#their first meeting is actually very very cute! and then it goes dark again when philza learns hes the prince but hes no longer-

[moonstruckme]

have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble

AHHHHH CONGRATS CONGRATS CONGRATS

how about like secret royalty, like very princess diaries-esque, with sirius???? he's basically royalty anyway, so either him or reader suddenly entering his world would be so cute

Thanks lovely <3

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 1.2k words

With the early arrival of the visiting king, the uproar the palace (You’re actually not sure what you’re supposed to call this place. Castle? Mansion? Home? (You really hope you’re not supposed to call it home, that seems awfully quick.)) has been in since your arrival triples in severity. Your grandmother completely disappears, the nice older man who’s been showing you around goes with her, and when no one wants to take on the problem of the new and completely untrained princess, you’re shooed into the nearest sitting room to wait things out. 

“Well, this has to have been a mistake.”

You give a start, turning in place to find a young man stretched out like a cat on a settee by the window. He has longish, dark hair that spills like ink over the green upholstery and cunning eyes that are narrowed curiously on you despite his disinterested countenance.

“Or I suppose maybe your team’s just stashed you here the same way my father’s stashed me,” he says, and the voice that emerges from that small, pretty mouth is just as smooth he looks like it would be, self-assured and infused with an accent that speaks to a privileged upbringing. “I don’t imagine they’d like knowing their new pet is cavorting with her equals so early on.” An untrustworthy smile curves his lips. “Could be fun. Should we ring for food?” 

You have half a dozen questions, but what makes it out is, “Pet?” 

The boy tilts his head, giving you a knowing look. “You’re an unhousebroken puppy, sweetheart.” His eyes dip to the dress they’d put you in this morning, skimming their way back up to your face and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “A very pretty one, but as far as royals are concerned, an embarrassment. From what I hear, that’s hardly your fault, though.” 

You sit a cautious distance away from him, on a parallel couch. The afternoon sunlight spills over the top of his settee and hits your eyes, but you bear it rather than move. 

A week ago, a couple of days even, you wouldn’t have been able to make eye contact with someone like this. But though this boy is prettier and speaks more brashly than nearly anyone you’ve come across, you’ve grown remarkably used to novelty since being sat down in front of relatives you didn’t know to be told that you were heir to a country you’d never heard of. One upside to the chaos of the last few days is, you suppose, it might be making you braver. 

“Who are you?” you ask. 

“Oh, my god.” He smiles, seemingly delighted. “You really are brand new, aren’t you? I’m not trying to sound arrogant,” he says at your flustered look, “it’s just we’re usually trained to know important people before we ever meet them. It’s not every day I come upon someone who actually has no idea who I am.” 

A little laugh trips off your tongue. You tell him, “You’re not making your not-arrogant point very well.”

“Well, I never said I wasn’t arrogant.” That dastardly grin again, slicing across his face like a weapon. “I said I didn’t want to sound arrogant. I’ve been told it doesn’t make a very polite first impression.” He stands, graceful limbs unfurling, and starts for the door. “I’m Sirius. Are you hungry?” 

You nod dazedly as he crosses the room, and it’s only then that you realize he’s wearing a suit. Or, parts of one. The jacket and tie have been cast off, hung over the arm of the settee, but he’s still wearing the pants (thank god) and a dress shirt that appears blue in the light but otherwise is so dark it might be black. 

Sirius opens the door, murmuring to someone outside. When he’s done, he heads for you instead of the settee. Kicks his shoes off and settles in across from you, legs crossed underneath him like you’re at a sleepover. You decide to follow suit, turning to face him and trusting the length of your dress to protect you from scandal as you tent your knees in front of you. 

“That’s better,” Sirius says, and his eyes look different with the light cutting across them. Before, they’d been in shadow, but now they’re the color of heavy clouds, a faint bluish hue brought out by his dress shirt. “You looked stunning with the light on your face, but you’re even lovelier when you’re not squinting. I asked for someone to bring us chicken nuggets, is that alright? You’re not vegetarian, are you?” 

You’re surprised at the choice, but that quickly gives way to relief. You feel a smile tugging at your lips at the banal normalcy of it. After the five-course dinner you’d had the night before that had tormented your unrefined stomach for hours afterwards, chicken nuggets sound like a dream. 

“That’s good,” you reply, and Sirius returns your smile with feeling. “Who were you talking to out there?” 

“A member of my detail is just outside the door,” he explains airily, as if security details are something everyone has and talks about on a routine basis. Your astonishment must show on your face, because he raises a slender eyebrow. “You don’t have one? I suppose not every kingdom does. Or, if you haven’t left the palace, you might not have met yours yet.” 

“You said your name was Sirius.” 

“I did.” 

“But you didn’t say your last name.” 

Sirius’ lips twist wryly. “I did not.” 

Maybe it’s his own audacious manner, but you feel like you can be straightforward with him. “Why not?” 

He shrugs and lists sideways, leaning his shoulder against the back of the couch. “Maybe I’m still enjoying the novelty of you. I don’t often get to talk to people without all the genteel manners and button-up-ed-ness.” 

You tilt your head. “You’re one of the Black family, aren’t you?” 

Sirius nods, looking unsurprised you’ve figured it out. It’s obvious he’s royal, so it really wasn’t that far a leap. He doesn’t look like any of the family you’ve met so far, and the only other royals are the ones visiting.

“So does that make you the king’s son?” 

“There are two of us, actually.” He mirrors you, tilting his head so it’s resting against the couch. “But I’m the oldest, so I get to go on all the fun trips.” 

You feel your lips twist again. “Yeah, you seem like you’re having a blast.” 

“Oh, let there be no misunderstanding, doll.” He straightens, looking you in the eye. It feels like being under a spotlight, and it’s all you can do not to look away. Sirius grins. “This is my fun face. I’m having a far better time with you than I have at any of these things in years.” 

“Oh.” You can’t help it now, and your gaze flees down to the skirt of your dress. You take a bit of the fabric between your fingers, distracting yourself with the extraordinary silkiness of it. “Well, happy to help. Maybe while your family is here our paths will cross again.” 

You look up, and his expression has softened into something nearing genuine. “I’ll be sure that they do,” he says.

[bruisedboys]

shy!r x sirius at a halloween party, please? :)

ofc angel!! sorry this took so long, please enjoy my one and only halloween themed blurb hahaha!

sirius black x shy!fem!reader

You’re an odd mixture of nervous and bubbly as you and Sirius make the rounds at James and Lily’s halloween party. You haven’t met all of his friends but some of them, so he’s introducing you to the ones you don’t know. So far you’ve met three people dressed as wizards and you’re starting to think it’s an inside joke.

Sirius, dressed in an incredibly attractive black leather getup, dark makeup and red horns sticking out of his wavy hair to complete the look, leads you into the kitchen where a pretty blonde girl is mixing her drink with a fruit skewer.

“Marl! Hi, doll,” Sirius kisses the cheek of the girl in question. “This is my angel, Y/N.” He gives your hand a squeeze and encourages your forward. “Sweetheart, this is Marlene.”

You feel yourself go hot in the cheeks. He keeps introducing you as his angel, which is probably your fault since you picked the angel costume. A flowy white dress, dewy makeup, white fluffy wings. You thought it was simple and cute and wouldn’t draw too much attention to you. You’re starting to realise how very wrong you were.

“Hi, Marlene,” you manage, embarrassed.

“Wow, you look incredible,” Marlene gushes excitedly, moving in for a friendly hug. You detach yourself from Sirius to hug her back. She looks amazing herself in a lacy black dress and fake blood all down her front. She pulls away and holds you at arms length. “You’re so pretty!”

“Thank you,” you say, more flustered than ever. Sirius is still close but he’s distracted showing off his outfit to Remus in the kitchen doorway. “It’s really good to meet you.”

