to his duties.

Your mouth was agape, beckoning like a siren. And as he was about to relinquish to the temptation you offered, leaning forward, another knock on the door swept the moment away.

“Dominus, Commander Maximus necessitates your presence immediately,” Atticus forewarned him before his steps faded in the distance of the hallway.

Perhaps you despised Atticus more than you hated Marcus, and that was a feat to beat.

The universe was intent on your plan not taking form at all, otherwise you could not explain all these fucking interruptions. Another person might have taken the hint, but not you. Stubborn as a mule, you would not stop at anything — Marcus would fall in your tangled web, whatever the cost.

You only needed to remember to keep a cool head. Among the hatred, pleasure shimmered, and it certainly bothered you. How your body had a mind of its own and responded to his obvious desire, damp fold hidden away between your thighs.

It’s just an act, you reminded yourself.

But as much as you tried to convince yourself, your drenched pussy agreed to disagree.

Huffing and puffing, you went down the spiral staircase and sauntered towards the kitchens. You were in dire need of some light-hearted jest, and the old cook would help take your mind off things with his banter.

Cormag wasn’t there, just Isla and Brighid shuffling around the hearth, keeping it alive. The smoky smell filled the room, almost suffocating, and you coughed.

“That chimney is close to getting clogged,” you managed to say, clearing your throat. “Should put the fire out and get one of the helping lads to go in there and clean it out.”

Isla turned around, her head bowing down as a quick curtsy. They all really needed to stop doing that, even when no Romans were around.

“We can’t do that yet, mo bana-phrionnsa (my princess)”, she replied, her hands busy kneading the flour on the counter. “Apparently there is a feast to be had tomorrow, one of the Romans’ birthdays. We’ve been asked to start the preparations for it, so will have to pull an all-nighter…”

Brighid voiced her discontent, crouched down by the fire, feeding it some logs.

“I don’t understand why we are wasting so much food on them. My family’s starving, we barely have any bread left, and these cu…” she quickly looked at you, embarrassed, but you nodded, encouraging, “these cunts eat like gluttons. Last night you were not here, my lady, but some of them even started throwing the food around at one another. Disgraceful.”

“Aye,” Isla agreed. “I had to pick up some unspoilt veggies off the floor. My nan has not had anything to eat for the last two days, she was worried that my siblings and I wouldn’t have enough to eat.”

Their struggles broke your heart. Not only because they were your clan, but because of the injustice of it all. No person should go to bed hungry, and these undesirable guests were forcing people to go without a meal.

You knew both of the maids, their families. Brighid’s son was three and had started to talk; her husband had returned with you from Raedykes and now was an amputee, trying to find a job to provide for his family. Isla’s parents had perished during the battle of Mons Graupius too, serving your father till their final days.

It was frustrating, but it was even more infuriating. Your hands were tied, and you could not wait to break free of your tethers. You looked forward to the moment this all would be over, that you could face a defeated Marcus Acacius and impart upon him the same misfortune he and his people left in their wake.

You stayed with them a little longer, helping out where they needed you to. A couple of hours later, tired and in need of your niece and nephew’s hug, you were flying by the hallways of the keep, heading back to your aunt Bonnie’s crannog, when male voices stopped you in your tracks.

The door to the great hall was ajar, Maximus’ raspy tone filtering through.

“Cassius’ henchman and some of his men went back to the spot where you were attacked. There were patches of blood on the grass, but the bodies were gone,” the Commander husked. “I find it weird, honestly.”

“So do I,” Marcus agreed. “I didn’t want to say it before, but one of them spoke in Latin to me. His accent was… definitely Roman.”

“That makes no sense,” Maximus replied, their voices clearer now. “What did he say to you?”

“Just ‘Die, bastard’. That was all, but I could tell he was fluent.”

“Leave it to me, I’ll see what I can find out.”

Heavy steps approached, and you knew they were close.

Picking up your skirt, you ran down the corridor, mixing with the shadows until darkness wrapped around you.

“What were you fucking thinking, Callie? You could’ve gotten killed!”

Torcall was not impressed with your outing, to say the least.

You rolled your eyes at him, arms folded. You shouldn’t have explained why you had been missing for so many hours, but you were not one to lie to your allies. Especially if they were family.

“I didn’t have a choice, Torcall. He saw me leaving and decided to accompany me. What should I have done? Tell him his gallantry was no longer needed because I decided not to go? That would have been so suspicious,” you reasoned, your own anger flaring. “And I was in no real danger, anyway. They were Caledonians.”

You downplayed that on purpose. They were Caledonians, aye, but they were really intent on killing you. You were still ruminating on that detail.

“And you killed one of them. For him. To protect the fucking General of Rome,” Torcall barked, teeth clenching. “Why didn’t you let them finish him? All of our problems would be over.”

His accusation, although deserved, enraged you. Even more so because you had thought exactly the same thing, and still decided to defend him.

“You’re so short-sighted, seriously. If I did, his entire army would have come hunt me down, ye eejit (idiot)!” You stood up, the legs of the chair screeching against the cobblestone. “Half of the castle saw us leaving together, I would’ve been the first one they suspected. And you know they tend to kill first and ask questions later.”

Torcall scoffed, fury distorting his features. But then a change of demeanour: he got up too and closed the distance between you two. For a moment he doubted, and then his arms wrapped around you, hugging you close to his chest.

The sudden proximity made you feel weird. Uncomfortable.

“I was just worried for you, Callie,” Torcall mumbled, his breath fanning over your ear. He leaned back, his hands lingering on your shoulders. “You’re like family to me. To my children.”

The intensity his eyes distilled caught you off guard. They were soft and pleading now, all his anger forgotten. And then they drifted down, landing on your mouth.

The whole atmosphere shifted, your heart beating wildly. Surely this all felt wrong to the both of you.

“You are family, Torcall,” you remarked. “You’re my sister’s husband, that’s actual family, not ‘like’ family.”

Your words carried meaning, and more than meaning — a subtle warning. A reminder too, of who he was and who you were to him. He shouldn’t forget himself. Torcall was your brother-in-law, and although pain had brought you closer these past weeks, it meant nothing more than that.

At least to you.

Torcall cleared his throat, his arms falling slack to his sides.

“Aye, I guess we are,” he sighed, pinched the bridge of his perfectly straight nose, and sat back down on the chair. “So, were they our brethren? You said they were Caledonians.”

You were relieved at the change of subject, the tension between you fading.

Nodding, you sat too.

“Aye, although their accent was not really from around here. But Acacius seemed to think they were Romans,” you added, your fingers drumming on the wooden table between you. “Think he’s wrong though, you can’t fake an accent like ours so easily. Do you reckon it’s got something to do with the attempt on the General’s life a few days ago?”

Torcall seemed to take a moment, contemplating his answer before he spoke. His eyes flickered for a second, his pupils a well full of doubts, something you thought odd.

“I don’t think so. They were just lads, highly doubt they could pull something like that off,” he commented, almost cautiously.

You frowned, eyes slightly squinting.

“They could be part of a larger group. You said so yourself, people don’t listen to reason when they feel threatened. Perhaps some of them have decided to take justice into their own hands. I never got a chance to speak to my cousins yesterday—”

“I did,” Torcall cut you off.

The wrinkles between your brows deepened.

“You did? You went to Bun Craobh?”

“Aye, had some errands to run,” he didn’t add any further explanation to that. “Ran into them and told them about your plan when I realised you hadn’t spoken to them yet.”

“That wasn’t for you to do, Torcall,” you replied, mildly infuriated at him for taking the liberty to do so. “What the hell did you tell them?”

“Nothing in too much detail, mainly because they’d try to talk you out of it the same way I did,” there was a note of reproach in his voice, one you decidedly ignored. “Just that you were planning on spying on the General to get details of their next steps.”

How you got to Marcus was none of his fucking business. Now you questioned whether you should have shared that information with Torcall or not, if he was going to fucking judge you at every step of the way. What you did and how you got what you wanted was entirely up to you. You hadn’t broken free from Iain to fall under the controlling hands of another man.

“Tiugainn (come on), Callie. I just told them enough so the word would spread that Murdoch’s only living daughter is planning on fighting back. Give the people a reason to hope,” he pleaded, sensing your anger.

“Aye, but next time, ask me. I don’t appreciate you bypassing me in these matters, not when I’ve got enough enemies at my doorstep.”

Marcus did not like all this unwanted attention. He was adamant this had been one of Maximus’ jokes, just to get on his nerves.

The General did not like celebrating his birthday. In fact, hated it. His wife would throw lavish parties back at home, wasting gold on unnecessary decorations and gifts — Livia would use any excuse to show off how full their vault was. Having made himself from nothing, Marcus understood how hard he had to work for each and every denarius to his name.

His most trusted Commander knew this and ignored it completely. He had mobilised the people of the castle to prepare a feast, food filling tables and wine spilling out of goblets in celebration. A fire had been lit in the big chimney presiding the great hall, white flower arrangements hung from the stone walls. There was even music being played in the background, the soft sounds of the lyre accompanied by a female voice who sang in Latin and praised all his conquests.

And what angered him most: there was a good handful of meretrices (prostitutes) lingering around. Most of them were local freedwomen, but others were slaves that Agricola’s men had brought with them. Marcus had not allowed his own army to bring any woman into this new land, needing them focused on the task ahead. Agricola was, on the other hand, very lenient in that respect — encouraging almost.

“How are you this beautiful afternoon, Dominus?” A sensual hum whispered in his ear tightened his muscles uncomfortably.

Looking over his shoulder, Marcus saw the blonde woman who had been eyeing him for a while. She was wearing a white toga, obviously one of the Roman slaves brought from overseas.

Unrequited, she sat on his lap, her round butt cheeks kneading his soft bulge, while one of her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Would you like a taste?” she asked with a bright smile, bringing a cup to his lips.

Marcus shook his head no, one hand stopping the chalice from getting closer.

“No, thank you. And I rather be left alone,” he told the prostitute, rejecting her advances flatly.

She just laughed, putting the goblet back down on the table. Then she leaned forward, her lips brushing the artery on his neck.

“Oh, we don’t really need to play this game, Master,” she whispered in his ear.

Unbothered by the suggestive talk and her pressing onto his lap, Marcus swept the great hall, a burning sensation in his chest commending him to.

Your eyes locked through the observing crowd. The green orbs that stared him down were filled with playfulness. Suddenly, that sensual wickedness transformed into brief anger, then disappointment.

It took Marcus a second to understand why you seemed upset. He had forgotten about the prostitute sitting on his lap, talking his ear off.

You stiffed, chin lifted up with disdain, and turned around with a wooden jug on your hands.

Fuck. Wait, no. It’s not what it seems, he wanted to say.

Marcus tried to get up, almost throwing the woman to the ground in his haste to get to you.

“I won’t require your services,” he politely declined when she looked at him in surprise.

“Oh…” her disappointment was visible, but it wasn’t the one he cared to soothe.

“Don’t worry, love, come here. The General seems in a hurry to leave. Some important matters, I wager,” Maximus extended his arm towards the blonde woman, inviting her onto his lap.

The sneering look Marcus threw Maximus’ way did not go unnoticed, his Commander laughing it off.

Ignoring him, he quickly walked off the dais, following your trail among the crowd. Your fiery red hair was like a beacon, one he followed to the main doors. A second later he was in the hallway and looked around, just in time to see you disappearing into the garderobe storing the wine.

Why he was following you, he was not sure. Why he needed to put your mind at ease, he was not sure either. All he knew was that the crushed expression you had given him stirred something within him.

In a few strides, he was right behind you, his hand holding open the wooden door to the garderobe.

“Callie,” he called you, your name rolling easily off his tongue, like a trained whisper.

Annoyed didn’t cut it, disappointed didn’t either. You were pissed. There you were, breaking your back to get Marcus to yield to you, for a prostitute to easily find comfort on his lap.

The man behind the façade was unknown to you, but you hadn’t taken him for someone who enjoyed his free time in the whorehouse. Judging by how his hand cupped the small of her back and how the blonde was basically licking his neck, you were mistaken.

You were not jealous though. Just pissed, that was it.

Mumbling to yourself, you had walked out of the great hall to refill the empty jug with his favourite wine, not wanting to see such a spectacle unfolding in front of you. The burning sensation in the pit of your stomach would eventually fade, you were sure.

Although the door behind you was open, the inside of the garderobe was pitch-black. Patting blindly in the dark, you found the open barrel.

As you were about to turn the iron tap on, the sound of your name made you jump on the spot. Your pulse accelerated and the jug fell from your hands, clattering on the stone floor. You didn’t need to look to know who it was — considering how your skin bristled and warmth pooled low in your tummy, you already knew.

“Fuck, Marcus!” you exclaimed when you turned around to look at him.

Your heart rate spiked again, for a very different reason this time.

He had followed you; he had left the prostitute behind to come look for you. That had to mean something. Perhaps you had a tighter grip on him than what you originally thought.

And that pleased you immensely, to your dismay. The butterflies in your belly should be fucking dead, not fluttering their wings in excitement. Your heart kept on pounding against your ribcage, even harder when Marcus entered the tiny room and swung the door behind him, leaving it ajar.

A sliver of light flooded in through the crack, just enough so you could make out his features and the hard lines of his body.

Suddenly, the garderobe felt extremely small with him inside too.

“It’s not what it seems. I wasn’t—”

“You owe me no explanation, Acacius. What you do or you don’t do, it’s not my business,” you cut him off with the right amount of bitter venom distilling from your tongue.

The General pursed his lips in frustration. A dose of his own medicine wouldn’t hurt him.

“It’s not like I’m waiting around for you to make up your mind,” you added, lying through your teeth.

But you were such a good liar, Marcus was none the wiser. He believed every word. His nostrils flared and his hands tightened into fists on his sides.

“What do you mean?” his raspy voice came out in a threat.

You cocked a brow, proud chin up.

“You know what I mean. Or do you need me to draw it down for you, so you understand?”

The provocation was, most probably, the last straw for him. Marcus almost snarled at you as he closed the distance. He grabbed both of your wrists with his thick fingers, yanked at them and pushed you into his chest.

The sudden display of anger took you by surprise. A pleasant surprise, especially when you noticed his swollen bulge pressing on your belly. Saliva pooled in your cheeks and slick in your pussy.

“I know that’s not true. You wouldn’t be so desperate—”

“I am desperate?” you laughed, the shaking of your tummy stroking the lump in his white toga. “You can fool yourself, Marcus, but don’t try to fool me.”

Marcus stiffened, pulling your wrists down and around his waist as his head bowed down to you, his lips ghosting over yours.

He was about to kiss you.

“You’ll be missed on the dais. I’m sure that blonde is looking for you. Is she the reason you are so hard right now?” you grumbled, your best attempt to get on the last of his nerves.

“She can go to hell. I want you,” he groaned, his mouth brushing yours.  Your pussy gushing some more. “You are the reason why I can’t get it down.”

Marcus didn’t wait for your sneering reply — his mouth crushed yours, teeth colliding. The tip of his tongue pulled your teeth apart and he laid waste to your mouth. The stroke of his tongue on yours tasted sweet, warm. It swirled around in your cavity, looking for a crack in your determination to remain impassible.

But you were only human. You had wanted this since the moment you came up with your plan to destroy the General — you would never admit it out loud though.

So, you gave in, your tongue responding to his with little whimpers as your hands laced together on the small of his back to push him into you, feeling his erection through the fabric. One you knew how big and curved and thick it was. One you wanted to know the feel of in the most intimate way possible.

Marcus moaned in your mouth, and you breathed him in, bewildered by his taste and the herby smell his skin gave off. Your throat let go of a similar quiet wail, as you stumbled back, your back meeting the cold wall behind.

The General kissed you fiercely, the same way he waged war upon his enemies — relentless. His hips grinded against yours, rubbing his bulge on you to get off while his lips abandoned your mouth to lick the marble column of your neck. He trailed the path of your vein, leaving wet kisses on his way down.

Then he brushed the point where your left breast swelled, and the tip of his tongue skidded through your skin until it found the valley of your boobs. He licked between them, both of his hands cupping them up.

“I need to see them,” he whispered, your skin bristling instantly as his thumbs travelled up and rubbed the visible nipples. “Been dreaming about them since I met you. Can I?”

You did not expect him asking for permission, not when you assumed that, as the conqueror he was, he only took with no consideration.

Nodding with half-lidded eyes, surrendered to your own desire, you let him pull the neck of your dress down until both of your breasts were spilling over the hem.

“Good Gods, you are beautiful”, he muttered, marvelled at the sight of your boobs. His thumb brushed your taut left nipple, and you shivered. “They are perfect, columba (dove). So round and so full and so—” Crouched down over you, Marcus briefly licked it. “So fucking tasty.”

With no warning, his warm lips sealed around the tight button, and you couldn’t help yourself but moan, your hands burying in the nape of his neck and lightly pulling from his silvery curls. Marcus sucked it in, his tongue twirling around the nub. Then the caress of his wet muscle was replaced by his teeth lightly biting on your nipple and tugging.

Perhaps the sweet scent of the wine filling up the garderobe messed with your senses, with how you perceived the intensity of it all, of him.