Marlene beams. “You too, I thought Sirius was hiding you from us!” She laughs, then lowers her voice and leans in close, “He is looking after you, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” you laugh. You can’t help but giggle at her serious tone. It’s not the first time one of his friends have asked you this, mostly as a joke, but you know it’s also because he’s so intimidating and you’re decidedly un-intimidating.

“Yeah, he is,” you tell her. He really is. He’s a sweetheart under all the punk. You suppose the angel-devil thing isn’t helping your case much, but it’s true, and you don’t care if other people think you’re an odd match. Sirius likes you the way you are and you him.

“Good,” Marlene nods, satisfied, and leans back. “Was it just me or did I hear him call you ‘my angel’? That’s awful. He’s such a—“

Sirius appears at your side again. You know he’s there a second before he appears because his warm hand finds a place at the small of your back before he interrupts,

“What are we talking about, girls?” He asks loudly.

Marlene squints at him.

“Speak of the devil,” she says, which is funny, because he’s literally dressed as a devil tonight.

“You were talking about me?” He asks, pleased. He slides his arm around your waist and pulls you into his side. “Hope it was about how devilishly handsome I am.”

You and Marlene make twin faces at each other.

“Sure, Pads,” Marlene deadpans, her nose wrinkled.

Sirius grins. You’d never admit it but he is actually extremely handsome and you could probably talk about it forever.

“I knew it,” he says. “C’mon, babe, I’ll introduce you to Frank and Alice, yeah? I think they’ll love our costumes.”

You let yourself get tugged away by Sirius, happy to follow him wherever he goes. Marlene winks at you when Sirius isn’t looking.

[ghost-bison]

Doctor Who: 1x08 The Satan Pit (2006) / 60th anniversary special 2/3 Wild Blue Yonder (2023)

I frankly love that parallel. One scene taken out of each of the two RTD eras.

First there's the colour palettes. You can see that they're polar opposites. RTD era1 was warm all the time as talked about in this post (which I love dearly, I keep referencing it in my posts), and then we have RTD era2, which has a more modern-looking, colder palette for science fiction.

But it's also a directing choice for the mood I think, cause on the one hand, we have Rose who, we all know, would even give up on seeing her mum again if it meant she got to spend the rest of her life with the Doctor (quite like Donna back in series 4 actually, who was very prompt to say she was going to travel with Ten forever). On the other hand we have Donna in 2023 who's now got a daughter and a husband and who hadn't even planned on doing a trip with the Doctor in the first place, let alone at the edge of the universe. I mean, they were just supposed to go see Wilfred! On one side we have Ten who's slowly recovering from the trauma of the Time War and falling in love for the first time in a while and re-learning that he deserves to be loved, too. On the other side we have Fourteen who, just as Donna put it, is "staggering", and as Fifteen said, is "running on fumes". He's got FOUR regenerations worth of trauma on Ten who was already struggling as it was with one (since the Time War I mean. Maybe two if we count Nine, cause who knows what he's been through between his regeneration and meeting Rose). Fourteen went through losing Rose, Donna, Amy, Rory, River, Clara, Bill, and he went through Pandorica, billions of years imprisoned by the Time Lords in his own personal hell, finding out about the Timeless Child, etc... and now, on top of everything, he's got to deal face to face with the guilt of what he did to Donna as she's been given back to him. Anyway, it's dark, when you think about it. No wonder the colours are so much colder in Wild Blue Yonder.

Then there's the music. In The Satan Pit, the soundtrack, The Impossible Planet, has a mystical quality to it. It's slightly creepy (I mean, it IS an episode about Satan), but it's mostly mysterious. Ten and Rose are only 500 years away from home. But in Wild Blue Yonder, Fourteen and Donna are 100 TRILLION YEARS away from home. The soundtrack from that scene, The Edge of Creation, isn't just mysterious, it's eerie and ethereal and perfectly encompasses what it would feel like to stand somewhere so impossibly alien it has become supernatural (if you can't tell I am obsessed with that track and episode lmao).

I love the contrast between Rose and Donna and the questions they ask. Rose's question is cute, she's like "I've seen it in films, is that it?", it stems from a place of curiosity, like she doesn't really realize the deep shit that they're in. She's just a kid. Whereas Donna's question, it stems from a place of dread: "Where's the light?". It almost has a "The Licked Hand" quality to it (if you don't know that story: the girl is scared, she puts her hand under the bed, her dog licks it. She goes into the bathroom, finds her dog dead in the tub, and written in its blood are the words 'humans can lick too').

Then, finally, there's the order in which things have been done: in The Satan Pit, Rose remarks they're "a long way from home". Ten takes a long look at her, and seeing that she seems a bit scared, he explains to her how long it would take to get home. In Wild Blue Yonder, Fourteen first explains to Donna how long it would take to get home, and only THEN, he takes a long look at her, and finally Donna says "that's my family, over there". It parallels Rose's sentence in the sense that they both talk about home and how far away it is, but they use different words for it with a different meaning behind. Donna is more specific on what she'll be returning to when it's over (her family), whereas Rose, who isn't as grounded as her, just says "home" (which, for her, probably just means the place she grew up). I also love the contrast between Rose's "a long way" and Donna's "over there". The first implies foreign, the second implies close enough to see. What's interesting about this bit is Donna is further away from home than Rose is, geographically speaking. But for Rose, Home is actually the Doctor, just him, so she has no problem saying she's "a long way from home" since she doesn't mean it in the same way Donna would. So for Donna, when she says "over there", it's because the Home she's talking about is closer to her heart, and she's probably trying to reassure herself that she'll see her family again (I used to do something like that when I was in primary school, I'd travel all the way back to my house in my head to kiss my parents on the cheek because I was so homesick).

So that's that I guess

[colourstreakgryffin]

Had a funky idea.. what about a Charlie x Pinkie Pie like! Reader? :)

Haha! Awwww! This is my first time ever trying out Charlie! For real, Charlie would absolutely love Pinkie Pie and we know it! I wanted to do romantic but for some reason, I can’t really get anything out unlike what I wanted so sorry, this is solely platonic!

Charlie Morningstar- Balloon Soul

Charlie is a sweetheart. She loves the concepts of positivity, sunshine, rainbows and cupcakes. Anything good has her one hundred percent attention. So when she meets you, the embodiment of joy and friendship growing, she automatically befriends you and learns about you

She doesn’t understand how you’re a Sinner. You’re beaming with hyperactivity and happiness. Yet, here you are. Instead of being a client, she hires you to work at her Hotel since you’re simply perfect at spreading redemption with your good-hearted but energetic character

Charlie will happily attend any party you throw; outside of the Hotel or inside the Hotel. She also relies on you to be the party planner and be the general activity planner since you’re really creative and capable at organising big events. Even better than her girlfriend, Vaggie. You become a valuable member of the Staff in no time!