You sobbed loudly, your cunt drenching and beating in response. Pressing your knees together, you wondered if this was how it was meant to be — how sex should feel every time. Warm, desperate, slick, needy. Because if this was it, if this was how it was supposed to be, you could never have enough.

A rush of wet warmth dripped onto your woollen loincloth, your lower belly inundated with a coiling feeling unknown to you — like a tense bow ready to fly an arrow.

Marcus’ right thumb found your unattended nipple, stroking it slowly as his devilish mouth devoured your other boob like a man starved. His tongue flicked and rippled against the tiny lump between his lips while his hips rutted into you, your dress and his toga impeding the contact you most craved.

“By Mars I swear you’re so fucking perfect,” he managed to say between licks before moving on to your other tit.

The General repeated the same process again and your legs trembled with elation. Tilting your face up, you massaged his scalp, soft moans slipping from your plump lips. His smothering tongue was so persuasive, lapping at you with precision, your mind went numb with pleasure. The coil in your belly tightened harshly, so much so you had to bite down your bottom lip to stop yourself from screaming his name.

Your damp pussy pulsated, another wave of slick wetting the pearly skin between your inner thighs.

“Marcus, oh, God,” you whispered, short of breath — your heart pounding in your ear drums, deafening.

“Let go for me. Come for me, sweetheart,” Marcus whispered before attacking your nipples again, one with his mouth and the other with his thumb.

His clothed cock rubbing low, right between your thighs. The roughness of your underwear abrasing your begging, writhing clit.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The overwhelming sensation between your legs was too much — your leaking cunt wanting to find release. And it did: the coil inside you finally snapped, warmth and dew soaking you. All your limbs went slack as you felt the last wave of your climax washing over you.

Then absolute peace, your brain numb with your first experience of an orgasm. Now you understood what other women whispered about when the men were away.

Speechless, you laid back against the wall as Marcus towered over you, a satisfied grin curling his lips.

“You’ve done so well for me,” his praise fell like sugary water from his lips, the palms of his hands cradling your face as he pressed his erection against you.

His tongue flicked between your lips, coaxing them apart, and you obliged. A soft, almost puritanical, kiss pressed on your mouth before his lingered to your cheek, then your ear.

“Callie, please, I need to fuck you,” the inflection on the word need made you whimper.

Unable to still find the words, feeling all mushy and heavenly, you nodded.

The sigh of relief that bubbled up Marcus’ chest would have made you laugh in other circumstances. But there was nothing laughable about this, about two people chasing the highest of highs.

“Praise be to the Gods,” he prayed at your acceptance, his broad hands landing on your hips to turn you around.

The cold stone wall greeted your nipples, the General pinning you against the wall with your back leaned on his hard chest. Tilting your hips back, your ass sweetly nuzzled his swollen groin, then his hands rode up the skirt of your dress, exposing your loincloths.

You gasped when Marcus pushed your underwear down to your knees slowly, his fingertips dragging along your velvety skin.

“I just know you’re gonna take me so well, mel (honey),” he purred in your ear, cupping your naked buttocks. “So, so well.”

The side of his hand slid across the fold between your ass cheeks until it found the dampness you harboured for him.

Marcus groaned in your ear, and you reciprocated, his touch so welcomed your clit twitched in response.

“Marcus, please,” you implored, eyes shut and mouth agape.

“I know, mel, I know.”

His clothes rustled behind you and knew he was naked from the waist down. Tempted, you looked over your shoulder just to confirm your suspicion, and your knees almost gave way. Pearls of precum topped the plump head of his throbbing cock, his hand holding it from the base.

As beautiful and tempting as last night, his dick twitched in need. Marcus stroked himself in a feeble attempt to calm himself. Leaned towards you, his lips nipping the crook of your neck, his beard tickling your sensitive skin, and you whined in desperation.

Guiding his thudding cock between your thighs, you felt it drag across your seeping furrow, wetting himself with your slick. The warm touch of his shaft along your puffy lips made you moan uncontrollably, back arched and your butt pressing onto his lower tummy.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. I’m going to feed it to you slowly,” he husked, voice raspy with want.

You wept some more, his cock sliding through your seam easily and freely. His mushroom head hitched on your clit, and then slipped back down to your entrance, catching too. Marcus pushed in ever so slightly, just half an inch, and your head tilted back, resting on his shoulder.

Another half an inch and then you felt it: the trained reaction of your inner walls clutching, not wanting to let him in. Years of abuse had taught your body to put up a fight, to squeeze your hole shut so your late husband wouldn’t hurt you.

You fought with yourself, asking your pussy to let Marcus in, as he intruded another inch.

He felt your hesitation, your inner struggle.

“Relax, columba, you’re too tight,” he groaned behind you, one hand sliding across your hip to your belly and diving between your thighs. Two of his thick fingers caressed your clit, the flick of them over your bundle of nerves softening your body. “That’s it, sweetheart, relax. I got you.”

Your inner walls loosened up ever so slightly as Marcus rocked his hips back and forth behind you, fucking you with just his tip. Easing his way in, helping you calm down as only his throbbing, leaking head pumped in and out of you. He was only feeding you a couple of inches, your pussy hugging him extremely tight as he did.

“Too damn tight,” he whispered, and you knew he was grasping for control, the pulsing of his cock rhythmic with the gentle petting of his fingers on your clit.

“Marcus, I can’t—”

Perhaps the trauma your husband had inflicted upon you reached further down than you thought. What a fucking moment to realise that.

“Shhh, it’s fine, it’s okay, mel. I’m more than happy with just the tip for now,” he reassured you, soothing your nerves. “Anything you give me willingly, I’ll take.”

True to his word, Marcus kept on fucking you with just the first two inches of his thrumming dick while his fingers worked your clit with expertise. Not too long after, your felt that burning, coiling sensation converging in your swollen pussy again, your cunt smothering Marcus’ tip even more.

“Oh, fuck, melculum (my little honey)… Come for me again, yes, come all over me,” he moaned in your ear.

At his command, you let go. A rush of liquid fire lapped at your pussy, then leaked over Marcus’ erection as you shrieked. Gathering your ridden-up skirt around your waist, Marcus wrapped one of his strong arms around you to keep you standing on your feet, rutting into to shallowly so he wouldn’t feed you more than two inches.

His cock pulsed hard in your entrance, a gruffy groan rumbling in his chest, almost tearing his throat apart. Marcus pulled back quickly, leaving you empty, and the tip of his cock rested on your left buttock as he jerked off.

A minute later, his warm white seed sticked to the skin of your round globe, dripping to the floor when it got to the cliff of your ass cheek.

Marcus kissed the back of your neck, both of you breathless and sweaty.

The first time you both found relief, together.

“You’ve done so well, mel,” he lauded you again, pulling your loincloth up.

You felt exhilarated, high and fucked out. Numb and spent. Satisfied.

You hoped he was too. He hadn’t been able to bury himself deep down in you, but you hoped you had been enough.

All the bravado you had showed him so far faded, a carefully built façade, and you felt slightly insecure with what had just happened.

“Marcus, I—”

Suddenly, the door to the garderobe swung open.

Marcus reacted quickly, pressing you against the wall some more and his hand placed against the wall, his arm blocking your face from the sight of the unwanted guest. His entire body along with the darkness shielded you from being recognised.

“Oh, Ò DHÌOL (oh my god)! Tha mi duilich (I’m sorry), General, tha mi cho duilich! (I’m so sorry),” you identified Brighid’s panicky voice and even though you couldn’t see her, you knew she blushed.

Then the door slammed shut.

Both of you started laughing.

@orcasoul @immyowndefender @sjc7542 @fairiebabey

@thepalaceofmelanie @harriedandharassed @whoaitspascal87

@verybigvag @jessthebaker @ivoryandflame @missadangel

@pepperstories @mewantpeepaw @inept-the-magnificent

[loveephia]

Can you do Bokuto, Tendou Suna, Iwaizumi? So that they see their girlfriend again after she was away for a long time? I love You Work!!💕💕💕💕💕

how some of the HQ boys would react to seeing their girlfriend again after a long time from a business trip. (bokuto, tendō, suna, iwaizumi.)

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, them being very sulky generally, you guys are married here, suna's is inspired by a scene in the k-drama "true beauty", kita cameo in iwaizumi's, and yes, atsumu says an among us reference.

⚠ warning/s: manga spoilers.

note: THIS REQ WAS SO CUTE WHATATAT@?(# i haven't written for tendō, BUT i love a good challenge. >:3 iwaizumi's ended up being a bit long on accident. 😭 THANK YOU ANON AND ENJOY READING!!!

BOKUTO KŌTARŌ

when you told him you'd be gone for three WHOLE months, his hair just drooped down, the gleam in his eyes are no longer there, and his childish grin is gone.

baby literally gets so sulky about it :(((

"do you really have to?"

HE HAS THE PUPPY DOG EYES AND EVERYTHING STOPPTKEPDK 😭😭😭😭

"believe me, kō. as much as i don't want to stay away for that long, i have to."

every day he wakes up (with his arms around a pillow instead of you), he tries to be optimistic

"another day closer to seeing my wife!"

can't have him messing up at practice yk

but when he finally sees you at the airport, gosh, he's just all smiley about it

he picks you up and spins you around like in the movies

"i missed you so, so, so much!" he's pecking your face all over, ignoring the looks from other people, because hIS WIFE IS BACK 😭😭😭😭

"kō.. people are staring." you giggled

"let them!"

SATORI TENDŌ

"no way—! you gotta be joking!"

HE IS IN UTTER DISBELIEF.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE GOING TO BE GONE FOR THREE MONTHS???

"who's gonna be my taste tester then!?" his voice cracks

the tendō chocolatier business CANNOT FUNCTION WITHOUT IT'S OFFICIAL TASTE TESTER.

before you leave, he gives you a free box of handmade chocolates galore to snack on the plane

and, ofc, a little kiss on the cheek

when you open the box on the plane, there's a little note

"don't eat'em all on one go! love yaaa~ :3" HOW CUTEJKSJDKEJDK

when you're finally back from the trip, you stumble into tendō's arms

"oof—!" he says before patting your head, "there, there, y/n."

SUNA RINTARŌ

"what." he deadpans

"i know.. but i have to—"

"no way. i don't accept this. you're seriously leaving me?" he sounds so offended that people may think you two are fighting.

he pretends to be all mad about it, but you know he's just joking around

so when you're gone, suna has to physically hOLD HIMSELF BACK FROM CALLING YOU EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY

"she wouldn't want a clingy boyfr— husband." he corrects himself

yeah, he calls you anyway.

when you pick up, you say, "hello, my tarō! how are you?" in that sICKENINGLY KIND TONE SUNA HAS OH, SO MISSED 😭😭

you've only been gone for three days

"please come home. i miss you. please." did he just say please twice?

when you're finally home, it takes every inch of sanity left in suna so as not to drag you away for cuddles

the expression on his face tells you everything, and you giggle. "i'll just shower first, then we can cuddle." and his face LIGHTS UP

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

"even oikawa's said some terrible jokes, but this one is by far the worst."

"nope! it's not a joke, baby."

when you're gone, iwaizumi is so upset because you'd usually give him a little kiss goodbye whenever he goes off to work :((

so now he's extra grumpy while coaching the national jpn team.

"oi, hinata! you should've been able to get that one!"

"if you can't hit it right, another hundred laps for you, ushiwaka!"

"suna, stop slacking off, or i'll have that old captain of yours come back and scold you!"

suna knows iwaizumi's threat was only towards him, but that statement got even ATSUMU AND ARAN SHIVERING.

SO THE TEAM IS ALL LIKE "???" BECAUSE WHO PUSHED IWAIZUMI'S BUTTONS SO EARLY IN THE MORNING 😭

"which one of you is it. come on, fess up!" hoshiumi hisses

"i believe bokuto lost iwaizumi's pen the other day." ushijima states

"wow, are we just throwing each other under the bus now?" suna snickers

"it was an accident! i didn't know he'd get this mad about it!" bokuto tried to defend himself, "come on, tell them, atsumu!"

"i was in cafeteria with grey." atsumu lifts both hands up, metaphorically waving the white flag

"you all are insufferable." sakusa groans

you can imagine how confused the team got when after three months, iwaizumi's mood was no longer grouchy since you had finally come home

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[funniestjokesinfilmtournament]

WELCOME TO THE FUNNIEST JOKES IN FILM TOURNAMENT!

Decided to make a tournament poll blog because everyone seems to be doing it uh I hope I'm doing this right

Basically what it says on the tin, let us, the great minds of Tumblr, decide once and for all the objectively greatest joke ever put into the art form of cinema. I am sure our decision will be universally agreed upon with no controversy whatsoever.

I am your host, S! (He/Him, don't mind They/Them either though) I will be your referee throughout this tournament as we encounter twists and turns, upsets, and close finishes galore!

(I hope at least, that's good for engagement)

THE RULES

Submit a film joke in the ask box

Include the films name, year of release, and a thorough explanation of the joke itself and why it is hysterical. A quip, some physical comedy, a running gag, anything goes as long as it's funny! If said joke involves significant spoilers it should be prefaced with a warning. Also while films in any language can be submitted do please write the submission itself in English. Also also please attach images or gifs if possible relating to the joke, it will save me a lot of time later. While I will be somewhat lenient, I reserve the right to delete any submission that does not meet the above requirements.

Tell your friends if they'd be interested so we can get a good number of votes!

Vote for each one you think is the funniest!

BANNED FILMS

Anything released after December 31st, 2019: to avoid recency bias

All the Potterverse films: because JK Rowling is a scumbag and trans rights

Films that have dated views on certain subjects like Casablanca are allowed but genuinely malicious films like Birth of A Nation are not; I will mostly exercise my own discretion here but may put some cases up to a poll

Please don't be the reason I add any more here

I'll start when I feel I have enough submissions

One more thing: be nice. Hyperbole can be funny but actually hateful comments will not be tolerated.

Have Fun!

[diodellet]

try wishing for it: magical girl au ~author's note~

warning for: Puella Magi Madoka Magica spoilers and more yandere headcanoning

Read the fanfic first before you spoil yourself on my rambling 😇

I did not expect to be able to transition from draft to posting that quickly for a fic of this length (or maybe it just felt faster because the stars aligned for my motivation and brainworms to work together? who knows)

Will I ever continue this AU? Maybe if I get clubbed in the head by more Scarabia brainworms, I might write oneshots/short scenes, but I don’t see myself writing for any of the other twst charas.

Anyways onto the ramblings galore:

Inspirations:

The verse that the fic’s title is ripped from goes: “Saying, ‘it’s like magic!’ / immersed in this sensation, even if I try wishing for it, / I know it’s nothing but playing with dolls //” (tl credits to Releska).

Tbh, analyzing poetry/song lyrics isn’t my biggest strength, but I know that Mahou Shoujo, as a genre, tends to touch on themes of adolescence like innocence vs. jadedness in the face of the real world and its many issues, just stepping into and growing out of adolescence as one of those uncomfortable transitions in life.

Stepping into young adulthood is scary, and most people my age don’t even know what the hell they’re doing. So for Reader, I gave them that highschooler-trying-to-be-capable-and-mature persona, with a tinge of anxieties that a young person would have.

*I’ll elaborate more on the Puella Magi inspirations in a later section, but yes, that was also a major inspiration for this fic

Vagueness:

Compared to my usual long-winded writing style, this fic ended up a bit more short and ambiugous in its prose. Partially because I didn’t want to procrastinate on writing this by rewatching my favorite Mahou Shoujo franchises.

(but also mainly because partial aphantasia lets gooo, detailed visuals are not my strong suit, I’m leaving Reader’s outfit and weapon blank for people to insert anything they’d like)

I mainly wanted to emphasize the character moments between Reader and Kyubey!Scarabia, which ended up becoming more conflicting and interesting than I initially drafted.

(It helps that Jamil is a shady guy, he set up the foreshadowing on his own. Kalim on the other hand, my god, maybe it's just me but I had a harder time characterizing. Why is he so loud and friendly, it makes his manipulation so much more covert grr)

Gold (and Red, I guess):

I lied, there was one visual aspect I wanted to highlight throughout the story, which were Scarabia’s trademark colors of gold and red. Anything gold mentioned in the fic is traced back to them. So every moment of Kalim and Jamil using magic, Reader’s magic, the bangle that Jamil gifts them, the wraith in the beginning having a (formerly) gold collar. (I would've added a description of something gold on each wraith, but I didn't want to be too heavy-handed with the repetition.)

(yes i had thoughts of jamil just giving them a golden collar…but ooo…held off on that instead, it could be a standalone what-if scenario…a corruption arc premise…ooo…someone remind me about this, i might forget)

I also mention jamil++the color red in this fic because I had to put Snake Whisper in, I can’t not 🙈

(that bit of kalim’s healing magic was me trying to make a reference to Oasis Maker, it feels a bit scuffed to me, but i don't think he’d ever get the urge to drown the world. truly sunshine boy's such a covert yandere it almost made me tear my hair out)

Kyubey!Scarabia, Some Difficulties and Omissions:

In Puella Magi, the little satanspawn named Kyubey is actually short for “Incubator,” who hails from an alien civilization tasked with preventing the heat death of the universe. Turns out the emotions of teenage girls is a very potent energy source. So he turns girls into magical girls to fight Witches and when those magical girls succumb to despair, they become the very thing that they fight against, producing vast amounts of energy for them to use.

(Though I changed it from ‘Witches’ to ‘Wraiths’ for this fanfic. I also did away with the Witches’ Labyrinth to lessen the amount of exposition. I jus think Witches work better in a visual medium.)

Another standout characteristic of Kyubey is his eerie sense of apathy to the characters’ suffering, which was Difficult to incorporate into Kalim since that guy’s got buckets of empathy. Until I realized that i could spin this into a kind of “warped” love.

Kalim loved each and every magical girl that he’s worked with, and of course he gets sad that they eventually become a wraith. But as an Incubator, his grieving is more akin to a rich person feeling sad over the death of a pet. He’s very quick to turn his attention to the next shiny thing (that’s you/Reader! Ain’t that great!🥴)

Also @jessamine-rose gave me this hc of Kalim amassing little trinkets from every magical fighter, like a ribbon accessory or a piece of their wand, collecting these little charms. Just, the idea of him saying that he’ll cherish Reader’s own treasure, and the way that could go from reassuring to chilling. (now i’m spreading that hc to yall instead of pingponging it in my brain😇)

On the idea of Jamil and love, I think he just loves holding power over magical girls #MegalomaniacThingz (ignore that growing fondness in the fever scene, he was just playing the part of helpful familiar or sumn /shrug)

There's definitely room for some kind of intense fascination to reader, knowing that they surprised him with their resilience. Yeah sorta like Tokyo Mew Mew's Ichigo and Quiche...

(i was crying so hard at having to axe forehead kissies for the second time, but it was a necessary omission😔)

Misc. Extras:

As a palate cleanser, just imagine plush ball!jamil carrying a plastic bag twice his size… (i was struggling with the dialogue during that fever scene, this was how i kept myself from spiraling too far)

In line with the genie of the lamp story, Kyubey!Scarabia gets the three wishes for their magical girls, with the third wish eventually corrupting the magical girl into a wraith.

I guess the other dorms would have something unique for the magical girls that they create? (not having wi-fi for the past few days gave me some half-baked ideas)

Like Heartslabyul imposing a rigid set of rules on their magical girls, which are of course rigged against the inherently flawed nature of humans and their emotions.

Savanaclaw and Pomefiore are similar, you fight until you can’t. Or in Pome’s case, you fight until you become an unrecognizable monster.

I imagine that Octavinelle and Ignihyde are the most similar to the original Kyubey of Puella Magi. You make a wish, fight the wraiths, reap the consequences of a wish, and eventually succumb to the vicious system they have laid out. Only Octavinelle’s version is Sayaka Miki-core, while Ignihyde’s plays out like a video game-ified version of Hercules’ trials. (Also, Ignihyde deffo keeps a compendium of each magical girl and wraith).

For Diasomnia, it could kinda follow Sleeping Beauty's plot, where there's a curse that the magical girl has to work against, while being aided with blessings from the fairies/Malleus' retinue (tho in this case, i guess Malleus ends up being revealed as the one creating the wraiths?)

tl;dr: This fic was so fun to write, I can almost forgive the usual agonies that plague me. I'm a writer who heavily prefers soft worldbuilding. Scarabia makes me so ill.

tagging: @viperwhispered @twstgo

[bloatedandalone04]

Dating Luke Reiter would include;

Warnings: descriptions of smut, smut, fluff, spoilers for vanishing on 7th street, swearing, kinks galore, mentions of alcohol, badly written headcanons

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

➪This man is kinky af- you all see the handcuffs - so it should come as no surprise that your sex life with Luke is thriving at all times.

➪He usually starts his day by going down on you until he’s nearly late for his segment, or with really slow morning sex - he saves his energy for when he comes home and really gets into it.

➪And by ‘into it’, I mean into it.

➪He’ll have you gripping the sheets as he gets you off with his tongue and fingers before giving you the real thing.

➪And he doesn’t just stop at that.

➪Since he goes on air in the mornings and sometimes afternoons, he has all night to spend with you.

➪Aka he has all night to have you squirming under him, or sometimes on top of him if he feels like letting you take control.

➪Let’s be real; Luke is a dom with an attitude.

➪While he doesn’t degrade you or anything like that, he does mock and tease the fuck out of you.

➪And he has definitely used those cuffs on you more than once.

➪He’d lock your wrists to the headboard and have his way with you, getting you off in all the ways that had you a crying mess for him.

➪Other kinks...this man is very into marking.

➪Whether it’s you leaving red scratches down his back and chest, or it’s him covering your neck and thighs with love bites.

➪He is also lowkey into public sex.

➪By that I mean he has fucked you against the side of countless bar walls after having a bit too much to drink, leading him to take you by the hand and guide you into the alleyway beside the bar so you can find relief in one another.

➪He overstimulates you quite often, with just one orgasm not being enough to satisfy his libido.

➪Mans sex drive is high all the time.

➪He just wants you constantly.

➪In other words, you two have very kinky, very hot sex on the regular.

➪Now; pet names.

➪He calls you baby, pretty girl and even sexy more than he calls you by your actual name.

➪“C’mere, sexy,” has been the lead in line to many nights spent in bed together, and you shamelessly admit that.

➪He’s a secret softie for you and will often come home with a bouquet of your favorite flowers or even a new necklace.

➪While he’s not one of those guys that feel the need to get you something that has his initials on it, he does like to spoil you with gifts you can wear that shows everyone that you’re taken by him.

➪You were together for just under two years before he decides it’s about time he puts a ring on it, and then you are married literal months later.

➪You’re one of those couples that have a big, blown-out wedding picture on the wall above your bed - one that was of him with his arms wrapped around you and a smile that looked more like a smirk on his lips while you looked like something straight out of heaven.

➪He is simply obsessed with you and could not imagine being with anyone else.

➪Since his job requires him to be on TV everyday, you watch every single segment of his; either live, on YouTube later or in real life on the odd days he takes you to work with him.

➪Either way you’re his biggest fan.

➪Whenever he’s not at work, he wants to be with you all the time.

➪He’ll go literally anywhere with you; to the store, the bank, the fucking mall he hates going to, you name it.

➪Since you live close to both your places of work, neither of you have a car and walk everywhere.

➪And you know damn well he has his hand locked with yours or his arm draped over your shoulder whenever you two are walking together.

➪Luke is a sarcastic piece of work, and this has gotten him in trouble quite a few times.

➪Though not often, some of those times are with you, which leads to heated arguments.

➪Your relationship isn’t toxic or problematic by any means, but when you two argue, you a r g u e.

➪He has a temper and has lost it on you more times than he likes to admit, but thankfully you’re understanding of it.

➪Still; he’ll sometimes lash out and leave to go walk it off or get drunk, just to come back home to you hours later to apologize.

➪His coworkers hate you since you had taken the hottest man they had ever seen off the market - something that you take great pride in.

➪Seriously, on the odd day when you go with him to work, the women there will glare at you until you go home.

➪As if they had a chance with him in the first place.

➪Luke was yours from the second he saw you, and that was why he swiftly married you.

➪You don’t get jealous often, since Luke has you under his arm whenever he’s not on air and shows you off to all the channel seven news men.

➪Though it is a rare occurrence, Luke will sometimes take you into the break room or a nearby supply closet just so he can fuck you and make the women even more envious of you.

➪The jealous stares they give you after the two of you walk out with messy hair and crooked clothing was so worth it.

➪There’s that public sex kink again.

➪Luke, on the other hand, didn’t get jealous at all.

➪He knew you were 100% his, so he didn’t feel the need to waste his time getting jealous over guys who would never be able to give you all of the things he did.

➪He will, however, guide you into deep kisses whenever he sees that another guy can’t seem to take his eyes off you.

➪That usually does the trick as the guys quickly leave before Luke could pull away from the kiss.

➪Now, when things start to go to hell one morning; Luke springs into action immediately.

➪You’re, without a doubt, his top priority and he does everything he possibly can to keep you out of the shadows.

➪After seeing someone literally vanish in front of him, he was terrified of the thought of you receiving the same fate, so he makes sure you have a working flashlight and batteries on you at all times as he tries to figure out how the fuck the two of you are getting out of the situation.

➪That’s without mentioning that he literally won’t leave your side, and he resorts to keeping his hand locked firmly in yours with a light source on him at all times.

[the-steambird]

[ 011223 EDITION ]

GENSHINBLR — NOVEMBER, 2023 EDITORIAL

EXTRA! EXTRA! Over here, dear reader! As we enter the twelfth month of the year, read up on what’s happened this past month of November on Genshin Tumblr!

From your Editors: Crow and Ely.

COLLECTIVES — November Events !

TRENDING! || From Journalist @meidnightrain

1989 Event — 21 songs to 21 fics with the Genshin characters; A celebration to the release of Taylor Swift’s 1989 album, with fluff, angst, and hurt / comfort galore! Our journalist Meisha takes us through the re-recorded album with various Genshin characters X GN! Reader ranging from Aether, to Furina, and many more in between!

NEWS FLASH! || From Editor @yuellii

Fontaine : Dark Blood — A supernatural-themed event to continue off the spirit of Halloween in November; Dark Blood follows three separate one shots of vampire Neuvillette, werewolf Wriothesley, and puppet Lyney X GN! Reader. Our editor Ely executes horror through her writing, so readers, please heed her warnings carefully in each fic!

COLUMN — Individual Spotlight !

LET TWO EYES BE UNDECEIVED, Lyney / By Editor @rainswept

Summary from the editor: Growing up with you by his side, falsities were always something Lyney could see through. He preferred not to use them, not for a long time — but once you were gone and he and Lynette were left without someone to do the group’s dirty work, he forced himself to inherit the way of living you left behind.

“So excited for this one! Editor Crow’s been showing me their progress—honestly such a must-read for Lyney fans when it comes out, teehee.” — Editor Ely.

YOU’RE SO RED, ARE YOU OKAY?, Furina / By Journalist @definitelynotaneulasimp

A comedic review by Journalist Henry, in which the Archon of Hydro attempts at a date, but all goes wrong when she develops a terrible case of hiccups. Rumor has it: This fic is a part of Henry’s 1.5k Followers Event!

Want more Genshin women content? Definitely check out Henry’s own blog for characters like Ei, Navia, and more!

GOODNIGHT, Various Genshin Men / By Journalist @strawberrylabs

Did you know: Lyney, Freminet, Kazuha, Venti, Cyno and Childe have voice lines about you, dear reader?! If you’re having trouble falling asleep, hear what these characters have to say all about you!

A SIMPLE MISSION, Neuvillette / By Journalist @alaboadoa

Rumor has it: The Duke and the Iudex were caught whispering privately about you?! Read as Journalist Soph gossips all the juicy details about their conversation—it seems Monsieur Neuvillette might have a crush on you!

Just recently released: Journalist Soph also just recently released a new entry for Ayato, “INK TO PAPER.” Both of these works are featured in her 1k milestone event!

ONE CHANCE (PT.2), Various Genshin Men / By Journalist @ayaboba

“You give them one chance. How do they use it?” Journalist Anya returns with Kazuha, Lyney, Wanderer, and Zhongli—all who have just one last chance with you. Be sure to also check our her part one of this entry with Alhaitham, Diluc, Neuvillette, and Wriothesley, linked in her entry!

WHEN THEY LOSE YOU, Various Genshin Men / By Journalist @yrbladie

Ayato, Diluc, Kaeya, Neuvillette, Zhongli — ever in the mood for angst and no comfort? Then Journalist Naeris delivered us painful excepts on five different Genshin men and how they act after ( spoiler! ) losing you.

With Journalist Naeris also being on the rise and joining the writing train, be sure to check out all the other works she has published this month, as well!

FEATURE — The Editors’ Favorites !

YOUR SHADOW UNDER THE ILLUSORY MOON., Lyney / By Journalist @dulcesiabits

“this piece genuinely moved me. journalist liya’s writing is beautiful, and out of hundreds — maybe even thousands — of works that i have read, this has remained my favorite. it had me hanging on every word and i could genuinely feel the emotion put into it — her word choices and the way she conveys the scenes are profound in a way i cannot hope to describe. the ties and parallels part one has with PART TWO are so smart, too. hands down the most immersive and touching writing i’ve ever had the pleasure to read.” — Editor Crow.

JEALOUS-!, Ayato / By Journalist @jinxlixir

“LOVED this one! Takes place in a modern school AU with Ayato as the student council prez, and reader as his vice prez! The concept is every hopeful cliché, and Journalist Jinx did an amazing job characterizing Ayato so well—this one definitely stayed in my head for a while!”

“Not to mention: This little snippet is a continued concept of Jinx’s OTHER AYATO PIECE, one that’s much longer and written excellently!! I was practically squealing the whole time I read it… Ignore my tags if you decide to scroll through the notes.” — Editor Ely.

THE-STEAMBIRD is a Genshinblr Newspaper that posts news on the latest fanfiction and fanart! Editorials are published on the 1st day of every month, compiling your favorite works, featuring sections for journalists (writers) and photographers (artists).

Every month, from the 2nd-24th, we are in the nomination process. Writers and artists can nominate works they would like to see featured on The-Steambird for the month using our form!

[amelee23]

Cleaning supplies... Under the moonlight | Hwang Hyunjin

Pairing: Hyunjin x reader (no pronouns used but they are wearing a swim suit)

Characters: best friend!Hyunjin, reader, David (reader’s boyfriend), Jihyo and Luna (reader’s friends) and Sharon (identity is a spoiler). None of the original characters resemble real people.

Genre: Romance, best friends to lovers, ANGST, hurt/comfort, being saved from a messy break-up, slow burn, star-crossed lovers

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: CHEATING (reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend), toxic relationship, messy break-up, crying, reader becomes very insecure, Hyunjin is there to save the day, and he’s pining hard, reader is wearing a swim suit, I have no idea how heated pools work so don’t quote me on anything, Hyunjin is a poet so; I present to you confessing feelings through love poems, Hyunjin is shirtless, swearwords, reader gets called ‘angel’, kissing, cuddles, a bit of revenge, humor, the tense change is intentional (kinda), hopelessly romantic stuff, poetic prose, metaphors galore and lots of word plays (if you catch them all I’ll give you a gold star.)

A/n: I know the first part of the story focused on the reader’s relationship with her toxic boyfriend, but Hyunjin will become the main focus after the break-up so please don’t let the beginning intimidate you. Also I worked on this an entire week lord send help

Synopsis: Your vacation was supposed to go like this: scented candles, a warm pool and the light of the moon, in hopes of fixing your relationship with your boyfriend. But the universe had other plans. After you found out he has been cheating, you bathed under the moonlight, surrounded by broken roses, being confessed in poems by your best friend Hyunjin, and you’ve never felt so whole.

You've put everything into this vacation.

And that didn't only mean money, albeit it was quite costly. You, your boyfriend and some close friends decided to rent out a vacation house with a gigantic heated pool, to at least create a fun, leisure memory before summertime slipped between your fingers and the sun would grow sad and dim once again. With the price shared by so many people, it was still quite a lot - but you didn't care, because there was more emotion put behind this vacation than mere money.

Perhaps it wasn't the healthiest of solutions, just how when a couple decided to get married to fix their relationship (which to you always seemed like such a horrid idea), you were trying something similar. You wanted this vacation with your boyfriend, David. Things between you haven't been good, that would be the simplest way to put it. His behavior changed, he became more distant, less passionate about your relationship, and one thing led to another and you were fighting because of your growing suspicions. Truth be told, you were terrified. Afraid he didn't love you anymore, afraid he found someone else to spend his nights with.

He had been everything to you, the fiber woven from your cells, the beginning and end of every breath you took - because when you loved, you didn't hold back. And it came to you so naturally, too; to love him. You've never had something so simple, so stable until you met him. But they do say every good thing must come to an end, and there's this little cricket in the back of your mind, at low volume but at an unbearable high pitch, following you every moment, whether awake or asleep. It's telling you your gut is right. Vivi (so you've nicknamed him, many months ago, when his friends were making fun of how basic the name David is) has told you a million times you had nothing to worry about. That he's just busy, or stressed, or that your love is just settling into something more calm, rather than an intense teenage-like love, like it used to be in the beginning. He's made you feel insane so many times over. Like you're just imagining things, like your insecurities are getting out of hand and you're just projecting on him, lashing out at him. You thought you deserved the pain that came with the accusations of being untrusting, immature, unconfident, inconsiderate or selfish. But you didn't, of course you didn't. You didn't deserve any of that.

You were afraid Vivi wouldn't agree to the vacation, or even if he did, he wouldn't pull through on the money part and you'd have to pay his share. You were ready to annihilate your savings account just for this one chance at a happy memory. This one chance at making things right. But surprisingly, he agreed in a heartbeat and even suggested a specific vacation house he's heard of from his friends. Not even two days later, he had all the details down, made the math of the expenses and put together the whole group chat. You thought this was it, he was actually trying again. Showing you he still does have the passion to make you happy.