Charlie also enjoys telling you her favourite sweet flavours because you’ll come in with cupcakes or a big cake, all for her! The fact you remember absolutely everything about her makes her heart flutter. She adores you, you’re basically another version of her… just a bit more talkative, jokey and loud but the personality you two share is why she likes you so much, you bond so well with people

Charlie is so close to you, you’re basically her right hand lady, that her girlfriend, Vaggie, gets jealous of you and she has to clear it up with Vaggie to ensure nothing goes back inbetween her best friend and her love

Charlie really appreciates how much of a sweetheart you are as well. You’re a very good friend, warm-hearted and sympathetic whilst working hard to make people smile so when she feels down, you’d make sure she is laughing and smiling again in no time. She loves this

Charlie is the first one there and the last one out of anything you arrange; farewell party, we succeeded party, birthday party, couple anniversary party, we redeemed sinners party! Anything, she’s dolling herself up to get your approval and she adores how cute your party-accessorised ball gown is

Charlie actually turns to you for emotional support. Believe it or not. You may be hyper and childish but you’re actually really emotionally well-adjusted and with your backstory of being a dull, miserable child that found happiness through colour. She looks to you for advice when she needs it inside a sad dark place

Charlie also leans on you heavily, you’re her right hand and she knows you won’t mock her in any fashion. Suspect her to rant to you about her problems with her relationship with Vaggie(rest easy Alastor) and there is very little times that she doesn’t take what you offer her

Charlie likes your hair… it makes no sense but she loves brushing and tying it up for you. It’s a big bubbly mess but it’s a beautiful bubbly mess. You two can trade doing hairstyles together early in the morning and it’s precious. Charlie feels more pretty when her best friend and her girlfriend say she is

Charlie is quite good at handling how talkative and upbeat you are. You talk as much as she does and therefore, she is really the only person in the Hotel that can tolerate how much of a high-spirit chatterbox you are. She enjoys it since you act like she is your younger sister, she is fine with you always chatting

Charlie likes how cute your Hellborn alligator friend is, Gummy. It’s a adorable fang-less baby alligator that is clamped on your hair and she’ll happily help you care for him when you can’t and she is getting use to the feeling of a small Hellborn alligator clung onto her ponytail by his tough gummy jaws… it’s not as uncomfortable as she thought

“Leitora! Leitora! Here! Here! Look at this balloon animal I made! It’s just like the one you made for me! Do you think Vaggie would like it? Do you like it? I like it! Are you proud of it?”

[bananaactivity]

Okay so this Morgie/Hook pic is draining me 🙏😔

I’m not even CLOSE to being done. I think I’m gonna take a break from this bad boy and work on a comic inspired by my small conversation with @kori-xo it make take a bit cause I can never stop editing comics 🥺

I willlll get into my version of Morgie and Hook 😻

This is Killian James Hook he is a rich kid who ran from home and eventually became the first lost boy. He ran away from home for 5 months ADT (Auradon time) but for him it was Five years NVRLT(Neverland time) He actually does miss his parents but he’s made friends with Peter Pan, the newest lost boy; Pete is an abandoned kid so he doesn’t understand why Hook missed his rich kid Lifestyle.

Eventually Hook returns home promising he’ll be back and never leave again, but he stays for two months, and his parents trick him into to believing he got a full ride to the Prep school he always wanted to ( they actually paid for it but Hook is stupid during his young teen times) He returns to Neverland to explain, but Pete is not understanding at all. He’s gotten new kids to join him and he cuts off Hooks right hand, feeds it to a croc and forbids him from ever returning to Neverland as he’s a “betrayer”.

Hook couldn’t beat him because he had no training in swords or fighting, Hook is so absolutely pissed off he decides to peruse a degree in Piracy and Swordsmanship and his desire for revenge becomes more blood thirsty as he grows older. He is 19 when he meets the OGVs (original villains) and they attend the same uni. Consider this a more aged up Merlin’s Academy setting.

He loves Morgie and Maleficent, he respects Uliana a lot, and he and Hades have a very “charged” rivalry if you get what I mean… everyone says the vibes are strong when they argue but if you ask them they say just hate each other soooo much. Speed running some things Hook goes for 12 months (12 years on NVRLT) to kill Peter Pan but he accidentally has Harry with some rando, I can’t think of who I just know it was an accident because Hook had “needs” and you know how that goes…and has to bring him home so he’ll actually grow beyond a actual infant. Maleficent threatens to curse Harry if she isn’t invited to ALL his birthdays with her and Hades new baby Malll💖

Morgie la Fay is the child of Morgana, the sibling of King Arther of Camelot fame. Morgana was not born with her expansive list of powers and witch craft and inflicted her body with dark primordial magic. This causes her to become unable to bear her own children, so using her blood she does some dark magic and creates Morgie after many months of bloody sacrifices and chantings. Morgie was born a horrific, lanky, fanged, pure black beast, with yellow eyes of a serpent and a long tail. He crawled on all fours and instead of baby gabble, he made guttural crows and coed often.

I’m sure you guys would find him cute, I just haven’t finalized a design yet… Arther and Merlin also had children… Archie and Marvin respectively. Morgana wanted Morgie to be close to his cousin so she presented as reformed. Arther actually accepted 💀 and eventually Morgie came into his own developing the red haired form you see above at around five years old. Marvin doesn’t like Morgie but of course Archie loves his cuz and thinks he’s the coolest primordial beast witch thing ever.

Eventually they all attend Merlin’s school and Morgie meets Hook, instantly adores him of course… Morgie chooses black smithing as his masters and he forges with gold enchanted with dark soul energy. He actually crafts, as a graduation present, a new golden hook, sword, and pocket watch for Hook.

He has a whole host of dark and ancient abilities but he still really dum so he doesn’t think quick enough. I’m having Marvin trap Morgies mom in an infinite loop of death and revivals . Which makes Morgie want to take over Camelot so he can free her. So for a 10 period after Harry turns 4 Morgie goes off to Camelot to terrorize it. He only returns after Jay and Carlos , who were looking at territory options for Mal, disturbed the small cave he was resting in. He chased them across the sea to the shores of the isle ( in his eldritch form) where Hook resides with his son. Before stoping once he recognizes Harry and reunites with Hook.

[anavilante]

Age difference modern AU

20 year old student John and 30 year old professor Gale (top John, bottom Gale, no vers)

Gale is a tired, homely college professor who was hired by Curt's parents as a physics tutor. Gale is kind of an ugly duckling, he dresses poorly, doesn't take much care of himself, he's introverted and gets anxious easily if something goes wrong.

Curt needs help with his studies because he got into a big fight and spent a lot of time in the hospital, and there are subjects that he was initially bad at, and after missing a lot of the material he no longer understands anything.

John is Curt's tall, big, self-confident, cheerful and arrogant best friend, with an overdose of testosterone, who loves sex, alcohol, gambling, fighting and reckless acts and non-committal relationships, who studies at another college. He comes to Curt, where he notices a reserved but attractive tutor. John begins to hit on him instantly, which amuses Curt incredibly, because he thinks that John is just making fun of the quiet, modest Gale, because he has never seen John interested in guys before. (John is like "Hey, this tutor Gale is very attractive, can't you see? Large eyes, puffy lips, soft facial features, a refined figure. You just need to take a closer look, he's cute.")

Gale sternly informs the merrymakers that he is not interested because he has been married to his childhood friend Marge for many years. This is not entirely true.

When Gale was a student, he had several attempts to start relationships with guys, but they all ended in disaster, Gale realized that guys really want to fuck, but other than that they don’t want anything else. Not wanting to endure the attacks of homophobes and still be unhappy in his personal life, he decided that it would be safer to have a quiet family life with Marge.

Marge heard that Gale was sleeping with guys, but Gale assured her that it was all lies of slanderers and she gladly believed it, because she needed a soothing lie more than the unpleasant truth.

Despite the refusal of the married professor, John is very persistent. He meets Gale at every opportunity at Curt's house or at college and the problem is that Gale likes this big dark-haired guy with the devilish sparkle in his shameless eyes, he awakens desires in his body that he has not thought about for many years. And due to long-term abstinence, now these desires are 100 times stronger and simply drive him crazy.

Therefore, Gale decides that if this guy really wants to sleep with him, then ok, so be it, it will only be once, and there are no problems with it, because John is an adult and he is not his student, he doesn’t even go to college, where Gale works.

And they have sex. And even if they are both completely clumsy (John due to wild zeal and lack of experience in sex with guys, and Gale due to loss of skills after a long break) this is the craziest and most beautiful thing that they have tried with another human being. The first time they come several times before they even get to the actual penetration, they are all wet, covered in sweat, saliva, precum and sperm and Gale thinks it must all be dirty and nasty, but he doesn't care, sexually charged John gets aroused over and over again like a damn teenager and Gale’s body incredibly immediately responds to his arousal with its own, and in the third round they managed to do what it all started for. And it seems to Gale that if he were to die right now, with John’s tongue in his mouth and John’s hips pressed between his sweat-soaked thighs, he would die a completely happy man with no regrets.