You couldn't have picked out a better date for the vacation, either. The first night, it would be a full moon, with a clear sky. You were imagining it already, how magical it was going to be, soaking in a heated pool under the moonlight with David, reciting your love vows once more, like you used to do in the start of your relationship. You couldn't help how hopelessly romantic you were, you needed to let it out, confess disgustingly sappy and cheesy words of admiration. But more than that, you needed him to tell you he loves you. You needed it.

When you arrived, you were met with a stranger who had been waiting for you and your friends at the vacation house. She introduced herself as Sharon, the daughter of the owner. Since her father was busy, she was left in charge of giving you the orientation.

"I'm not going to bother you much." She assured you, her voice was low in volume and yet high in pitch. "I'm just going to give you a quick tour of the rooms and then explain to you how the pool works, and what cleaning supplies you can use just in case you need them." She was a beautiful girl, so beautiful in fact, that the cricket in the back of your mind was telling you to be envious. You couldn't quite understand it, but you brushed it off.

There were three rooms in the house, each of them with their own bathroom. It was so much more luxurious than you imagined, and suddenly it seemed odd that you paid so little for something so grand. You remembered Vivi saying something about a discount, but the memory was vague. Nevertheless, the room count was perfect. One room would belong to you and Vivi, one to Jihyo and Luna, and one to Hyunjin.

You met Jihyo through Vivi, they were coworkers at some point. But the two of you instantly clicked and became girl friends, and the more, the merrier - Luna was her adopted sister, picked up from an orphanage in Spain. She was one of the most incredible and strongest women you've ever met, and you simply adored her. It was so magical to see how the two sisters came in a package, how they looked after each other with unconditional love. You thought something like that only existed in TV shows.

And lastly, there was Hyunjin. A man, a poet, a romantic with beauty deemed worthy of a Greek tragedy. But most importantly, your best friend; your lifeline. He understood you, in ways no one ever could. Your souls were made from the same material, the same thirst of emotions of celestial scales, he saw beauty in the small things just like you did. And he has been there, day in, day out, through your ugliest moments. When you were single at prom, he turned down at least 15 girls to take you instead. When you were too broke to afford Taylor Swift tickets, he pretended to 'roam the city' with you so that you'd listen to the concert from outside the stadium. When a boy broke your heart, he'd turn your pain into the most beautiful poems, and gift them to you in journals filled with drawings of your favorite flowers. He was more than anyone could ever ask for, and you were forever grateful to have such a human in your life. The perfect best friend.

With the tour out of the way, you volunteered to go with Sharon and receive the tutorial about the pool and supplies you must use for it. She explained to you the heating mechanism (although all you needed to do was turn it on, she reassured you.) and that water might need to be replenished if you use the pool a long time since the heat makes it evaporate faster. You jutted down all you could in your notes app, and then followed her to the supply closet. She explained to you about chlorine (although half of what she said went over your head) and showed you the cleaning supplies you can use in the instance that the water becomes extremely dirty (which she knew wouldn't be the case, but she was required to let you know). By the end of it, you were starting to think your senses maybe are going insane. Sharon seemed like a very nice and gentle person, and her attitude was very bright and easygoing. You told her you were gonna take some pictures of the bottles and note down in your phone what they are, so she gave you a warm smile and left you alone in the supply closet.

After writing your own one-thousand-words heated pool manual (pictures included), you were ready to have the vacation of a lifetime. You picked out a swimsuit in Vivi's favorite color, prepared his favorite scented candles to place around the pool, and alerted your friends beforehand that you wanted the pool just for you and Vivi on the first night. It was all coming together perfectly, so you grabbed the door handle with confidence.

"I'm sure my friends wouldn't mind if I leave a little bit later. We could grab some food and then hit up that bar you like? Don't I owe you a mojito?" That was Vivi's voice. Even with the door cracked just a little, you could hear it. It was so clear. It was his voice.

"I would love to." The cricket. Low in volume, high in pitch. It was speaking - it was agreeing to go out with your boyfriend.

"And maybe, afterwards I could take you home? Would you like that?" Your eyes are closed shut. But you couldn't close your ears, unfortunately. The conversation continued, and you could imagine him whispering in her ear, looking into her eyes and tipping her chin just how he used to do with you. Tears were about to escape, so you closed them even tighter. Your lungs were burning, because you were denying them air. Holding your breath, you bit your lip, hands shaking as they gripped the wall.

"Speaking of taking something home, I have something for you-"

You finally took a breath. And you stormed towards the voices.

Your vision was blurry, but after blinking away your tears, an image formed before your eyes: David, holding out a gigantic rose bouquet towards Sharon.

The ugliest flowers you've ever seen in your life, held by the ugliest man you've ever met. He was never beautiful to begin with, right? He couldn't have. A man with such an ugly soul, how could you have been attracted to him? How could you have loved him?

He calls out your name.

"This isn't what it looks like, okay? My dad is friends with Sharon's dad, okay? We became friends by association, okay?"

Okay?  Is he asking you that, or is he asking himself if the lie is plausible?

"And these are for you, yeah?" He's walking towards you, putting the bouquet in your limp hand. "There's nothing going on between me and Sharon." The cricket, it suddenly stopped. Instead, you heard Sharon gasp and look at David in horror. She must have not known. She was also just a victim.

"Just stop it already! Enough with the lies!" You found yourself yelling, a never seen before anger bubbling underneath your skin. Your fingertips urged you towards violence, and so you slammed the roses into the floor. The petals scattered and the stems broke. Your yell must have startled the others, because soon you heard a lot of footsteps behind you - and then Sharon turned around and walked away, a hurt look in her eyes, head hanging low in shame. She was avoiding the eyes of all your friends, who were now staring at you and David.

"Okay, fine. You've gotten boring and I was no longer happy. I was going to leave you anyway." He was so nonchalant, there was no waver in his voice. That made you feel as if every time he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and his voice wavered, he wasn't honest. Only now, has he finally been honest.

And the most honest, he was when he took off in a run to chase after Sharon. To make sure she's okay. To comfort her and tell her she's the one he loves.

You fell to the floor.

And to your side, rushed no other than Hyunjin. Like always, to make sure you're okay. To comfort you and tell you you are loved.

The sobs broke out of your body and shook you violently. You were a mess of tears in just a few seconds, and you weren't going to hold back. You wailed, grabbed the roses and slammed them into the floor repeatedly.

But it was useless. They couldn't feel pain. They couldn't feel your pain. They couldn't realize what they have done to you.

Hyunjin wrapped his arms around your frame and gently lifted you to your feet.

"C'mon, let's get you in bed, yeah?" Your knees were buckling and you had no strength to stand. You were shaking your head no, like a toddler who didn't want to go back home. "We can continue crying in bed, mmm? Don't worry, I'll let you cry. I'll cry with you, angel." Your arms circled his torso, clutching his shirt between your fingers. You called out his name, and he reassured you he knows, he knows it hurts.

He carefully took your hand and dragged you away. He exchanged glances and nodded at your friends, but you didn't notice. You whispered to him, groggy in voice, that you can't go to your own room, because David's things are there. So Hyunjin took you to his room, which was the best choice for many reasons, not only so you can avoid seeing his things, but also so that he could avoid the urge of throwing David's suitcase out the window.

Hyunjin was true to his words. He sat you down in bed, and let you cry. And before he knew it, he was crying with you. He was holding you so tight, and it was so warm, and yet the shards of ice in your heart weren't melting. At first, you were angry - how could a human do something like this? Something so despicable, so vile? How could you not have realized you were in love with a monster? But then, his voice began to ring in your head. You're boring. He was going to leave you anyways. Perhaps it's you who's the problem. Perhaps you really are boring, and old-fashioned, and demanding, and idealistic, and untrusting, and immature, and too much to handle, and perhaps you should just give up because you're just un-

"Hyune, am I unlovable?" Your voice was barely there, but he heard you. He always heard you.

"Nonsense." He looked so hurt to hear you say that. "That's such nonsense." He repeated with a laugh, wiping his tears on his sleeve. "That's the most stupid thing you've ever said in your life. And you've said many stupid things, I would know." You slapped his arm in protest, but he was happy to see you chuckle.

"I mean, even if I'm not completely unlovable, Sharon is still prettier than me..." The flick of Hyunjin's fingers resonated on your forehead. You held your head in pain.

"What the hell, dude!"

"It's revenge! Every single time you say something like that, it hurts me. So I must hurt you back." You sighed. You knew he was joking, but at the same time, there was some truth behind it.

"I'm sorry, Hyune. I should have listened to you. You didn't like him since the very beginning, and you were the only one telling me my gut was right. It must have been so painful to just watch."

"It's painful to watch you now, as well." He confessed, and you felt a pang of guilt wash over you. But he pulled you back in his arms, to pet you hair lovingly. "That bastard, how dare he hurt my angel. I swear I'm gonna turn into Rapunzel's mom and lock you up in a tower so no one can ever hurt you again."

"Hmm, but doesn't pain help us grow or whatever?"

You were pretty sure Hyunjin just rolled his eyes all the way back to China.

"First of all, we all know pain just gives you more trauma. But I mean, your trauma collection is getting quite... exquisite nowadays." You smacked him again, playfully. But this time, you actually laughed. "No but seriously... there is a lesson in there somewhere. And not just to listen to me more often... to learn that you deserve more, angel." He was so close to you while he was speaking, his eyes aimed directly into yours. Your gaze wondered over him, over Hyunjin, your best friend. His chocolate eyes, sweeter than any cake you could ever eat, his vibrant lips, plumper than any wild cherry growing in the trees, his skin - like a canvas painted over the years with the brush of years and aging. His hair was long and dark, rebellious yet elegant, and the light was cascading in the room in lines, through the blinds that were semi-shut over the windows. Suddenly, there was a new sound in your mind. There was no more cricket, there was the sound of the ocean. Waves, crashing upon the shore. You were barely at the seams, the water was gently lapping at your feet; because you knew, you cannot underestimate the ocean. If you go any further, one wave is enough to push you off balance and take you into the water, like an irresistible magnet pulling you towards demise. One step, one wave, is enough. One more inch between your lips and his.

He pushed your shoulder lightly and you fell face first into the pillows.

"And if you say more mean things about yourself, I swear I'm throwing you in the pool." You reached out for the napkins on the nightstand. It was finally time to stop crying and... think about the future?

"The pool... tonight was supposed to be all romantic and perfect, with candles and the full moon on clear skies..."

"I like full moons and clear skies!" Hyunjin announced, and for some reason it made you burst into laugher. "What! It's true! The idiot would have probably not enjoyed it anyways. He has no eye for beauty. He thinks having one green wall in his grey apartment is enough for him to live 'in vibrant color'. Okay Picasso, but like why the fuck must that wall be in the kitchen?!" You look happy when you laugh. He loves seeing you happy. "You dodged a bullet, trust me. First it's the green kitchen wall, next he ignores the perfect date that his perfect girl set up for him-" His perfect girl. You heart was racing. "-and next he-"

"Tries to double tap her with the daughter of a vacation house owner. He couldn't even find the daughter of a rich CEO."

"- I was gonna say next he's the only single grandpa in a retirement home, because he's too sad of an excuse of a man, but that too." Hyunjin always did this for you, as well. He made sure to roast all of your exes until all you could think of them is burnt chicken. Until the memory of them becomes something funny, that could never hurt you again. "Plus, I'm not letting your efforts go to waste - I'm not letting you miss this chance. Let's watch the moon, together."

You nodded. What else could you do?

You decided it would be best to try to take a nap until night hit. So much crying has left you dizzy and with a headache crawling at fast speeds through your forehead and sinuses.

"Do you have any painkillers? Should I try to find a pharmacy around here?" Hyunjin offered, but you reassured him you have some in your suitcase. "Okay, wait here, I'll go get it for you- but uh, which one is yours?"

"The one that has color on it, duh." He disappeared with a giggle, around the corner.

"I will never underestimate you ever again, ma'am." He joked, placing your colorful suitcase next to the bed. He made sure none of your items were left over in the room you used to shared with David, and insisted you stay put while he brings you a glass of water.

Pills in your system, blinds closed, blanket over your shoulders, Hyunjin curled on the other side of the bed, as small as he could make himself be, so that he doesn't make you feel suffocated. But he was holding two of your fingers in his hand, from across the bed. The skin of two fingers was enough pathway for you to feel a million bodies worth of love, though.

When you woke up, he wasn't there. Nor David who was haunting you in your dreams, nor Hyunjin who was whispering poems to you to chase the nightmares away. You thought you'd be alright after crying it out, but it wasn't that easy. You woke up feeling miserable, with a heavy weight on your chest, and yet feeling so empty and hollow.

You checked your phone, and he hasn't called. You didn't know if you should feel sad or relieved about it. At least he won't chase after you again, right? It won't be another hurtful on and off. It's over. He doesn't love you anymore.

"Oh hey, you're awake- Nah ah, no more crying! You've had your fill of tears, now it's time for a fill of pizza! Get your ass to the living room, missy!" You didn't have the time to cry when Hyunjin was chasing you out of the room with a pillow.

It was a little bit awkward at first, because Jihyo and Luna didn't know if they should bring it up or just try to distract you. Eventually you bit the bullet and began to tell them about your relationship yourself. All the behavior changes, the suspicions, the hurtful words (that you now realize were manipulation) and all the lies.

"Not even his guy friends knew." Jihyo told you. She apparently told the whole group chat she was in with David's friends about what he has been doing. "He didn't just lose his girlfriend, I think he lost most of his friends by doing this."

"Thank you, Ji. For having my back." Perhaps your relationships were monster trucks, but your friends were really golden. They really looked after you.

"So!" Hyunjin announced. "Change of plans. She's having a romantic moonlit date with me, instead. So the pool is still off limits." After Luna threw what looked like a piece of olive at Hyunjin's shirt, and he screamed in your ear, eventually the sisters said they were planning on working on their DnD character sheets anyway. They were your favorite nerds.

According to your phone, the moon would begin to rise at around nine in the evening. It was just enough time for the food in your bellies to settle, while you caught up with the new videos of your favorite comedy channel. Laughter filled the room, and Jihyo and Luna made sure to cuddle the heck out of you, to distract you from that emptiness that was threatening to form into a pit in your stomach.

"So, what scented candles do you have? Something sexy and seductive?" Hyunjin asked you, wriggling his eyebrows. It made the other girls giggle.

"Apple." You answered, and the whole room deadpanned.

"In what world is apple sexy?!"

"It's his favorite!" You tried to defend yourself, but Hyunjin just scoffed.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you really needed a new boyfriend." This roast didn't make you grin. It didn't make you laugh. Instead, you looked down at the floor, a sigh shaking your body. As the seconds passed, you began to feel more and more stupid for ending up in this situation. For being so dumb as to let yourself be led on by some pretty words, and pretty eyes, that you could ever be truly loved- "Sorry." Hyunjin apologized in a panic. It just slipped, he had so much resentment bottled up for that man. "It's a good thing I brought some of mine with me. They're not exactly sexy, but they should be more fitting."

"Oh, what scent is it?"

"Ocean." Ocean, the waves that are lapping at your feet. They're calling you over.

Hyunjin was calling you over, to see if you like the smell of the candles. You had gone through too many emotions today: the anger, the sadness, the insecurities, and now this anxiety. Or was it thrill? If you put your ear on Hyunjin's chest, would you be able to hear the waves?

"I'm going to go set these up." He announced, and you nodded.

"I'll get changed." With a skip to his step, Hyunjin walked out and closed the door to give you privacy. You're not even in the water yet, and you already feel like you're drowning.

You fished out your swim suit from your luggage and laid it out on the bed before you. You actually bought this - spent so much money on it - got it in his favorite color - for a man who was cheating on you. You were really regretting not having brought an alternative with you. You couldn't just walk out in underwear and a shirt, right? Better not. You grit your teeth and put it on, but made a mental note to 'accidentally' start a dumpster fire, and 'accidentally' drop the swim suit in it after tonight.

When you were done changing, you found Hyunjin out by the pool. Somehow, he managed to turn it on by himself since you could already see steam coming off of it. He arranged two candles around one corner of the pool (since he only had two) and was probably waiting for you to arrive.

"Oh, angel. That color does not suit you." Hyunjin had always been quite picky when it came to fashion. He had his 'disgusted fashion designer' face on.

"I know, it's-"

"Let me guess, his favorite color? I've seem vomit more vibrant than that." You snorted at the comment. The color was, in fact, quite horrible. "If I wouldn't know how much money you probably spent on that, I'd tell you to set it on fire." You laughed. Great minds think alike.

"I was thinking the same thing." After exchanging grins, Hyunjin seemed to fall into thought. He had that look in his eyes that told you there was a complicated process going on in his mind.

"I'll buy you a new one." Surprised, you cocked an eyebrow at him as you approached the side of the pool he was at. You scooted next to the scented candle he lit, and sat down on the edge. "Careful you don't burn you butt." He joked, and you rolled your eyes at him. The candle wasn't even close to touching you. The water was very warm and calming, you noticed, when you dipped your feet in. It made you want to move even closer to the edge so that your tired ankles would be soothed.

"You don't need to buy me a new one. What would I use it for? I don't think I'll be at any pool again any time soon." A rosy petal tickled your toes and you realized the bouquet had somehow ended up in the water. There were petals and tiny white flowers scattered all around the corner of the pool. It would have been a beautiful sight, if it wasn't so tragic.

"Well, maybe I have been secretly planning a weekend trip to Jeju island for you and I." That surely caught you off guard. You barely had any money left after this vacation, you wouldn't be able to afford a trip to Jeju. He wasn't planning on paying for it all by himself, right?

"I mean, that sounds lovely, Hyune." You replied, even if you had some financial disagreements to talk about later. "But it's september! I don't think I'll be walking around in a swimsuit at the beach in this weather. It's getting chilly." The air was quite cold, you've noticed it ever since the morning. The sun didn't have the same strength as a few days ago - but thankfully the heat coming off of the pool was making it bearable to be out just in a swim suit.

"First of all, summer is a feeling, not a season. And second, I'll just get you one for next summer." Next summer - you almost forgot. To Hyunjin, highschool with you was barely yesterday, and next summer should be in two days. A year was nothing to him when he promised you forever.

"Okay." You replied quietly, swooshing the water around with your feet. You were scared to look him in the eyes, because suddenly you felt so vulnerable. You could trust his idea of forever, right?

"Okay!" He replied with a much brighter note. "With that settled, I'll go get changed for our pool adventure." He walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts, and the subtle smell of the ocean. It was still calling you, but now you could hear it clearer. You could smell it clearer. One more step, one more inch of your skin under the water, and perhaps you could feel it clearer, too.

The wait would have been agonizing if you hadn't made a friend in the moon as soon as you found it in the sky. She - the moon has always been a she to you - was looking absolutely astonishing . For a second, a very silly second, you thought the moon had done a better job at dressing up for a romantic date than you did. You searched around for the evening star as well, the brightest, most beautiful star in the sky. You hoped if the moon was going on a date tonight, it would be with the evening star. For he was a strong man to always keep his light so bright, to always manage to guide the sailors lost in the night-

Hyunjin came back with a few tiny packages in his hand. He was shirtless; and from waist down he wore swim trunks, an ombre from blue, to light blue, to white. With the way the sky was reflected in the pool, you would think he was trying to blend in with the water.

"Choco?" He nudged you, offering you a golden foil. You took one from him happily, and watched him as he took off an elastic band from his wrist to put his hair up in a messy ponytail. The chocolate he offered you was very delicious, and you guessed also probably very fancy. Hyunjin never held back when it came to pleasing the senses. But you wondered, how come he's offering you something sweet? Wasn't the ocean supposed to be salty?

He also ate a chocolate quietly next to you. The silence was getting heavy, which was very odd. Silence was always comforting next to him, but now, the less he spoke the more you felt confused and lost at sea.

"The bouquet ended up in the water." You told him, trying to make any sort of small talk. He hummed, put away the foil of the sweet treat he consumed, and eased himself fully into the pool. As soon as he was in, he let out a soulful sigh. He adored warm water, and you could tell from his body language, from the way his shoulders slumped and his neck craned to stare at the night sky, jaw wide open in admiration - that Hyunjin was in a happy place. Was it just you who was nervous, then?

To your surprise, Hyunjin pushed through the water all the way to the corner where the bouquet was floating about. He picked it up, and began to crush the flowers in his hand so that the petals would fall. He left the stems empty, and then threw them out of the pool. With powerful motions, he made the water roll in waves, so that the petals would scatter throughout the entire pool.

"Now it's just part of the decorum." He said with a giggle. He approached you, and his hand was warm and welcoming when it gently touched your knee. "Forget who they're from." As he beckoned you to join him in the water, you wanted to let those words hypnotize you. Allow the pain to fade to the background.

You join him in the water, and it embraces you like you were meant to be held in someone's arms your entire life. Even though you are surrounded by those petals - those empty promises, those broken parts of your heart - something inside of you is healing. You are no longer putting meaning or significance onto them. They no longer hold you captive. For that tiny moment, everything is as it should be: there is no other place you should have been. No other person you should have been. And no other person - besides your best friend with a dizzying smile - should have accompanied you that night. It was the universe's plan, and no one could be blamed for that.

The universe is vast. As you look up, through the thousands of celestial bodies before you, you can't pin point any to curse in grief and woe. Furthermore, you can't even name this strange feeling of acceptance. It had just appeared in your heart. 

"The sky is so beautiful." You mumble, and Hyunjin almost surprises you when he hums. He looks just as awestruck as you do, and you know for a fact he was the one meant to join you. You watch the rise and fall of his chest, the deep breaths he takes as he says absolutely nothing. He is in a trance, and you are entranced by him.

"The moon and stars are shining for you, my love" You hear him say, but it was quiet, like he wasn't sure of his own words.

"For all that is up there, up above,

In the gentle skies of angels and sinners:

The moon rays and the cheeky glimmers," He takes a pause, as if to rest for a heartbeat and let himself smile.

"They're all but lights to make your eyes shine -

And help you see yourself in mine."

"That's beautiful, Hyune." You complimented. You wondered just how many poems he had stored in his mind and heart. Would you need a library pass to find out? "Who's it from?"

"Oh, he's not a published author." He replied cheekily. "Although he wishes he could be." From the shy yet smug look on his face, it was easy to piece it together.

"Did you write it?"

"Mhm."

"Like, on the spot? Just now?"

"Mhm."

You're absolutely insane!" You tell him with a gentle slap to the arm. He giggles and your heart melts. "I swear there's no human being more talented than you." He looks down at the water and something peculiar sparkles in his eyes. Something naughty, like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to and yet he's unaware, he's proud of the mistake he's done.

"Well, it wouldn't be possible without you." You stare at him in confusion. Is he trying to thank you for supporting him and his passion for poetry? For the validation and reassurance you offer him when he works? It goes without question that you would be supporting your best friend- "Do you want me to recite the poem to you again?" You're confused and caught off guard. Frankly you have no idea what is going on, so you just shrug your shoulders awkwardly.

"Sure, I guess."

While Hyunjin has been standing to your side this entire time, leaning back on the edge of the pool, the scented candle between you two, now he moved to stand before you. He was blocking the moon, invading your senses, a dim light hugging his silhouette.

"The moon and stars are shining for you, my love" He's looking in your eyes, and his hands move to grip the edge of the pool on either side of you head. Your lungs are burning.

"For all that is up there, up above" He looks towards the sky for a split second, and then he looks back at you, his eyes clouding with mist.

"In the gentle skies of angels and sinners:" He searches for you hand in the water, and with the most gentle pull, he brings it to his lips to kiss your fingers. A rose petal slips off of you arm and back into the water.

"The moon rays and the cheeky glimmers," He's smiling. He's in his happy place, and yet, you don't know how to accept that the weight of the ocean isn't trying to harm you.

"They're all but lights to make your eyes shine -"  Was he seeing the moon in your eyes?

"And help you see yourself in mine." You were in his eyes. You were. It just took you so many years to see it.

"The moon and stars are shining for me?" You ask; you had to make sure. Your hands were shaking, and a chill ran down your spine.

"My love." He completed the lyric, and you were trying so so hard, to find oxygen in your lungs.

This was exactly were you were afraid of - that one step closer, the ocean waves would take you away, and you'd fall into the dark depths - and ultimately drown. "I'm in love with you." You hear him say. "I know you've been through so many emotions already, and this is just not the right time, because I don't wanna seem like I'm taking advantage of the situation and trying to be some sort of savior to you, but I really am in love with you and I can't stand watching you suffer-"

One of your favorite quotes you've ever read, by a person named Irtiqa Nabi, was 'The sea speaks more honestly to those willing to drown'.

You just had to be willing.

You just had to understand.

You don't need the oxygen.

You take one more, final breath and reach out to kiss Hyunjin before he rambled away all night. His hands fly to embrace you, to cradle your face, to shield you with his body. 

It was the most terrifying leap of faith you've ever made, but you finally realized the ocean wasn't evil. It wasn't trying to take your life away or rob you of your heart. No, the ocean was this being full of life, full of warmth; he wanted you to dive beyond the surface. He wanted you to uncover his mysteries. And he loved you so much. 

"Wait." Hyunjin pulls away, dazed and with unfocused eyes. He bites his lip. "Are you sure about this? Once you allow me to love you, I won't stop. I don't let go." You look up at him and smile. No matter how many times you tell him, it'll never be enough: he's so beautiful. But tonight, something is different. He's exactly how the universe wanted him to be. Exactly where the universe wanted him to be. So naturally, only poetry could describe the beauty of a man who had found his destiny.

"Make me you last love, Hyunjin." You plead, and his eyes fill with both admiration and tears.

"Oh, I will." He cradles you so gently, and yet so tightly. His long fingers are enveloping your face, his body is swallowing yours like the tide, and he kisses you, again and again. And with each one, you gain life, you gather courage, a new constellation is born inside of you. Astrologers could only dream of uncovering all those new-born stars.

He drags you into the middle of the pool, and guides your legs around his waist. He holds you with ease, and from this angle, when you look down at him all you see is joy. But he hides in your neck, and finds another happy place in there.

You rest your head on his shoulder and look up the sky. The moon rose to a higher position, and she looks so calm, so all-knowing as she beams on you. She knew what was going to happen already, and now she was grinning at you slyly.

"Can you see the moon from there?" Hyunjin asks you, and you hum.

"Mhm. But you can't, can you?" It's not like he's trying, his eyes are closed as he cradles you.

"No, just tell her I said hi." You laugh. You wonder just for how long, has the moon known Hyunjin's secret? "I've got my own night sky right here." He says, as he hugs you even tighter, squeezing you to his chest like you're his childhood teddy bear.

"Cheesy." You mutter, but you place a kiss just underneath his ear. That ear begins to burn, and then his whole face is red (that's why he's hiding it away) and Hyunjin thinks he'll never grow used to it. In fact, he promises himself he won't. He promises to always allow himself to be surprised by just how much you mean to him. Over and over again.

Minutes turn to hours, just like days always turned to years around Hyunjin. Eventually you climb out of the pool to not turn into raisins - but you still continue to be tangled with each other, making up for all the kisses you've missed for all those years you've kept each other at arm's length. It feels like a pipe dream to call him yours, to kiss his lips that felt like clouds, look into his eyes that filled with lightning, listen to the words filled with thunder. And yet, his heartbeat still spoke to you in calm waves-

You and Hyunjin jump from your seats at the sound of something loudly popping. You frantically look around for the sound, and you see Jihyo and Luna, holding a confetti tube towards you. The sparkly paper falls to the floor, while some are carried by the wind towards you.

"Congratulations!" The two cheer, and you can't help but snort. Where did they even get confetti from?

"Now that the cat's outta the bag, the asshole is out of the picture and you're finally dating the right guy-" Luna almost sounds like she's rapping while she rambles, and everyone carries amusement on their faces. "And this guy can stop whining in my ear about how much he wants you-" You turn towards Hyunjin in shock, and he tries to make himself small and hide. He fails. "We can finally have some nice, family fun!"

"I thought we agreed you'd let us have the pool tonight!" Hyunjin argues, but Luna tuts in response.

"So I can just watch you two make out from afar? Nah, I wanna see it in person." With the look of an almost psycho, Luna grabs your leg and pulls you into the pool with her. She splashes you wildly in the face, and soon Jihyo and Hyunjin join you in a water fight even a toddler would easily win.

After a while a whole lot of fun, you approach Jihyo for a light conversation while the other two are struggling to inflate a beach ball.

"Have you known for a long time?"

"About Hyunjin's feelings? No, it was Luna who knew. I didn't know until tonight, honestly."

Hyunjin has been confiding in Luna, it seems. She was the only one who knew his secret - or well, maybe she wasn't. You look up at the moon, and then back at Luna, and something seems to make you laugh.

It is very late into the night, and yet you are all still awake. It came to the point where you had to leave the water, but Luna stops in the middle of the hallway and blocks the path.

"Hey, didn't that girl teach you stuff about cleaning the pool and all?"

You didn't even remember her name by this point.

"Yeah, why?"

"So what cleaning supplies should one use, let's say, if the pool becomes dirty with... An entire luggage worth of clothes and stuff?"

"What?" Hyunjin asks, breaking into a wild laugh, but he feels as if he already knows what Luna is about to say.

"Let's throw David's stuff into the pool." You display a look of horror, but when you look at Hyunjin, you see him comically dash into the house.

You're too dazed to even register when the suitcase showed up in front of your face. All three of your peers attacked the zippers like wild hyenas, and soon your ex's clothes are sent flying into the pool.

"Even his underwear is ugly." Hyunjin says, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it as far as he could into the pool. "I'm gonna need hand sanitizer after this."

You start to enjoy it after a while. Sure, you still tell them to not throw anything electric or expensive in there, like his earphones or watch, but you are the one to chuck his toothbrush in the pool and watch it sink to the bottom.

"Revenge is best served wet, baby." Luna pretends to dust off her hands and leaves the scene of the crime with a deadly hair flip.

Giggling like a bunch of school girls, you part ways to go quickly shower the chlorine away from your bodies. Then you reunite, clad in your comfiest pj's, and cuddle to Hyunjin's chest to listen to the sound of the ocean waves.

"Angel?" He calls out to you, and you look at him with hazy eyes. "Would it be weird or overwhelming if I told you I love you?"

"No." You shake your head and giggle. It's not that it was new information to you, but it did hold a new meaning now. A meaning - you found - you were always craving to reciprocate. Why have you been searching for Hyunjin in all of those people, when he was right there with you, petting your hair and making you feel alive?

"And would it be weird or overwhelming if I said that to you every night?"

"No, I would like that actually." You reach up to kiss him. He welcomes it and chases after your lips, and it's such a new high, that you wish it to turn into a habit.

"Okay." He whispers. "I love you."

"I love you." You reply. You don't say 'me too', you don't say 'i love you too'. Because this is not an action that he does and you copy. No, you love him all on your own. It's so crazy, that you love him independently, and he loves you independently, and yet when you're put together, you form the same constellation.

It's a good thing Hyunjin locked the door, because somewhere around five in the morning you got woken up by loud banging on your door, your handle being shaken erratically and an array of swear words. Hyunjin woke up as well, and you both tried to stifle your giggles, because that night you heard swearwords and insults you didn't even know existed.

By afternoon, when you got out of your room, he was completely gone. Turns out he collected his clothes from the pool and left with them soaking in a garbage bag. Luna had snuck out in the morning to record a video of David, trying and failing repeatedly to fish out his clothes with the stick end of a broom. You laughed so hard it brought you to tears, and when you went outside to check, you saw the only thing left, was a chlorine infused toothbrush sitting sad and depressed at the bottom of the pool.

You blocked him and threw away the memory of him into the sea. You knew the sea would be mean to him, drown him out and silence him. Because the universe wanted someone else to love you.

The moon, the stars, and all the eight seas;

They whispered to you that you had found your destiny.

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[musings-of-a-rose]

Mistake

Pairing: Frankie Morales/Santi Garcia x f!reader

Word Count: 3000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Angst galore. Thanks to @vanemando15 for being a beta and @mermaidxatxheart for bouncing ideas around!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

Santiago Garcia Masterlist

It's bright. Why is it so bright in here? Blinking my eyes open, I'm met with the light streaming in through the curtains, shining across my face. 

And then the headache slams into me. 

Groaning, I grab my head, my fingers kneading into my temples, willing the pain to go away without having to move. I drank way too much last night and I'm certainly paying for it now. Nausea starts to set in, churning my stomach slightly as if it's preparing me for a lengthy bathroom session later. It's when I reach for my stomach that I realize I'm not wearing any clothes. A peek under the covers reveals that I'm completely naked. Well, at least I got comfortable before bed?

I play the events of last night in my head. Having the same best friends as your fiancé has its perks, but when they're all former soldiers, you definitely have to work to keep up with their drinking, especially with us being in Vegas. Our Bachelor  and Bachelorette parties were combined, all of us simply hanging out in each other's rooms and basically drinking, playing the occasional game. I vaguely remember Santi telling me, somewhere between my 6th and 9th drink, that this was why he added a day between the party and our actual wedding. He knew we'd need to recover and he was right. 

If you had told me 5 years ago that I would be engaged to Santiago Garcia, I would have laughed in your face. Not that he's a terrible person, but he's not the kind of guy I usually fall for. He's impulsive, hard headed, and a giant flirt, which is why it took me so long to realize he was serious when he asked me out. I'm honestly surprised I'd said yes, considering the amount of women I'd seen run through his home, some of them throwing things at him as they left. 

I remember the first time I saw that happen. Frankie chuckled and shook his head, saying that's just how Santi is. Frankie is the one of the group I'd bonded to the fastest, quickly becoming best friends and remaining so, despite my desire to be more. But life had other plans, giving Frankie a baby from a girl he barely knew. And though they gave it their best shot, it didn't end well. 

But then Santi swooped in and somehow, we fell for each other. And now we're getting married, which is something I never thought he'd agree to. 