Of course, all these promises about one time sex go to hell. Gale continues to meet with John and he is not sure who is looking for these meetings more, he is of course sure that it is the hormonally charged John and it is not Gale at all, who refuses the part-time job offered to him in order to ride, moaning like a shameless whore on John's dick. This is not Gale, who forgets about Marge’s errands to take her car to the auto repair shop for servicing, because John came to Gale’s work after classes ended and fucked him with his back pressed against the wall of the utility room among brooms and buckets, and Gale covered his own mouth with his hands and wet cheeks with tears from closed eyes due to an overabundance of sensations and the inability to throw out some of them with moans and screams. This is not Gale, who found out that he and John have the same 1.5 hours of free time and rushes across town to John's house to suck his dick, drooling down his chin, and then sit on his face so that John eats his ass out thoroughly and finally Gale being fucked from behind, with John's huge hands wrapping around his narrow waist and impaling him on his dick absolutely as he pleases.

Gale has to admit that sex with John is like nothing he's ever had before, when he was 10 years younger. All his partners thought more about their own pleasure and Gale was left with only small crumbs from their sexual feast. John is fascinated by Gale and his body, he adores every inch of him, the devilish fire in his eyes when he fucks Gale with his fingers and watches him moan and squirming on top of them, squeezing his thighs together in embarrassment, no different from the lustful fire as he pushes the full length of his cock in and watches Gale's eyes roll back into his head with the proper pleasure of being filled with his thickness.

This, and John's absolute lack of shame in sex, does incredible things to the reserved Gale and inspires unprecedented courage in exploring what he likes in sex and what his partner likes, because he's initial selfish desire to get more pleasure for himself, Gale's attention moves into the "how to give John maximum pleasure and drive him completely crazy in bed" and when he succeeds he feels incredibly smug.

End of part 1

Part 2

PS This story was born from listening to the song

[bunglestraydogs]

Nobody but Oda and Atsushi really care for Dazai.

Before ANYONE starts coming after me viciously and saying that obviously it's not just them that care for Dazai, I know. I'm not saying nobody else cares. I'm just saying that these two cared the most and are genuinely worried for him. Well, were. RIP Oda. <3

Let me explain why.

We all are very much aware of the jumpscare we got in BSD Wan, right? Where we thought it was all cute and happy, and BAM we get fucking shot in the chest by Dazai's "When I go, I hope to go out just as beautifully."

HELLO? This was not okay. Usually, when we hear Dazai talking about suicide (save for Fifteen and The Dark Era) he's pretty whimsical about it, not ever really serious. Yet, here, we see just how serious he is. Atsushi does think he's half-joking at first, before he looks towards Dazai and just sees this dead, dull look in his eyes whilst he smiles at the sky. Atsushi is rattled by this, and genuinely distressed. Fuck me, I sobbed when I first watched this scene, I was not expecting the wholeass 180. Anyways, we see how upset Atsushi is by this statement. "Please don't say stuff like that, even as a joke." We still get zero reaction from Dazai. Nothing. Here, we see him without his usual comic relief mask, but he's still guarding himself.

Let me get into why I think.

Dazai has not had anyone genuinely care about him at any point in his life (excluding before he was 14, fuck knows what happened there) so far. Mori, who was essentially a really twisted and fucked up father figure, didn't care about his wellbeing much, except for the fact that he stopped him committing suicide multiple times for the first year that he knew him. Not out of the kindness of his heart, but due to the fact that Dazai was still a necessary pawn in Mori's plans, and he couldn't let him die yet. It literally says so in the Fifteen LN.

Chuuya cares about him to some extent. When Dazai gets wounded (and it's not inflicted by Chuuya) he gets worried and concerned. Prime example being during their fight with Lovecraft, when Dazai gets fucking slapped against a tree. Chuuya punches Lovecraft with a "heavy fist" and then immediately runs over to Dazai, making sure he's okay. When Dazai eventually looks up, Chuuya becomes shaken at how bad his wound is. Then, the next time that Dazai gets slapped again, Chuuya is very very shaken, as Dazai starts spouting off about how he's going to die, and his final words. Chuuya is clearly rattled, and is trying to get him to shut up, asking him what the hell he means. Then, obviously, Dazai is messing, and Chuuya grows anger. Despite Chuuya's hatred for Dazai, he is clearly concerned where his partner's wellbeing is involved. The first time they meet, Chuuya is once again shaken by Dazai when he says to "kill him now then", and is taken aback. Through the years, however, Chuuya becomes desensitised to Dazai's suicidal antics, and he even teases him when they reunite, asking him if he still wants to kill himself, then grows disappointed when Dazai outright admits to it.

Kunikida is of course concerned about his partner, but is also exasperated and annoyed by him. When Dazai goes missing, he even jabs at the fact that he could of actually succeeded in killing himself this time (he mentions that he's probably floating in a river somewhere). As he does mention, though, "That man's ability to avoid death approaches nightmare proficiency." Then Ranpo, "Not even the Port Mafia would be able to get the better of him." And Kenji, "Even after all those suicide attempts, he's still as lively as ever." This is obviously fucking true, all of it. He sees through everything and each step of his is carefully planned and atriculated. However, as Atsushi says, "Still, aren't you worried?" He knows this, and he understands what they're saying, but he is taken aback by their lack of care. Then, Tanizaki steps in, saying that he'll help look for him. King. Atsushi is happy about this clearly. Atsushi really cares for him already, and he doesn't understand why everyone else is so calm about this situation. It's because they all know that he'll get himself out of there in one piece, as he is able to avoid these types of things expertly and deftly. However, Atsushi still is worried for Dazai. Kunikida has been Dazai's partner for two years now, and so he knows all of his antics and tricks, much like Chuuya. Chuuya, however, knows him better and more in depth. Because the ADA Dazai isn't really him. Of course, it is him, but with his darker side hidden a lot more. I don't think he's ever revealed it to any of the members except for Kunikida during his entrance exam. The rest all think of him as some goofball who's good at what he does and has a passion for suicide and women. However, Chuuya knows him as a twisted, unwell guy with a passion for suicide and all things dark, with a but of a wacky side to him. These two parallells still have one thing in common, however, and that's obviously suicide. Anyways, sorry, I was getting out of hand. Kunikida clearly cares for Dazai and his wellbeing, but again, is also infuriated by him and his attempts at suicide, which nobody takes seriously.

Mori. Fuck, man. This guy? Real piece of shit. Sees Dazai as an asset in his plan, nothing more, nothing less. He values him as a Port Mafia member, not a human being. The dehumanising nature of Mori greatly impacts Dazai and his quest for death; Mori exacerbates this multiple times. Yes, he stops him continuously from killing himself, but once again, only because he needs him as a piece in his game plan. He was the sole witness to his promotion as the boss of the Port Mafia, he can't have him go die on him now. So, he keeps a close watch on Dazai, surveillance constant. He controls and manipulates the shit out of him, using his craving for death as a means to get him to do what he wants, bargaining a drug for a comfortable way out in exchange for him doing missions for him, to which Dazai expects, wanting him to make him that drug. Mori saved him at 14, yet Dazai continues to attempt suicide countless times in just that one year. Mori does not care for his wellbeing, mentally or physically. He drives him out of the mafia with Oda's death, yet still expects him to want to come back as an executive. Despite claiming that he didn't drive Dazai out of the mafia, he indirectly did so. Now, I don't know if he sent Oda into this with the expectation that Dazai was going to leave, but I think he did but also don't think he did? I think he did this as a means to get Dazai more under his control and manipulate him, because he knew how close they were and he knew exactly what strings to pull to get Dazai to snap. Except, I don't think he predicted Dazai actually leaving the Port Mafia, because he couldn't of predicted what Oda would say to Dazai, and he couldn't of predicted how deep their bond was.

This brings me to my main and next point; Oda was the only one who ever cared for Dazai. Ango of course did, but not to the extent of Oda. I don't know if many people have read it, but if you haven't, spoilers for 'The Time I Picked Up Dazai' under the cut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the book, we see just how much Oda begins to really care about Dazai, despite him initially being some shady kid that turned up half dead on his doorstep. He ties him up to his bed just so that he won't try and escape and kill himself, as he exclaims to Oda. Oda goes through so many measures to make sure Dazai doesn't kill himself. Three times. Three fucking times. The first time being Dazai crawling to the door to try and get out so that he can get out of Oda's way and die in peace. The second time, he literally fights Oda because he's trying to stab himself. Then, two seconds later, tries to kill himself with the kettle. Oda has to physically stop him. Oda has to fucking strangle him unconcious to get him to stop. Despite meeting him only three days prior, he cares about his wellbeing. Part of the reason is obviously that he doesn't want a dead kid on his hands, but the other part is that he's growing to care for Dazai. All throughout this little book, we see little glimpses of Oda's genuine concern for Dazai. Obviously at first, he was debating just leaving him on the doorstep, because it wasn't really his issue. Yet, he still drags Dazai back to the bed and ties him up when he tries crawling out the house. In the Dark Era, we see him (in the alley scene) tell Dazai to stop talking after he almost gets shot, because he knows that he's just chatting shit. However, in the book (holy shit, it made me cry when I read it) this happens instead;

The way he described Dazai at the end of this scene kind of broke me. "That of a child about to burst into tears." Now, I don't know whether he meant that Dazai was so happy to finally just, you know, die, or that Dazai was just a troubled child. Both, I think. Odasaku sees Dazai as a child, just a child, and the fact that he wants to die so bad and has such a warped perception of the world genuinely hurts Odasaku. He doesn't want to see Dazai like that; it upsets him. He's genuinely angry at what Dazai did, much like how a father would be angry. He can't stand when Dazai's like this because it breaks his heart. Despite Ango scolding him for letting Dazai speak like that, as he will just start going more off the rails, Oda does tell Dazai not to be like that, and is concerned when he is and when he's serious about it, as opposed to him being whimsical about it in the bar. Ango and Odasaku are like father/brother figures to Dazai, they're fond of him and care about him deeply. Which is why it hurts Dazai so much when it starts falling apart. Bungou Stray Dogs fucking breaks me, because in the scene (I haven't finished The Dark Era LN yet, I'm sorry-) in the anime where Dazai is talking about how everything he loves or wants always leaves in the end whenever he obtains them. And so, when Odasaku died, despite how much Dazai prepared for the things he loves to be lost, he couldn't prepare for it at all. And when he finally loses it, he's lost the final stable thing in his life. His attempt at wanting to live had left. His friendship with Oda and Ango was stained with Ango's betrayal. His life in the Port Mafia became dull and depressing. His attempt at trying to live failed. And his best friend died in his fucking arms.

Then Atushi comes in, and reminds him of all he's lost, yet also all he wants to save and achieve. He raises Atushi, because that's what Oda would have wanted. He raises him because it's the right thing to do, and he wants to be there for him. But he doesn't expect Atsushi to begin to actually hold a deep fondness of him. Dazai, as we all know, cannot handle compliments or being cared for, because it's something so rare and foreign to him. So, even though it's supposed to be funny and nice, BSD Wan really hits fucking hard with this one. He doesn't realise that anyone actually cares for him; evil expects evil from others, as he said. Dazai is constantly on guard, cautious and reserved and shielded. He doesn't want to be hurt again. And so, when Atsushi says shit like this, it catches him off guard, but he can't let that show. He can't let anyone see him vulnerable, because everybody has an ulterior motive. He's going to be used for something.

Sound familiar?

SIGMA.

I know, jumpscare, right?

Bet you weren't expecting me to fucking jump to him.

But, I think that's why Dazai actually cares for Sigma in the little time he's come to know him. "I see. So that's how it is." He says after we see Sigma's internal monologue. Not going to lie, I think Dazai sees a bit of himself in Sigma and is trying to save him from that, and show him that not everyone tries to use him, and that he's safe with him and the ADA, which fucking works when Fyodor tries to manipulate him and Sigma pulls out a fucking UNO reverse card on him, and stands his ground, because he won't be used anymore. Dazai has never been able to confront Mori properly about anything, and so if he can let someone else feel what he wishes he could, then that would make him happy. Plus, Sigma's technically an orphan lol.

Another thing of importance to note is

Okay sorry I've been sat here for about five minutes trying to remember and I can't FUCK.

Anyways, the care from Atsushi that Dazai gets is foreign to him. He doesn't know how to respond, so he just doesn't respond at all. Because it hurts too much, and reminds him of Oda.

I THINK I REMEMBERED BUT I DON'T KNOW IF THIS WAS IT.

Anyways, despite it being what I thought of or not, it's a key point to make. When Atsushi's orphanage Director passes away, and he doesn't know how to feel, it's Dazai there to help him through it as he faces the loss of a "loved" one. He doesn't know how to feel about the Director's death. He was someone who raised him, someone who was always there. Except, the Director was a sick, twisted and cruel man, despite him only trying to prepare Atsushi from the worst and save him from what he went through himself and what Atsushi's parents did to him. Clearly not the correct way to raise a kid. However, Dazai tells him "When someone's father dies, they tend to cry." Dazai; emotionless, inhuman and uncaring. This is how Chuuya sees him in his Port Mafia days. This is how everyone saw him; someone to be feared for his lack of humanity and twisted way of dealing with things, his warped perceptions of the universe. Yet, when Odasaku dies, it's the only time we see Dazai crying, and it's the most upset or nervous or emotional we've seen him; the guy's a fucking wreck. This just broke me when he said that, not just because poor fucking Atsushi, but also because Oda was a father figure to Dazai. The only time we have seen him cry was of course Oda. And when he says that to Atsushi, my heart breaks. Literally crumbles. This series is actually god awful, I hate it.

In conclusion, Dazai obviously doesn't respond well to compliments or worries about his wellbeing, and Atsushi reminds him too much of Oda. Everything Atsushi is and does; Atsushi, who he's took under his wing as an orphan. Atsushi, who doesn't see the value or meaning in killing people. Atsushi, who asked Aku to be a mafia member who doesn't kill. Atsushi, who took in Kyouka, despite her flaws, and Dazai had to be there to explain that no matter what, she could be in the ADA, despite her kills, despite being an assassin, despite being in the PM. This shit hits hard for him, and I hate it so much.

Anyways, sorry for this long ass rant but it just kills me how nobody actually thinks to look deeper into Dazai's suicidal tendencies, as he's clearly not okay. Atsushi and Oda are the only one's who have ever thought to pursue it, and actively stop him from thinking like that.

I hope you're all having a lovely day/night! <3

[mrs-pondwater19]

Some Alone Time

Shinjiro Aragaki x AFAB Reader SMUT

Hello my lovelies, this story is pretty simple as far as plot goes, this takes place during the time you spend with Shinjiro when you max out his social link in the game Persona 3 Portable *I've never played P3P so if I get some things wrong plot wise I'm sorry*. There will be direct dialogue from the game for the romance scene. The reader is afab, so fem anatomy *I'm not good for writing much else and I'm sorry* All participants are aged up for the sake of the story. This is a smutty one so minors please walk away. This story was requested by the lovely @nutmeg030. I hope you enjoy my dear.