I roll onto my side, headache following me and I see a toned, tanned arm sticking out from the between the sheets. I reach out, my fingers brushing his skin as I smile, a handful of flashes of the night before dancing in my head. Santi is an amazing lover, always responding to my every need and desire with fervor. Something feels different about the memories, though I can't quite put my finger on it. 

Rolling to my other side, I groan, swallowing down the churning feeling in my stomach. Soft skin, and that same arm wraps around me, calloused fingers gently rubbing my stomach, a sleepy attempt to help quell my quesiness. 

"Santi."

I feel Santi scoot up behind me, his body molding to mine as he pushes his nose to the side of my neck, nuzzling into it. 

His hand skates sleepily down my body, gently rubbing circles between my thighs in an effort to make me feel better. My pulse quickens, my breaths coming quicker as he continues to work me open. A nip to my shoulder sends warmth between my legs and my breath hitches. I bring my hand up, reaching behind Santi's head to grip his curls. Except, I'm not met with the tight, short curls of my fiance. These ones are longer, softer, more flipping out before becoming actual curls. My brain is rapidly waking, pushing past the hangover to process what was happening, who was happening. A small moan from him and my brain finally clicks it all into place. 

Frankie.

I grab his hand and toss it from me, yanking my body forward to create as much space as I can considering I'm pinned under the sheets. He protests, his hands still reaching for me. 

"Frankie?" I question, hoping to anything that I was wrong. 

"Mmm?" 

Shit. 

"FRANKIE." I'm more firm, scrambling to disentangle myself from the sheets that now feel like a prison. 

"Come back to bed. You weren't finish-"

"Frankie."

His body stills as my voice finally seems to permeate his sleepy, hungover state. He sits up quickly, hand flying to his head as he blinks, swearing under his breath as his head pounds. He whispers my name and I can hear the desperation behind it, hope that he's hearing things and didn't sleep with his best friend's fiancé.

"It's me."

His large hands run down his face, rubbing at his eyes before he finally looks at me, regret pouring out from behind his deep brown eyes. 

"I- what..did we…" He stutters, already knowing the answer to the questions he's trying to ask. 

"I..I think so." Tears well up in my eyes, my voice cracking as the weight of what had most likely transpired comes crashing down on me.

On us. 

"Shit….SHIT!" Frankie yells, slamming his fist down on the bed. "What the fuck happened?"

I clutch the sheet, holding it up to my neck as the tears start to fall. "All I remember is drinking way too much and I think you offered to take me back to the room? Santi… I don't know what happened to him. But Frankie, what..what do we do?"

"I don't fucking know, do I? Shit, this is bad. I mean not that I haven't thought about… but that's not the point…wait. Are we sure we even really…"

"You had half your hand inside me just a few minutes ago, Frankie. Safe to assume we did."

Frankie is silent a moment. "Unless you thought I was Santi?"

"Does it even matter?"

An uncomfortable silence falls between us, so much left unsaid whether from fear or self preservation, I don't know. 

"Don't look."

Frankie glances over at me. "Why not?"

"I'm getting out of the sheets. Turn around."

"Haven't I seen it all?"

"Do you remember?"

"Fair point." Frankie turns his head and shifts his body away from me, attempting to give me some semblance of dignity. Whatever is left of that anyway. 

I extricate myself from the sheets, reaching down to grab my clothes off the floor. Which is when I see a certificate on the table. Pulling my dress over my head, I walk to the table, picking up the paper and scanning it, my eyes growing wider with every word. 

"Fuck…fuck!"

"Did I mess up your clothes?" Frankie asks. 

I wish that was our problem. 

Grabbing the paper, I walk around the bed and stand in front of him, shoving the paper towards him. Frankie blinks up at me and takes the paper, slowly turning it around to read it. His eyes grow wide and he stands abruptly, nearly knocking me on my ass. 

"WE GOT MARRIED??"

"I don't remember!"

"Fucking hell, I… I don't remember either!" His eyes scan the paper again, looking for the butt of a joke and finding none. 

"May…maybe we can get it annulled?" I offer up. 

"Could we?"

I shrug. "They did on Friends."

He glances back down at the paper. "That's only half our problem."

"I'm supposed to get married tomorrow, Frankie. What the fuck am I supposed to say to Santi?"

He looks at me, regret oozing from him. "I don't fucking know, do I? I can't remember anything to even tell him, aside from waking up with a major hangover and my hand shoved between his finance's legs."

He stands angrily and I back up a few steps to give him space. But he misinterprets my reaction and his eyes narrow. 

"Do you think I'd hurt you?"

"What? No, I was giving you space."

He steps towards me and I step backwards, my own back bumping into the hotel wall. 

"I'd never hurt you. I've only ever wanted to love you and be with you but not…not like this."

"Like this?"

He gestures around. "Whatever the fuck happened." He takes a step towards me again and my breath catches in my throat. I'd given up on Frankie a while ago, trying to give him the space he would need for his daughter and his doomed relationship with her mother. 

His hand comes up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger there, thumb rubbing into my cheek as his eyes find mine. 

"I don't want you to marry Santi." It's whispered, but he may as well have yelled his confession. 

"I..what are you saying?"

His finger traces my cheek as I hold my breath, my eyes locked onto his as I wait.

"I love-"

Knock, knock!

I jump, swatting his hand aside as I walk to the door, smoothing out my dress before I look in the peephole.

Santi. 

"Querida, you in there?"

I glance back at Frankie who is still standing where I left him, pants pulled on but still shirtless. He crosses his arms, biceps pulling with the effort and he nods once. 

Taking a deep breath, I crack open the door and see Santi standing there, smiling when his eyes meet mine.

"Querida you're alive!" He chuckles and takes a step forward. When I don't open the door wider, he stops, eyebrows coming together.

"Is everything ok?"

Tears fall, tracing wet paths down my cheeks. But before I can speak, Santi steps forward and reaches out, wiping them from my cheeks. 

"Querida, what's wrong? What happened?" He's not joking around - he knows this isn't the time. His eyes take in my face, raking down what's visible of my body to check for any injuries. 

Suddenly, I can't talk. "I…I…" 

Santi's voice lowers, nearly to a whisper. "Blink twice if there's someone in the room that will hurt you."

Determined not to blink, I stare back at him. His shoulders relax after several seconds and he lets out a breath of relief. 

"Querida-"

"I love you, Santi."

"I love you too, but what-"

I pull open the door the rest of the way, inviting him in. His eyes are on me as he steps in and I gently close the door behind him.

"Querida, what-"

Frankie had shuffled his feet and Santi turns around, immediately on alert for trouble. He relaxes when he sees Frankie, not taking in the situation.

"Hey, Cat. You're alive too I see?"

Frankie glances at me. "I survived the night."

Santi laughs. "Surprising. You had so much to drink. I'm nursing a mad hangover so I know you have…to…be…" Santi's speech slows, his brain making the connection between my tears and Frankie being shirtless in my room, the sheets all mussed up. Santi's eyes snap back to Frankie's after looking at the bed. 

"Oh, what the fuck man?" I can hear him holding back his anger, hoping that he's misreading the situation. 

When Frankie doesn't reply, the hope disappears from Santi's eyes, replaced by a hurt that pierces me straight through. 

"You were supposed to get her back safe!" Santi yells, stepping closer to Frankie. 

"I did! She's here isn't she?"

"She's here and fucked by you! I knew I shouldn't have trusted you with her. I fucking knew but I thought you were over that little crush you had-"

Frankie moves away from the wall and steps towards Santi, finger pointing at him angrily. "It was never a little crush and you fucking know that. And you went after her anyway!"

"You went and got some girl pregnant! It's not my fault you weren't there."

"But you made damn sure you were there after!"

"Someone had to take care of her!"

Frankie steps closer, glaring down at his friend. "You fucking took her from me!"

"You fucked my fiancé!"

They were in each other's faces now, just a step away from each other.

"You never cared for her! Only wanted her after I said I loved her!"

Santi's eyes flash red, his entire body shaking. I've never seen either of them this mad before. 

"I fucking love her, Frankie!"

"Love her so much that you sent her back to a hotel room with the guy who she's been in love with for years and who loves her back?"

WHAM!

Santi's fist collides with the side of Frankie's face, sending his head flying to the side, Frankie stumbling from the force of it. Santi takes advantage of Frankie's momentary distraction and lunges at him, fists flying and hitting their targets. Frankie rallies quickly, throwing his own punches, shoving Santi back, his head hitting the carpeted floor as Frankie climbs on top of him, fist raised and ready to slam into Santi. 

"STOP!" I yell, but he doesn't hear me. I lunge for him, shoving Frankie sideways off Santi onto the floor. He shakes his head and looks at me, anger flashing in his eyes. 

I turn back to Santi who was trying to sit up, blood gushing out of his nose and his right eye swelling quickly. I reach out to touch his face and he flinches, swatting my hand away. 

"Don't touch me." It's quiet, but his words echo around my head. 

"Santi, I-"

"Let me guess. You're sorry?"

"I am, but -"

"No buts. You slept with Frankie. My best friend."

"I didn't know-"

"Do you have any idea how much you're killing me?" His eyes are watering and not from punches. "I never thought I'd stay with anyone and then…there you were."

"I-"

"You pulled me from a dark space. One I never thought I'd be pulled out of. I fucking loved you, querida." Tears fall from his eyes now and my vision blurs with my own as I watch him.

"And now you've fucked my best friend. My best friend! You just-"

"She didn't know." Frankie hasn't moved from where I had shoved him to the ground, aside from sitting upright.

Santi looks at Frankie with digust. "Didn't know? Did she just fall naked into the bed then? Just an oops?"

"It's my fault."

"You wanna elaborate on that?"

Frankie takes a deep breath, his eyes heavy and weary as he glances at me before looking at Santi. "We were both drunk. Her more than me. I really only remember getting her up here, making sure she took off her shoes. I told her to change her clothes because she had throw up on them. The next thing I know, she's yelling at me to get up, shoving me away from her."

"That doesn't-"

"She kept calling me Santi."

Frankie looks at me, hurt in his eyes. "She thought I was you right up until she was fully awake."

"I thought you said you don't remember-"

"I'm getting flashes. She called me Santi."

"How is it your fault?" Santi asks. "It's not like you just let her-"

"I didn't stop her. She called me Santi and I didn't stop her. I should have…but I didn't."

He moves too fast for me, olive skin bunched into a fist collides with Frankie's face, sending him flying backwards. 

"Fuck you, Frankie." Santi struggles to his feet, his hand coming up to dab at his bleeding nose. I stand with him, hands moving to his face to inspect his injuries. He flinches at my touch, but his eyes find mine and I break. 

"I'm sorry." It's not enough but all I can choke out. 

His hands grip my wrists, bringing them away from his face. 

"I love you, querida. But I…I can't." He cries, tears falling silently as his heart breaks from the pain I put there. "I can't do this. I can't even look at Frankie, and you? You're the last person I thought would ever hurt me."

"Santi-"

He drops my wrists and heads towards the door, pausing at the table where the marriage certificate between Frankie and I lays. He stares at it for several long moments before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wedding band, my wedding band, and sets it on the certificate. He doesn't say a word and he doesn't look back as he leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind him. 

The room is oppressive with its silence, despite not being alone in it. I feel like I'm suffocating, dying, like a part of me went with Santi and I knew I'd never see it again. 

"I'm sorry." Frankie quietly breaks the silence. 

"You're sorry?" I turn to face him. I know I am not innocent but what he just revealed makes me sick. "You knew I was calling out for Santi and you didn't stop me?"

"I-"

I wanna throw up, scream, throw things, something, anything to get away, crawl out of my own body. 

"I trusted you."

"I…lied."

"What?"

"I guess I didn't realize how much you actually love him. And how he loves you. And I wanted to give you a shot so I lied."

I take a step closer, anger radiating out from me. "Lied about what exactly?'

Frankie takes a deep breath. "You never called out his name. Not until this morning before we both were….aware."

"Then-"

"You called out my name. And I just…I couldn't resist. I'm so sorry. I'm a weak person I know. I was drunk and in love and…" He gestures randomly. 

"Get out."

"What?"

"Get out of my room."

I don't have to repeat myself. Frankie gets up off the floor, grabbing his shirt on the way out. He doesn't say anything but pauses to look back, regret and pain in his eyes. 

I don't blame Frankie. The more the day wears on the more I start to remember. I definitely started it, thinking it was Santi. When I realized it wasn't, I didn't stop. Just switched to the right name, my long love for Frankie winning out over drunk logic. 

And now I get to go back to an empty home, all because of someone's love for me that was not my fiance. 

>>Mistake Part 2>>

-------

General Taglist:

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[iaure]

I've only seen Godwyn x tarnished posts made by Wxnheart. I know Godwyn x reader content are scarce. So what's your take on a Yandere Godwyn?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i have thought over this ask quite a bit! godwyn is one of those characters that is simply quite difficult to write for, because of how little there is of him so far...hopefully shadow of the erdtree answers some of the questions!! but with lore videos galore (thank you zullie! thank you smoughtown!! thank you vaatividya!!) i have gotten quite the grasp on him! youtube comment gave me the cliffnotes ! ꒰♡˃̶̤́ ꒳ ˂̶̤̀ ꒱

warning: this goes into spoiler territory for elden ring

♡ originally, godwyn had seen you a little more than a subject.

♡ he had much to focus on. the emotional care of malenia and miquella was left to him, the golden order was to be left to him...he could not waste his time.

♡ he was a paragon. kind, good, strong, brave...and quite so lonely.

♡ with all that time spent on other pursuits, he wasn't really allowed the pursuit of himself.

♡ there was always something to be done.

♡ but one day, there's rumour amongst the demigods of someone who's managed the capture the hearts of many.

♡ godwyn is...confused. what?? that doesn't make sense.

♡ and like I said; at first, you were just someone else. another person in Leyndell who existed.

♡ but then, slowly, things began to shift.

♡ you didn't demand of him tasks, or ask him for some great favour. you would simply greet him and move on.

♡ the same could not be said of the Lands Between. he was always demanded of something, unless you were there.

♡ you had become a beacon of rest.

♡ the nobles hated to speak of their favours around you. you were an outsider.

♡ and godwyn could not be more grateful.

♡ he found himself hanging around you more and more often. part of him felt guilty.

♡ he felt like he was using you as a shield. but when you were around, he could do absolutely insane things-like sleep. or lay in the grass. or watch the stars.

♡ he began to see the Lands Between in a different light. no more was his soul a slave to the work thrust upon him.

♡ now, he wanted to dedicate himself to the feeling of being around you.

♡ but not everything could last.

♡ he began to feel guilty. he was using you as a shield, but what did that mean for you? were people getting upset at you for constantly getting in the way of their taking advantage of him?

♡ godwyn wouldn't stand for that.

♡ he needed to take care of you like how you took care of him.

♡ he was about being fair, about being equal. but he felt so far underneath your gentle demeanour that it seemed cruel.

♡ his mind was consumed by his adoration of you. you had become his shining light. the leading glow. the golden order could not possibly compare to you.

♡ perhaps you were some sort of outer god, intent to consume his heart and wrap your teeth around his soul.

♡ but he would accept that. one last favour, to the one he favoured above all.

[the1970sdeadgaywizard-regulus]

I JUST STARTED 64 (Crivers warning below. Spoilers and cussing galore)

HOW THE FUCK IS AMOS DEAD

NOOOO BARTYYYY

POOR BOY

@yesiamprocrastinating @l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft @bralnwashed @starsarestories

[scribe-cas]

Writeblr intro!

Okay, so, I've been here for forever, but if I made an intro post, I definitely don't remember it. So.

Info under the cut!

Welcome to my blog. Enjoy your stay!

"Who are you?" Great question!

Hi folks, my name is Cas, and I'm an amateur writer with a love for all things words.

I use He/they/she pronouns,, but neos are fun. I don't have chosen ones, I prefer to let other people use what they think is apt to depict me. :> but to keep it simple, he/they/she! Use whatever pronouns are in your heart for me!

I'm a slave to the whims of my whimsy. If what you're writing makes me feel things, whether they're dark and unsettling or soft and lighter than air, I'm there. A few of my interests are cryptozoology, psychology, horror, fantasy, music and dance, and just anything I can search for. My favorite game is pattern recognition and completion, which makes things like escape rooms and scavenger hunts, whether for treasure or lore (same thing) a huge treat for me. I love being able to search, so if you like hiding obscure lore, let me at it like a pack of hounds.

I write horror, fantasy, mystery, comedy. My current WIP is a slasher comedy with a side of childish whimsy served up on a silver platter with some slice of life and sex jokes for seasoning. Loosely similar energy to Gravity falls is basically everything I make. What can I say, it's what I like.

I'm 18+, work two jobs and have the retensive memory of a soggy goldfish cracker. My schedule is hectic. If you see me reblogging posts, but I've neglected to answer you or respond to something you send, it's not you! I just have the memory of a wet rag.

Most of my work has at least some suggestive elements to it, because sex is a joke to me (/voice of someone who is very, very aroace). But literally every work does if you peek hard enough. Literally just heed my 18+ warnings on this page and you won't run into anything too gross.