WARNINGS: 18+, Minors DNI, SPOILERS, friends to lovers, established relationship right before smut, no real plot just porn lol, slight angst, domination, hickeys/markings, soft foreplay, fondling, clothed genital stimulation, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, p in v, Shinjiro trying to be gentle but fails and is a rough boi, rough sex, praise, cum on body, cute cuddly shit.

When you walked into the lounge, it was particularly empty that night, it was you and few other students lingering around from what you could see. The atmosphere was dull, deary, and damned near boring. The few students that were there were either reading their texts books or conversing over a light meal from the kitchen. Some of them being friends from your group hanging out after the long day. You gave them a little wave as you passed by, making your way towards the back.

Most of the other students headed back to their rooms earlier that night, by the time nine o'clock rolled around. Either to get some studying in or pass out after a day of long, grueling classes. And by the time ten thirty would roll around the dormitory would be dead and silent, like a ghost town.

But not you, that was usually the time you'd meet up with a dear friend from your group, Shinjiro. You didn't really get to see him much during the day other than when you'd attend classes or battle against shadows with him and the rest of your group. That time of night was when you'd actually get to spend time with him, to learn about his personality and his interests outside of all formalities of the group. He seemed cold and gruff when you two first started hanging out, often just wanting to be left alone and attempting to push you away. But over time he began to gradually open up and you had grown incredibly fond of the mysterious, dark haired man. Learning about his traumatic history involving some of the others students, all his interests, and his funny little quirks as well as his personality made you feel something you've never really experienced with anyone else.

You adored all of your friends immensely, there wasn't any doubt about that, but with Shinjiro it was something a little different, something a little deeper. Having broken down his tough, gruff exterior and revealing all his darkest secrets to you, good and bad, it made you feel very special. It made you feel like you two could share anything and everything with each other. And it seemed the bond you two had created was at a point where it couldn't be taken to the next level. Which, with any luck, was what you were hoping to achieve later into the evening.

As you walked on, you saw Shinjiro leaning up against the wall, hands him his pockets, thinking quietly to himself. As you approached him your heart began to beat faster from the nervousness and excitement flowing through your body. His gaze met yours momentarily, eyes widen for a split second before looking away, going back into his thoughts.

"Hey Shinjiro" you said sweetly as you stood beside him, mimicking his current stance.

"Shouldn't you be with the others," he asked very curtly. He shifted around slightly, arms crossing over his chest.

"I can't give you anything or do anything for you." His eyes avoided yours as you felt a slight ping again your chest at his cold response. But you wouldn't let that deter you,

"I want to be with you Shinji," you replied very calmly. His head turned in your direction, looking at you as he raised an eyebrow to your statement. Looking away from you once more with confliction spread across his face, he shifted again before motioning you to go over to the bar with him. Both of you making your way over, the lounge now almost completely empty, you stood adjacent from Shinjiro. You like looked up at him, your loving gaze settling on his gruff features as you tried to find the courage and the right words to express your feelings. He looked down at you, his expression never faltering as he said,

"You can stare at me like that all day. I got nothing for you." The look in your eyes never wavering, knowing he was just saying all these things to try and keep you at a safe distance.

"Haven't you wasted enough time on me? What more do you want?"

This was it, this was finally your chance to tell him how you really, truly felt about him. There wasn't anymore friendly bonding beyond this point, and the both of you knew it . You took a deep breath and looked at him, his steel grey eyes looking at you with blankly, soft undertones drowning somewhere deep within them. You smiled kindly at him as your heart began to beat faster, to the point you thought it would beat right out of your chest from the anxiousness, but you knew this was the perfect, and maybe the only time, to confess.

"I love you Shinjiro," you said with warmth and confidence. You thought for sure you'd slip up, have the words get caught in your throat, or stutter over yourself and pull away from what you wanted to say. But you didn't, it flowed from you so perfectly, better than you had ever expected it to. His stoic expression dropped from his face as soon as those words fell from your lips, his eyes wide and face flushed,

"Huh?...D-don't tease me like that!" He said in embarrassment, thinking you weren't being serious with him.

"I'm not teasing you," you said very seriously, making it very clear that you weren't joking. He grumbled to himself, realizing you weren't messing around with him. Looking away from you for a moment, a painful strain forming in his eyes. He turned his gaze back towards you, his stoic expression coming back as he rebutted,

"I mean, why just blurt out something like that? Here, of all places..." He was steadfast in not giving you a reaction from your confession, not right away anyways. Taking a moment to find a response you thought you yourself. Then an idea popped into your head, if this wasn't the place for you to express your feelings, why not one of your rooms? Feeling bold, probably from the adrenaline of your confession, you blurted out,

"Won't you come to my room?"

"I-I can't do that. I mean you're... Well, people are gonna get the wrong idea." Though he stuttered over his words, his stoicness never faltered. But it didn't stop you either, you wanted to get him alone, to show him that you were one hundred percent serious about these feelings for him. You jokingly replied to him,

"That just leaves your room, then." A dusting of pink littered his face as he continued to stutter,

"Y-you moron. I... I ain't a nice guy Y/N. I can't let you in my room. Don't you get it?" You didn't believe him. Not for a second did you believe that he wasn't a nice guy or a bad person. You knew deep down who he was, and he was good, kind, and just.

"I know what I'm saying Shinjiro." He shifted his head to the side as he put his guard up, not wanting to let you break him down as he narrowed his eyes at you,

"No way. It's not gonna happen," he said coldly. He took a moment to realize how his tone was and switched to a slightly softer one, but still contempt laced his voice,

"Look, you need to watch yourself. Don't bother with someone like me." Ignoring his remarks, you stepped closer to him, running your fingers lightly over the burgundy fabric of his jacket.

"I still love you Shinji." Turning his head back to you, he sighed in frustration,

"Idiot..."

After constantly persisting, pestering, and making excuses to him as to why you two should sneak away, he took your hand off his coat and led you way from the lounge and to his dorm room.

...

When you entered his room, you took in the emptiness of it. The four burnt beige colored walls, his work desk, and a bed. Part of you felt a stale sadness for him as you observed your surroundings. Seeing the other rooms of your friends was seeing how they expressed themselves and their interests taking a sort of physical form. While with Shinjiro's, it felt very sad and empty, like he couldn't express himself or his interests to the world. But that would be a conversation for another time.

You walked over to the desk and leaned against it as you ooked in his direction, his steel eyes boring into your form with a sour look lingering on his face,

"...So? Happy now? You're always pushing me around all the time... You're just gonna ignore what I want, huh?" He asked rhetorically, grumbling to himself once again before speaking, his tone becoming a bit snarky and confident,

"Yeah, well two can play that game." He walked over to you hesitantly, his face softened as he extended his arms out and embraced you. You were slightly taken back by his actions, considering the entire night he was trying to keep you at a distance, but you took this as your opportunity to see his more intimate side. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, burying your face into his course jacket. His scent was a light earthy mix of sandalwood, birch, and musk. You couldn't help but feel yourself drowning in it, feeling a sense of security washing over you as you tightened the embrace. You felt yourself slowly losing yourself more and more in him when he whispered,

"This is your fault, you know. I'm all confused. You're all I can think about, day and night."

The tension between the two of you was noticable before when you two were together. But in that moment it was thick, palpable, and almost unbearably painful. His tall, liber form towering over your smaller one showed how he had a sense of control and power over you. The way his arms tightly wrapped around your waist and how his fingers lightly touched your back was like a man starved of touch. How he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath heavy against your skin like was trying to hold himself back from ravaging you. The seeing him like this was intoxicating, and you craved more of it, you craved his touch and wanting to reciprocate them. But before anything could progress he let out a breath of frustration before continuing

"Dammit, this isn't how it's supposed to be..." He let go of you abruptly, still not fully willing to submit to his feelings. You fell back onto the desk for support, trying to come back to reality after be captivated and entranced from Shinjiro's touch. He looked at you with his eyes narrowed once again,

"You get it right?" You looked at him still slightly dazed and confused at his question. Though his expression didn't change, his eyes were no longer cold and stoic like before. Lust began pooling in his steel orb as he slightly backed away to keep a bit of distance between the two of you, afraid he might do something he'd regret,

"Go back to your room. If you don't go now you're not gonna get another chance."