I love weird things! Weird things galore! The more fucked up and absurd, the more I cheer! If you think an idea is stupid, send it to me!! I'd love to discuss it with you. Those little one off facts you've come up with for a character? That Au that stemmed from a joke? That cringe thing you're fixated on? Hit me with it! As a man with questionable morals once said, "Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram!" And therefore, we should have as much fun as we can!

If you ask me about Couteau, I will literally pledge my life to you. I swear. Or if you comment on any of my writing with him in it. Anything.

My WIPs!

"Well, what stuff are you working on?" LET ME ANSWER THAT!

"Sweeter Than Silence" (Project status: Active; In Progress For: 7+ years)

This, my magnum opus, that I've been fiddling at and fucking with the concept of on and off for approximately 11 years, but have been writing for about 7-

Is my LGBT, slice of life healing and depression infused comedy about a woman who goes home to find that everything she's been looking for in a fulfilling life is already there. "Everything", being a murder mystery in her haunted town that she knows wouldn't hurt a fly without good reason, a ragtag gay friend group, and the local hot bartender who is so outlandish it's like he's not even human. (spoiler alert! There might be a reason for that-)

Goofing aside, this story is stuffed to the brim with just the most absurd concepts I could think of. A media about embracing the purest form of self, and learning to love that part of you that finds beauty in the weirdest corners of the world, even if it was killed very young, to embrace your curiosity, and to indulge in suspension of belief. A low stakes, supernatural slasher comedy between a girl who's been told her whole life she's too much and a man who only wants her to get freakier.

This story is: - One of three parts! - T4T! Both main characters are trans, and they have a romance. - Stupid. /pos - Full of the stuff that would make a 13 year old go wild - A Composed Character Breaking Down And Losing It (TM) - Morally grey murder - A bunch of other stuff

"Rose Colored Glasses" (Project status: In Stasis, no longer currently active)

A fanfic i started y e e e a r s ago, when the Hazbin fandom was starved for content. A multi-chapter reader perspective fic, where, after falling into hell, they help an overcompensating Overlord Valentino cease his abusive ways. It's a fix it fic. It's me fixing him. Mostly just an excuse for me to dissect and make a dissertation on Valentino's possibly horrifically fractured and bruised psyche. I like the version of him I made up in my head, but I also like him canon, because he's horrific but he's also just. Iconic. Let's be real. Motivation for this passed on when Hazbin itself shattered my theories, but I still keep it around for fun.

The fanfic:

I also have personal notes that I won't be linking, but if you wanna know more about my theories, please ask! Even non canon, I love talking about my AU Valentino.

"You're Free" (Project status: Finished! Just for fun)

A fanfic I busted out in like an hour and a half once for a video game that gripped me by the neck. (Cryptid Coffeehouse, I love you.)

Not much to explain on this one, it was a self indulgent little scribble I did once, although if you haven't played CC, I highly recommend it.

The fanfic:

Books two and three of BISTS (the overarching series that Sweeter Than SIlence starts!) I know what happens in them, I just have to write it out. Wish me luck

Miscellaneous smut fics that I've done as spin offs of my own series just for fun and to explore different power dynamics. If I ever post any of them, they'll go on a pseud specifically for schrodingers fics (both canon and not, it depends on how I feel) under forgotten_scripture (AO3 account)

Miscellaneous Info!

My blog is sorted into tags!

castalk - Me saying words! bists/blood is sweeter than silence - All of my WIP info on Sweeter Than Silence and it's series. couteau my beloved go back into your box - The tag I specificslly use for anything and everything about my antagonist/first book series love interest. I highly recommend checking out this tag if for no other reason so that you have to look at him. coudoodles - Art I've done of. my antagonist.

Use these to navigate your way around here! I'll add more as needed.

I have a huge fixation on the antagonist of Sweeter Than SIlence. I mentioned him earlier, but, his name is Couteau, he's my stupid 6'4 redhead who wears 2 inch heels to make himself taller, he's a moron, he's immortal, and he's my beloved baby. I lose my shit over this man on a daily basis. Genuinely, bring him up to me and I will talk for hours. I do not regret it. I'm haunted by visions.

I love awful memes. 200% permission if we've never interacted to just send me a bad meme. I want one

And or, I spend a lot of time stuck in spots where I need music recommendations. Throw a song at me!

My inbox is always open. My DMs are always open. I love talking. Do not fear me. Come tell me about your favorite things.

Hey long haired redheaded trans men!

Having a shitty day?

Feeling dysphoric?

Need a mood boost?

Send your selfies to my inbox and watch me go absolutely incoherent about the fact that you look like my OC! For the small price of one existence, I will hype you up to unspeakable levels because you deserve it!! Watch a stranger on the internet rave about how unspeakably fantastic you are!

(mostly kidding about this, but if it would make you feel better, go right ahead, I'm always happy when my obsessions spread love /gen)

Aaaaaand, on that note-

I think that's it!

If you read all of this, wow, look at you!! You did fantastic!!! I can't wait to ask you about your projects, and am waiting with bated breath for you to ask me about mine. HAHAHA

Anyways! Welcome to my blog!

Enjoy your stay!

~ Cas. <3

[our-future-is-up-to-us-2]

The Jackal

Whooaaaaa we're almost caught up I swearrrr WHOOAAA living on a prayerrr (Fic number 8 and it is currently the 9TH!) @narcosfandomdiscord

Enjoy <3

Prompt #11, Book Of Pit Stops: Rush

Word Count: 1.1K

Relationships: Charles "The Jackal"/Nuria

Warnings: SPOILERS! Spoilers galore!! Episodes 1-5 of this show have been watched by me, and thus, a patchwork of spoilers throughout this rambly fic! Beware if you're a spoilerphobe!

~ Read the fic under the cut ~

The Jackal lives in secret. He hides from everyone and everything.  

He dons disguises and becomes people who he’s not meant to be, for example, a certain Herr Thirsk, who, to The Jackal’s knowledge, may or may not be real. 

Passports are essential if he’s globetrotting. No one bats an eye at the switches, at the effortlessness of it all. If it says he hails from Germany, that’s where he’s from. Then France? He’ll be a Frenchman for a day, who cares?! 

The information is proper, organised, and it looks legitimate. That’s all that counts in The Jackal’s line of work: Efficiency, quality, and legitimacy. 

After all, someone is set on hiring him, paying him grand amounts of money to make as many kills as possible. A hitman does what he needs to do, whatever it takes to target the best of the best. 

He uses bespoke weaponry and state-of-the-art prosthetics. His materials, his safes, all of it, are top-notch. There’s nowhere in the business that he can fail, except for his own human error. 

He trusts his gunmaker to the ends of the earth, he trusts his aim to make the kills, and he trusts others to give him whatever he requires. 

Because, as he tells Nuria one sunny day in Cadiz, it’ll hurt the brand if people don’t pay him what he needs. It’s not all about the money, though, and even worse if people don’t follow his orders. 

If he sets instructions, they’ll be met. If someone fumbles, then they’re out of the game. 

The Jackal avoids taking unnecessary phone calls and explicitly warns his loveable Spanish relatives not to post whatever photos they take of him. As beautiful as celebrations and warmth and memories may be, he simply can’t risk being exposed. 

***

After the ordeal with Manfred Fest, a very classy and striking ordeal if he does say so himself, he’s attracted attention. Or, at least, a ‘killer’ has done so. A killer could be anyone, but only someone of his expertise could make the shot from 3815 metres away. 

He travels in taxis from one place to the next, keeping his language fluency intact with every country he visits. He passes Nuria after she’s dropped him off at the airport, but is his cover blown? 

If he’s not answering his phone, then it won’t be. 

Besides, he has a tingling, almost unwelcome feeling that his wife will find out. And, if she does? If the other Charles, Jackal’s in-law, helps her, then he’ll know.

He doesn’t have a safe without passwords, a lock without a key, or a room full of secrets without protection. 

A camera inside a prosthetic face. A marvellous touch. As his wife snoops around, horrified by what she’s seeing, he’s seeing her right back. 

It’s harmful to the relationship, detrimental, in fact, but he’ll just class it all as ‘industrial espionage’. You know how it goes, Nuria, a bit of spying, a bit of illegal activity, and… 

A lot of murder, but The Jackal doesn’t reveal that much.  

***

It’s so satisfying to see people at his mercy, to watch their trembling hands as they kneel before him. Whatever string of ‘oh, god, spare me, please, no!’ that escapes people’s mouths never deters him. Unless there’s something more to offer, The Jackal will do away with them. 

Man, woman, guilty, innocent… Doesn’t exactly matter. If they’ve misunderstood their obligations to him, then, their time is up. 

***

The Jackal bites back a laugh as he gets wind of recent news: A girl, one named Emma, dies in custody. The police are legally responsible. Whoever sent her into custody is feeling guilty for the rest of their lives. 

Isn’t it perfect, for the authorities to be in the wrong? In their attempts to catch a criminal, a killer, a hitman, they misstep. 

Well, they don’t just misstep. They’ve killed a daughter. They’ve ruined a mother, a father, a family. All of the girl’s friends will be devastated, all the good she hoped to achieve in life has been thrown into the gutter. 

He stares at the article for a while, never once losing his focus. He laughs, and laughs, and laughs. 

When Nuria catches him in the act, swiftly barging into his study, he hums and settles. The rush almost becomes too much, but he closes his laptop. 

Her gaze implores him to talk, so he does. 

Still, he demurs and deflects, “No, no, it’s nothing, really,” A certain twinkle in his eye reveals everything to her, “Well, if you must know, my work has just become very interesting. ” 

“You’re in that place again!” She hisses, but he remains unfazed, “You’re always there, and never here… Come on , Charles. Come back to me.” 

He leans back in his chair and shrugs, “I’m here, darling. I’m here. ” 

“You don’t get it,” She shakes her head, “Because, sometimes, I look at you, and I just see–” 

“What?” He intervenes with a lazy smile. A gentle tilt of his head. Charm, suaveness, everything in between, “Tell me. What do you see?” 

With a sigh, she decides she can’t help herself, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She holds onto him, lets her smaller body sink into his lap. 

“I’ll tell you what I see,” She whispers, “I see a motherfucker. ” 

“Oh, fuck you!” He replies, equally as quiet, and their lips meet not long after. 

It’s just one of the many games they play. Teasing, banter, time alone, they cherish it. Nuria can tell when he’s drifting away, off with the fairies of business and stocks and, well, whatever he actually does. 

So, it’s her job to bring him back to reality, to remind him of the people he has: It’s her and her love, it’s little Carlito, turning two years old tomorrow. 

He goes for long periods of time, doesn’t come back for a few days, then a week, then two. He tells her, over and over, the same sentiments: People are too inconsiderate, they have no empathy, he’ll be back as soon as his shifts are over. 

Whatever he does, the majority of it is out of her control. 

She can only hold onto him when he’s physically here, when Charles is in her reach. 

Otherwise, she is full of doubt, confusion, and emotions that extend beyond herself. Her family can only calm her so much. 

She needs Charles, the lover, the husband, the family man… Not Charles, the sketchy, flighty businessman. 

Not Charles the hitman, Charles the plotter, Charles the ruthless manipulator and assassin. 

‘Industrial espionage’ is all it is. And hopefully, that’s all she’ll ever know. 

[callmebrycelee]

9-1-1 REACTION

Dearly beloved, we’re gathered here today to discuss the latest episode of 9-1-1. This reaction is for the season 7, sixth episode “There Goes the Groom” which originally aired May 2, 2024. The episode was written by Tim Minear and Nicole Barraza Kiem and directed by John J. Gray. Just a word of warning, this reaction will contain spoilers. You have been warned …

“He’s Tubbs, I’m Tubbs and this isn’t my puke, I don’t think.” – Eddie Diaz to Maddie Buckley

We start things off at a gorgeous venue where Maddie and Chimney’s wedding is to take place. We see Bobby and Athena looking restless and John and Anne Lee sitting with Jee-Yun. We then see Maddie freaking out because the boys (Chimney, Buck, and Eddie) are 30 minutes late. Phillip Buckley (played by Gregory Harrison) tries calling Buck’s phone but keeps getting his voicemail. Hen rushes in to tell Maddie that Buck’s car has arrived. When Maddie asks if Chimney is in his tux, Hen tells her she didn’t get a good look. Buck and Eddie arrive looking like they’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards. Eddie’s covered in someone else’s puke (gross!!!) and inexplicably missing his shirt. This season is all about giving us what we need and what we need is Ryan Guzman shirtless. Maddie asks them about Chimney. Buck tells her that it’s complicated. 

Cue title card.

We get a flashback to the bachelor party Buck organized for Chimney. It should be pointed out that Chimney doesn’t want a bachelor party, something he’s intimated to Buck numerous times. I must say, the venue Buck chose to host the festivities was really cool-looking. There were all these neon signs on the walls and twinkly lights galore. It reminded me of a space where you’d play laser tag. Buck and Eddie are dressed in matching pastel Miami Vice-esque suits and Buck is being very fussy about everything. Tommy (played by Lou Ferrigno Jr.) arrives dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans and Buck nags him about not sticking to the 80’s theme. I’m gonna assume that Tommy is in his late-30’s and therefore Buck should be lucky he even came in the first place because the thought of leaving my house on a weeknight to go to a bachelor party does not sound the least bit appealing. Eddie offers Tommy a drink and he tells him he’s on standby which for all you kiddies out there who don’t know how jobs work, standby means that you’re technically not scheduled for the shift, but you have to be ready in case you get called in to work.  

“You put that back, right now.” – Evan “Buck” Buckley to Ravi Panikkar

Tommy does give us a hint about Chimney’s nickname when he reminds Eddie that he knew Chimney before he was Chimney. I love the whole mythos surrounding the name and I hope by the end of the series we finally get an explanation. I also like how sassy Tommy is in this scene. Hen, Karen, and Ravi arrive but our guest of honor is missing. While Buck calls Chimney’s cell, everyone else looks bored out of their mind. Buck asks Hen to call Chimney since he’s more likely to answer her call, but she declines. She reminds Buck that Chimney told him he didn’t want a bachelor party, but Buck tells her he didn’t. We then get a small scene where Chimney doesn’t mince words when he tells Buck he does not want a bachelor party. It should be noted that Eddie is present for the exchange and yet he is the one to suggest to Buck that they dress as Crockett and Tubbs from Miami Vice. Now, this is my one pet peeve about Eddie. He always indulges Buck and then kind of absolves himself of responsibility when things go awry. 

Back in the not-so-distant future, people start to leave. Buck begs Hen and Karen to stay but they tell him they have to get home to Denny and Mara. Ravi is the next to leave followed by Tommy who gets a text to report to work. Buck is so disappointed to see him go, and I love how he tells Tommy to be safe before he leaves. Eddie is the only one left and when a group of young women wander into their party space, they decide to salvage the rest of the night by turning up with a bunch of strangers. Now, prior to the episode airing, Tim Minear announced that a previously advertised scene involving Buck and Eddie singing karaoke was cut due to the episode being too long. This led to more than a few irate fans, mostly Buddie shippers, sending a barrage of tweets and comments to the series co-creator voicing their frustration with the decision to remove the scene. Some even accused the writers of queer baiting which is really dumb when you consider that one of the characters is actually queer so what baiting is even involved. I get being upset because your favorite pairing on the show is not being featured as prominently as you would like but I find it absurd that someone would then go to Beyonce’s internet to harass the writers and the cast about said decision. I find it disgusting and I wish a certain ship would realize that certain writers would take them more seriously if they weren’t acting like a bunch of coked up baboons. But I digress.

Buck and Eddie wake up the next morning in a completely trashed hotel room. The place is wrecked. Seriously, who is going to pay for all the damages? I’m honestly surprised by both of their behavior. Especially Eddie’s. He’s usually the more level-headed of the two but it’s odd to see him exhibiting such frat boy behavior. Perhaps he needed to blow of some steam. Anywho, they go to check on Chimney but only find his tux. Oh dear!

Buck and Eddie wake up the morning in a completely trashed hotel room. Seriously, who is going to have to pay for all the damages? I’m extremely surprised by Eddie’s behavior. 

“I am 9-1-1.” – Maddie Buckley to Margaret Buckley

Back in the present, Maddie tries calling Chimney herself. When he doesn’t pick up, Hen asks if she has him on Find My Friend, a feature that will send current or last location to anyone you choose to share it with. She sees that Chimney is on Century Park East but wonders why he’s there.

We next see a guy named Jeff (played by Khorri Ellis) knocking on the driver’s side window of Chimney’s vehicle. Chimney is inside looking a little worse for wear. He’s sweaty and bleary-eyed. He looks like he has the flu. He also seems out of it. Chimney rolls down the window and Jeff asks him if he’s okay. He tells Jeff that he feels like he should be somewhere. Jeff asks him his name and Chimney says his name is Howard. Chimney says he needs to leave but Jeff, rightfully, tells him he is no condition to be driving. He offers to drive Chimney where he needs to go and when Chimney steps outside the vehicle, Jeff gets in, chucks Chimney’s cell out the window, and drives off leaving Chimney stranded. 