Deep down he really didn't want you to leave, but he didn't want to put you in a situation where you felt uncomfortable or trapped. He thought it was only fair that he should give you the opportunity to leave while you still could if you wanted to. Taking a few cautious steps towards him you spoke softly,

"I'm not going anywhere." He sighed and shook his head, a slight smirk formed on his face as he glanced at the floor then back to you.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that," he chuckled to himself before signing once more. He took a step closer to you, placing his hands on your shoulders as his eyes darted to the side,

"I'm gonna make myself clear," his eyes swiftly moving back to yours with a stern expression. Looking into them you could see they were dark, drowning in lust and need. His hands began to run down your arms to the sides of your waist as he moved in closer to you. The space between growing smaller and smaller as he spoke,

"...I ain't holding back anymore." With that somewhat hesitated statement he closed the space between you with a passionate, yet needy, kiss. The fabric of his beanie brushed up against your forehead, the softness of his lips, and feeling the little bit of stubble from his chin against your skin exhilarated your senses. You snaked your arms up and around his neck to deepen the kiss, losing yourself to him once again. His hands gripped harshly at your sides, trying to keep himself somewhat grounded in the moment, never wanting it to end. The kiss began to get more heated as he guided you to his bed, slowly lowering you down onto the firm mattress. His hands moved down to your hips with hesitation, not wanting to hurt you or rush himself. Your hands ran up the back of his neck and pulled off his dark grey beanie, freeing his messy umber locks.

He nipped gently at your lower lips, causing you to slightly gasp. His tongue slipped into your mouth, causing you to moan involuntarily at his actions. He chuckled slightly to himself as he began to explore your mouth gingerly. You did your best to hold in your moans as the two wet muscles collided together. His hands pinning yours down at your sides as gently as he could while attacking the inside of your mouth with pleasure.

He pulled away for a breath, leaving a string of salvia connecting the two of you. Both of you took heavy, deep breaths as he crawled away to let you look at each another. Shinjiro's face a deep crimson red, his lips swollen, and his chest heaving, he was absolutely breathtaking. While taking in the sight of him, his eyes scanned your form, your uniform ruffled, hair falling out of its ponytail, and eyes glossy with wanton. Your hands crept up to the collar of his jacket and slowly began to unbutton down his limber frame. His breath hitched in his throat as you revealed his thin, black undershirt and letting his thick, heavy jacket slip down his arms before removing it completely. Your fingers began to creep up his shirt before he grabbed your forearms abruptly, it wasn't enough to hurt you, but enough to catch you off guard.

"What's the matter," you asked in a breath whisper. He avoided your gaze when he spoke in a low, gravel like tone,

"I-It's just, I-I've," he stumbled over his words and couldn't seem to manage to get the words out. You tenderly touched his face in reassurance,

"It's alright Shinjiro," you stated before pulling him into a loving embrace. His body tensed even more under your soft touch and you could see him grit his teeth in frustration before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

He gently took your hands into his, intertwining them as he pushed you back on into the mattress. His tall frame hovered over you as his lips lightly brushed against your neck, causing shivers to run throughout your body. You arched your back to bring yourself closer to him, pressing your body into his as his lips latched on to your neck. You knew that once morning came your neck and chest would be a painted canvas of blues and purples. Gasps and hushed moans escaped you as he began to fully remove the upper half of your uniform, leaving you with just a bra. Your skin began to flush at the vulnerability you were in, pinned under the man you just confessed to as he continued to litter your skin with no remorse. His free hand moved to the clip of your bra as he looked at you lustfully for permission, you nodded, giving him the 'go ahead' grin. He unclipped it in one swift movement, letting the straps fall down the length of your arms as he helped you take it off.

His eyes wandered to your now bare chest, a cocky grin forming on his face as he began to creep his hands towards your breasts. He gave your chest a firm squeeze, he shuddered at the feeling of the warm, plush like mound in his palms, watching you squirm under him. Your nipples hardened as he massaged your breasts with eagerness, watching your every movement. He let go of your other hand and took your hardened buds between his fingers before lightly tweaking them, earning a high pitched moan from you.

You squirmed vigorously under him while he worked his magic of your chest to the point where they felt raw and overstimulated. The way his hands caressed the hot, supple skin of your breasts made it almost impossible to wait any longer for him to take you right then and there. He grunted in arousal as he looked down at your painfully overstimulated form,

"God your tits are fucking perfect," he groaned out, strain and hesitation laced somewhere in his voice. His hands began to wander down your sides, fingers delicately ghosting over your soft skin to your skirt. His hand ruffled up the fabric, revealing your lacy underwear,

"Naughty girl," he whispered seductively as he brought his hand further down to your inner thigh, dangerously to your pulsating core. His slender fingers ran over the embroidered fabric right over your pooling heat, letting a moan slip from you as he began to gently rub against your clit. His free hand moved up to your face, looking you dead in the eyes as you began to unravel under him. Moans and squeals escaped you as his fingers continued to work slowly on your folds. The nerves overly sensitive from the stimulation drove you up the wall, the look in his eyes didn't help it either. His body tensed as his movements grew at a steady pace, his name falling off your lips as ecstacy overtook you completely.

"Shinji, more, please," you moaned out, feeling his fingers harshly pressed up again your pussy, the fabric pressing into the wet, hot flesh.

"You're doing well for me Y/N, fuck," he let out a breathy sigh as his hand harshly moved against you. You looked down to see his painfully hard member poking through his trousers. The sight of him hard for you made you even more wet for him, so much so that your underwear were soaked completely. The sound of his fingers squelching against the soaked fabric and your moans filled the room as you felt a coil building up in the pit of your stomach,

"Shinjiro, I-I," before you could finish your sentence he pulled away, his finger glistening in your slick. He brought his fingers to his lips as licked them clean,

"You taste amazing," he moaned out to you. You groaned in disappointment, wanting to feel some kind of relief from his actions. He propped himself up on his knees and hastily removed his shirt, revealing his toned, lean torso. Your eyes widened as he continued to strip down to his boxers, the sight of his messy hair, flushed skin, and lustful gaze made you squirmed in anticipation.

"You liking what you see sweetheart," he taunted. His hands teasingly played with the hem of his boxers, emphasizing his painfully pleasured state as he slowly pulled them down over his thighs, his cock springing free from the confines of the thin fabric. It was flushed a deep crimson, the veins protruding throughout his length, and a bit of precum dribbling from the tip. His breath was shallow as he crawled over to you like a rabid animal, his self control dwindling faster than you could react to it,

"I can't wait anymore," he grumbled out.

"I want to feel that perfect puss wrapped around me. I want to feel you writhing beneath me while I fuck you senseless. I want to feel how perfect you really truly are," he whimpered out to you.

He forcefully spread your legs and pulled off your underwear, leaving you in your ruffled up skirt, open and vulnerable under him. His grumbles and groans were feral like as he gave his cock a few pumps before bringing his lips to your ear,

"You ready babygirl," his breath ragged and needy. You nodded,

"Yes Shinji, please," you pleaded.

That's all he needed to hear before lining himself up at your entrance and slowly thrusting into you. A relief filled moan poured off your tongue and into the space of his room as his cock stretched your walls. He let a hesitant groan out, just above a whisper he cursed,

"Fuck," it was long and drawn out as he began to move. He was gentle with each thrust he drew in and out of you. His hand gently gripped at your wrists, pinning them above your head to get a full view of what was beneath him.