FOUR DAYS AGO

“I promise to never put her in a position where she feels she needs to stab me to death.” – Howard “Chimney” Han to John and Anne Lee

We see Chimney with John and Anne Lee (played by Kelvin Han Yee and Freda Foh Shen) practicing Jesa, a Korean ceremony in which one pays tribute to a loved one on the anniversary of their death. I love any time we get to see Chimney with the Lees because while he has been able to make amends with his father, John and Anne Lee are his real parents and Kevin Lee, their son, is his brother. Chimney and the Lees have dinner together and Anne asks Chimney if he is excited about the wedding. When Chimney goes to respond, his hand starts shaking and he drops his food. John jokingly asks if he’s nervous, but Chimney assures him that he doesn’t have the jitters. He is, however, feeling jittery and tells them he has a headache he can’t seem to shake. Anne offers him aspirin, but Chimney tells her that he will be fine after he says, “I do”. 

John asks him about what happened to him and Maddie’s plan to have a simple ceremony at their home. Chimney tells him that the plan has changed. Phillip and Maddie Buckley are flying out for the wedding and have offered to foot the bill for the venue since they were not at Maddie’s first wedding. Anne says they waited to attend the right wedding. Chimney makes a dark joke about Maddie having to kill her first husband Doug and the Lees laugh. Chimney says he looking forward to having a traditional wedding; however, there is one tradition he is not looking forward to and that’s having a bachelor party. 

Back in the present, Chimney sees his phone lying in the middle of a busy road. We see him walk into traffic to retrieve it and he almost gets hit by a bus. The driver opens the door and Chimney boards the bus. When she pulls off, the wheels of the bus crush Chimney’s phone. 

We head over to the wedding venue where everyone except for Chimney is gathered. It was so fun seeing all of the main and secondary cast in the same scene together in their formal wear. Athena gets a call from Officer Williams (played by Chris Wu) who has located Chimney’s phone but neither Chimney nor his car is with it. Athena asks him to put out a BOLO for Chimney and his car. Maddie asks Officer Williams if there are any traffic cameras nearby and he says there are a few. 

Maddie, Hen, and Josh go to the dispatch center. Maddie says she will check the Century Park East traffic cam footage to see if she can find Chimney and Josh will check the call logs to see if there have been any calls from that vicinity in the last 12 hours.  Sue sees them and asks if this is a runaway bride situation. Hen tells her they are looking for a runaway groom. 

Back on the bus, Chimney is clearly not in his right mind because he is hallucinating Doug Kendall (played by Brian Hallisay). Doug sits next to him, and Chimney asks if he knows him. Doug says that Chimney may forget everything else, but he could never forget him. Doug is wearing a Santa hat and has a gift he says is from the both of them to Maddie. He opens the bag and pulls out of knife which he uses to stab Chimney in the side. Even though I knew that Doug wasn’t real, that didn’t make this scene any less troubling to watch. Doug twists the blade and disappears leaving a confused Chimney alone on the bus. 

“Maybe I got too caught up in the dream wedding. I was so excited about marrying him.” – Maddie Buckley to Hen Wilson

Meanwhile, reviews the camera footage and sees Chimney walking into traffic. She sees him almost get hit by a bus and then board said bus. Josh says the bus is a metro bus and asks if there’s any way they can see the bus ID number. Maddie writes down the number and gives it to Sue who tells her she will call the MTA. We then see Chimney get dropped off in an unfamiliar part of town. We switch back to dispatch where Maddie and Hen are reviewing the footage from inside the bus. I love seeing these two work together because out of all of our characters, these two love Chimney the most. Maddie notices that Chimney’s talking to himself, and Hen thinks he may be hallucinating. Maddie wonders if this is some sort of delayed reaction to his brain injury from back in season one or if he’s having some sort of breakdown. Hen reminds Maddie that when Chimney gets stressed, he deflects. Maddie wonders if Chimney marrying her is the thing that’s stressing him out, but Hen quickly lets her know that marrying her is the one thing he wasn’t stressed about. She tells Maddie that the only thing she’s sure of at the moment is that Chimney can’t wait to marry her. 

Josh returns and tells them that he talked to the bus driver who says that Chimney seemed a little out of it but otherwise normal. The bus driver also said that Chimney kept talking about being late for work. Hen points out that the bus Chimney was on wouldn’t go anywhere near the firehouse and wonders where he could have been dropped off at. Speaking of Chimney, we see him standing out in front of a building. He talks to a man named Carl (played by Exie Booker) and asks him about Skinny Bob’s K-Town Karaoke. For those of you who recall the episode “Chimney Begins” that is the name of the bar where Chimney used to work prior to joining the 118. Carl tells Chimney the bar burned down which we saw in the very same episode. Chimney has flashes of the night the bar burned down but he can’t quite piece together the memory. The make matters worse, he starts to see Doug again only this time his future wife’s dead husband is covered in blood. Chimney freaks out and runs away.

“”We’re gonna find him, Maddie.” – Athena Grant to Maddie Buckley

Athena checks in with Maddie and Hen and tells them she talked to Carl who says that Chimney looked agitated and feverish. Carl also told Athena that Chimney thought that the bakery where Carl works was a karaoke bar. Athena tells them that she has some officers searching the area and she and Bobby plan to stick around just in case Chimney comes back. She assures Maddie that they will find Chimney. Josh reminds them that Chimney’s bachelor party was at a bachelor party; however, Maddie points out that the bachelor party was the night before. Sue asks if it is possible Chimney doesn’t know what day it is. Hen chimes in and says she’s not sure if he even knows what year it is. She pulls up an article from 2005 on her phone which shows that Chimney saved a lot of people by getting them out of the karaoke bar when it caught on fire. Maddie wonders if he’s forgotten 20 years of his life and Hen says he might not be the only one.

TWO WEEKS AGO

“You don’t have to worry about this. It’s all taken care of.” – Evan Buckley to Maddie Buckley

We get another flashback scene, this one involving the 118 responding to an emergency where Thom DeSalvo (played by Brandon Bales) is trapped inside an air duct. Buck broaches the topic of Chimney’s bachelor party and the latter volunteers himself to go into the air duct while the rest go inside the room directly beneath where Thom is trapped. Chimney locates Thom and checks his vitals. Thom tells him that his heart is racing, and he has chest pains. He then sneezes directly into Chimney’s face. Chimney tells Thom to relax but he says he cannot relax because he just saw his fiancée having sex with another man. I kind of felt bad for Thom because he is truly heartbroken although if I were his friend, I wouldn’t have advised that he go spy on them. Meanwhile, Bobby, Hen, Eddie, and Buck are able to knock out a portion of the ceiling and lower Thom down. As he is loaded into an ambulance, Hen talks to the woman Thom said was his fiancée and discovers that she is, in fact, not his fiancée. She says that Thom is her ex-husband and that they’ve been divorced for 17 months. 

Back in the present, Buck brings Maddie a change of clothes and Eddie brings food. Buck notices that Hen is on the phone, and he asks Maddie who she is speaking with. Maddie tells him that Hen is checking on the patient Thom from their emergency two weeks ago.  Eddie is surprised the guy is still in the hospital since he wasn’t even hurt. Maddie tells them that Hen thinks that Chimney is exhibiting the same behaviors as Thom. Hen announces that Thom had viral encephalitis that he picked up while in Central America. Buck points out that Chimney was in close quarters with Thom. Eddie suggests they all get checked to see if they have it. Hen points out that Chimney was the only one who had direct exposure to Thom. Josh asks her what the prognosis is and Hen says that if Chimney were in a hospital it would be good but every minute that passes without treatment, the swelling in his brain gets worse. If Chimney does not get medical attention ASAP, he is going to suffer permanent brain damage and most likely die. Maddie asks her about Thom Desalvo’s status and Hen tells her that he died earlier that morning.

“He may not remember who he is but he is who he is.” – Athena Grant to Bobby Nash, Evan “Buck” Buckley, and Eddie Diaz

We see Chimney wandering the streets of Koreatown in a state of delirium. He nearly gets hit by a car and the driver, who is either under the influence or experiencing a medical emergency, plows into a farmers’ market, hurting a lot of people in the process. The paramedic switch is flipped in Chimney, and he springs into action. He tells a woman to call 9-1-1 and tends to the driver who is having a seizure. It’s amazing that Chimney is able to stay focused to help everyone, even while in the midst of his own medical emergency. This scene reminds me of when Mateo on Lone Star jumped into action during the dust storm back in season two.

Athena, Bobby, Buck, and Eddie arrive on the scene of the accident and Bobby reports that a man fitting Chimney’s description was on the scene triaging the area. Eddie thinks this means that Chimney knows who he is but Bobby quickly adds that Chimney told one of the witnesses he works at a karaoke bar. Athena sees this as a good sign regardless because Chimney is tapping into something that is so natural to him which is helping others. Bobby says that Chimney was last seen 30 minutes ago so he suggests that they canvass the area to look for him. Athena says she will get the police involved in the search as well. 

Buck strikes off on his own to look for Chimney and he does end up at the spot where Chimney is at; unfortunately, Chimney is passed out, so he does not hear Buck calling for him. Chimney receives another visit from Doug who tries to convince him that Maddie left him. Chimney remembers the video Maddie left him before she left for Boston. Doug tells Chimney he is sick in the head and that he screwed around with a married woman. Chimney then sees himself lying on the ground after he got stabbed by Doug back in season two. Doug tells him to stop fighting and to go to sleep. Chimney eventually passes out and sees a white light.

“Howie, you got to get up, man.” – Kevin Lee to Howard “Chimney” Han

Now this is the part where I started to tear up in the episode. A man dressed in turnout gear steps out of the light and Chimney sees that it’s Kevin Lee (played by James Chen). It is in this moment I realized that we never saw Chimney grieve his fallen brother. Chimney starts to cry upon seeing Kevin. Kevin tells him to get up and Chimney says he is so tired and that his head is hurting. He wants to rest but Kevin says he cannot. He tells Chimney he is sick and needs medical attention. Chimney touches Kevin’s face and tells him he misses him and that he’s glad he’s okay. Kevin tells Chimney that he will be okay, but he needs to get up. He drags Chimney to his feet and tells him that Doug was never there. Chimney says that Kevin is there, and Kevin says that Chimney invited him. Kevin tells him all he needs to do is get home. 

“We always find our way back to each other somehow.” – Maddie Buckley to Howard “Chimney” Han

Chimney ends up at the Lees house asking for Kevin Lee. Anne tells him that Kevin is dead. Chimney starts crying again and finally collapses onto the floor. He wakes up in the hospital where Maddie is at his bedside. She asks him if he knows where he is at and he shakes his head. She asks him if he knows who he is and he apologizes for missing their wedding. Maddie starts crying and now I’m crying, too. Maddie is happy he remembers. Jee-Yun runs into the room with Phillip Buckley close on her heels. Chimney tells Maddie he was trying to get back to her and Jee-Yun the whole time. Chimney asks Maddie if she will marry him, and she says she will the minute they get out of the hospital. He asks her when that will be, and she says the doctors say it will be three weeks. Chimney tells her he doesn’t want to wait that long. He doesn’t want to wait another minute.

We next see Maddie back in her wedding dress. I must say, the viewers give Phillip and Margaret Buckley a hard time based on their previous relationships with Maddie and Buck, but I have to say it was so nice seeing the Buckley family together and on the same page. Back in Chimney’s room, John and Anne Lee are helping him into get into his tuxedo jacket. John tells Chimney that Kevin is smiling right now, and Chimney agrees. Okay, cue more tears. While Jennifer Love Hewitt sings a cover of “Islands in the Stream” which is the song Maddie and Chimney sang karaoke to, we see Maddie being walked down the hospital corridor by Phillip while flower girl Jee-Yun walks ahead of them. Phillip leads Maddie into Chimney’s room and Bobby officiates their wedding which feels so appropriate. They exchange vows and rings and finally kiss in front of their family and friends. I loved the moment when Bobby is talking about the significance of the rings, and he looks over at Athena. It’s just a reminder of how perfect the couples on this show are.

“Thanks, Tommy. It looks like you were … busy.” – Howard “Chimney” Han to Tommy Kinard

Buck gets a text and leaves the room while everyone is applauding Chimney and Maddie’s union. He makes it to the emergency room just in time to see Tommy walk through the sliding doors. Tommy is covered in soot and ash and immediately apologizes for being late. He tells Buck that the fire he just fought was a beast. Buck calls him a beast and kisses him. Now this kiss was an upgrade from the kiss two episodes ago which is already a great kiss. It was a great first kiss. With this kiss, the passion was turned all the way up to an 11. Seriously, these two have such amazing chemistry and I love how things are gradually escalating. I do love that Buck is the one who initiates the kiss because it shows that he is all in on their romance. 

Buck and Tommy head back to Chimney’s room aka the wedding and Tommy immediately apologizes for missing the wedding. He congratulates Chimney and Maddie and Chimney thanks him. There’s this amazing moment when Chimney puts two and two together and realizes that Buck and Tommy are together. He is immediately accepting as I knew he would be and Hen whispers to Karen that it’s about damn time and of course Hen already knew because Hen is very perceptive. We get other reactions as well. Eddie looks both proud and happy for his best friend and Margaret gives her husband Phillip a look that says, does that mean what I think it means and Phillip looks content. As I mentioned before, the Buckleys get a bad rep by the fans but I am choosing to see this as a good sign of things to come. 

We end the episode with Maddie and Chimney. She asks him how he is feeling, and he tells her he is feeling right at home. She jokes and asks if that’s because every significant moment of their lives happens in a hospital. He tells her that he feels at home because they are together. He looks around the room and says it’s not the most romantic place for their honeymoon. Maddie says there’s worst and at the same time they say upside down cruise ships. Ha! Maddie looks at her ring and says she can’t believe they are married. She says it’s the wedding of her dreams and Chimney says it’s a day he’ll never forget. Chimney asks Maddie if Buck and Tommy were a thing before his amnesia and she says yes. He says that means his memory is back. In the last moment of the episode. Chimney asks Maddie about the meaning behind his name and then it fades to black. I guess we will have to wait to find out how Chimney got his infamous nickname.

So, that’s our episode and what an amazing episode it was. Looking back at the promo for “There Goes the Groom”, Tim Minear and Company really had me convinced that we were getting an homage to The Hangover. I was not expecting this episode to be as heartbreaking and heartwarming as it was. Shout out to Kenneth Choi who deserves his flowers. He not only delivered some of the most powerful moments of the episode, looking back, Kenneth has been constantly delivering since season one. The scene where he talks to Kevin shattered my heart into pieces only to superglue it back. Chimney is usually the comic relief of the show and it’s often been said that comedians are some of the most unhappy people on the planet. Who knew he was holding onto so much grief. In many ways this episode reminds me of last season’s “In Another Life” where Buck learns just how valuable he is to those around him. Chimney has a similar journey in this episode and thankfully he’s walking away from this horrific ordeal knowing just how loved he is by his family, his friends, and most importantly his wife. 

The Madney wedding wasn’t what I was expecting but it was better than anything I could’ve ever imagined. One thing I think the writers did well with this wedding that I wished they did with TK and Carlos’ wedding over on Lone Star is the joy aspect. Everyone in that hospital room was filled with love and happiness despite everything that had transpired. I love how once a season we get these moments where the cast is all together, celebrating, and it’s the rare occasion we get to see the actors come through their characters. This is a cast that loves each other and it’s so apparent. It’s one of the many reasons I love this show. But, I digress. Maddie and Chimney’s wedding was absolutely beautiful and had we not gone through all the drama and tragedy, we would’ve missed out on Bobby being the officiant. It makes total sense that our fearless leader would be the one to marry Chimney and Maddie. I look forward to what happens next for Chimney and Maddie. These two have endured so much trauma and heartache and I pray the writers leave them alone for awhile. 

Lastly, I have to talk about the moment that has set both Twitter and Tumblr ablaze albeit for different reasons. Many have doubted and still doubt the legitimacy of Buck and Tommy’s burgeoning relationship, but I think this episode made it abundantly clear these two are here to stay at least for the rest of this season. I don’t know what plans Tim Minear has for these two characters but I love the slow burn of it all. Sometimes I’ll be sitting, doing nothing, and it’ll dawn on me that Evan “Buck” Buckley is bisexual, and he is dating a kind, patient, and extremely hot firefighter named Tommy Kinard. And maybe it’s my imagination but this is the happiest Buck has ever looked. The smile he gives after he comes back to Chimney’s room with Tommy is something I will rewatch this episode over and over again just to see again. Oliver and Lou’s chemistry is off the charts and that shouldn’t suggest that there’s anything wrong with Oliver and Ryan’s chemistry. I think Oliver has chemistry with everyone he appears on screen with. And, as the mostly one-sided war rages on between Buddie shippers and BuckTommy/Tevan/Kinley shippers, I think at the end of the day, the most important thing to remember is that Buck is bisexual, he is (mostly) out, and he is happy. We have seen this man endure emotional and physical turmoil since episode one. I’m happy that he gets to be happy and that’s what matters. I cannot wait to see what happens next. Until next time …