Your face red, eyes squeezed shut, and contorted in pleasure as you swallowed his cock as he slowly pounded into you. It felt amazing, the way he stretched you out, the way his breath felt against your neck, and especially how his touch was so sweet and gentle. But there was something he was holding back, you could feel it in your gut. Something about the way he held you felt strained, it was similar to the way he gripped your wrists earlier, strained and a bit unorthodox, like he wasn't entirely sure of himself. You opened your eyes to look up at him, a few locks of hair falling in his face, his mouth slightly agape, and eyes completely dark and drunk off of thr lust coursing through his body.

"Fuck Shinji," you squealed out, feeling his grip on your wrists tighten harshly and his pace quicken, not realizing how he reacted to your sinful response. You moaned out in surprise at the sudden change in his demeanor, getting a glimpse of what he was holding back from you. His gripped tightened even more and his thrust became more aggressive, causing your moans and squeals to become more high pitched and abrupt. He was so completely lost in his arousal and need for you his aggressive side began to truly shows itself, in that moment he showed you what he really wanted to do to you, how he wanted to please you as well as himself.

"Fuck," you semi screamed out to him. After hearing you, he caught himself and began to slow his pace. His grip on your wrist loosened as he spoke,

"Fuck Y/N, I'm sorry, I got a little carried away. I didn't hurt you did I?" His tone was sweet and genuine as he looked into your eyes with remorse. You smiled to him and kissed his cheek,

"No Shinji, if I'm being honest, I kinda liked what you were doing before. Please, please don't stop," you moaned sweetly to him as your hands wandered to his back. Surprise fell on his face for a moment, but was taken over by a lustful grin as he snapped his hips harshly against yours.

"If that's what you want, then I'll give it to you." You squealed in response to his roughness and pleasure began to course through you once again. His pace was rough and a bit sporadic as loud, needy groans filled the room. You continued to squeal and moan for him and he roughly held your wrist down into the pillow above your head,

"Yes Shinji, fuck, feels so good," you panted out, slowly getting drunk off the feeling of his cock destroying your overstimulated pussy. You felt the coil building up in your stomach again as his pace picked up even more than before and his grip was as firm as ever,

"You look so pretty like this. Shaking and and crying out for me," he gritted in-between his teeth. His grunts and groans began to fall out in ragged, needy whimpers. He was losing himself to the feeling of you squeezed around him, his cock sliding in and out of you effortlessly. You were completely gone at that point, drunk off him and everything he was doing to you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, saliva dribbling down your chin, and your body limp for him to use however he saw fit.

Although he would never actually hurt you, sure he was a bit aggressive in thr moment, hut if he were to cause you any harm whatsoever he wouldn't ever forgive himself for it. It was just about his pleasure, it was for the both of you, he wanted to make you to feel good. Looking into your eyes, he saw how you had come completely undone for him,

"You're so beautiful baby, so perfect for me," he mumbled out. He wasn't going to last much longer in that state. His cock now thrusting unforgivingly in and out of you, drowning in your slick. The grip on your wrists never faltered, you knew there'd be lovely little marks from them in the morning. The coil in your stomach grew with each passing second and each thrust it threaded to break,

"Shinji please, I'm not gonna last any longer," you begged him. He knew what you was asking for, but he wasn't ready for her to finish yet, he wanted to finish with you. He moved his hands away from your wrists and gently cupped your kissing your forward tenderly, despite his rough, animalistic like motions.

"Please baby, just a little longer, can you wait just little longer for me," the pleads dripped off and out of him like amber. You gave him a half nod, you were coherent enough to hear his request, but whether you could follow through or not would be a challenge.

He kissed you passionately, both your lips pink and swollen as he pulled away for air. You didn't understand stand how it was possible, but he somehow managed to go even faster and harder than before. The sounds of moaning, whimpers, squeals, and the slapping of skin filled the room. You were sure other students heard you, but you didn't care, all you cared about in that moment was him, Shinjiro, claiming you as his own, and him as yours.

You could tell he was almost there, edging himself closer to his climax as he gaze was set on you. You were a mess, your hair come completely undone from its ribbon, sweat lightly coated your brow, and your skin a rosy, peony pink. Not to mention the slick that shamelessly covered your thighs and milked his cock, want to give him his sweet release. Your hands crept to his back and you dug your nails into his skin,

"Yes fuck. Oh God, Shinjiro, yes just like that," you whimpered under him. He was hitting a spit that made you absolutely cry and scream for him. You couldn't hold yourself from cumming anymore, not after finding that special little spot.

"I'm gonna cum Shinjiro," you cried, tears spilling from your eyes as you felt the rush approaching you, like waves over a rocky shore.

"Fuck, cum with me baby," he grunted out as he felt you spasm around his cock before pulling out of you, spurting white, thick ropes on to your stomach. He let out a few relieved moans as he finished, pumping out what little cum he had left in him. Both of you took a few moments to catch your breath, coming down from your high you looked at him lovingly, even in his disheveled state, he was really was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, looking at you with admiration. Your stomach covered in his cum, drool covered your chin, and exhaustion settling in over your body. He stood up from the bed and went over to his desk, pulling open a drawer and grabbing a few tissues to clean him and yourself with.

After you were both clean, he put his beanie back on and got you in one of his T-shirts before cuddling up to you in his bed. He wrapped his arms around you tightly while you gently laid on his chest, playing with a few strands of his hair. He smiled to himself while looking down at you, sleep threatening to captivate you as he spoke,

"...If this is how things are gonna between us, I think I might stick around for a while," his tone was a bit monotoned, but he meant what he said. He kissed your forehead gently before speaking again,

"I love you." You almost didn't hear him from your tired condition, but thankfully you heard him well enough to respond,

"I love you too Shinjiro, I always have. And I always will," you said sleepily as you continued to play with his hair until your felt yourself drift to sleep. He chuckled to himself quietly, feeling that he wasn't too far behind you,

"I'm holding you to that." With those few words he fell asleep with you in his arms.

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

I see your tags on the Wocky and Alita art, I would love to hear your thoughts on Alita actually!

I only need one person to show interest in what I have to say for me to talk forever and ever, thank you. HAHA Okay, in seriousness, this won't be as thorough/long as the Klavier post because... there really isn't much to her, but I find it extremely interesting how Alita falls into the same category of witnesses as April May and Dahlia without being — and I mean no offence to her when I say this — stunning? Like, with April and Dahlia, there's a very clear mass appeal to them which most people point out. Contrariwise, Alita's appearance is really only commented on by Trucy, and just glancing at her portrait, you can see that, without her slightly outlandish fashion, she's frankly nothing to write home about.

So why am I discussing this? Surely it's a little reductive to analyse female characters beginning with their appearances? Usually, yes, but that's the thing about this category of witnesses: their pretty faces aren't just pretty faces.

For April and Dahlia, their beauty is part of their arsenal. It functions as both their defence and their weapon of choice; they know how to wield it to bring people under their heel. Alita being ordinarily pretty instead of drop-dead gorgeous deprives her of that weapon and leads you to wonder how she became a mafia heiress to begin with. It also parallels her to Mimi Miney in a way that goes beyond the 'murderous nurse who worked for and killed her awful boss' comparison you get on the surface. Presumably, Alita, like Mimi, only got to where she was because she managed to fool the people around her into believing she was less dangerous than she actually is. Mimi did this by feigning stupidity and inviting people to underestimate her. Alita seems to do this by showing them what they want to see.

When she first meets Apollo and Trucy, Alita stays quiet and spends more time listening to them than she does talking. Once she has a hold on who they are, then she slips into her persona, and I find it interesting how she doesn't even attempt to come across as particularly delicate or lovelorn? Instead she goes for the relatively typical role of a distressed, indulgent loved one earnestly entreating Apollo for help. I'm inclined to say she does this because her read on Apollo makes her realise that he'd likely be exasperated or annoyed by such a person; but it's also almost as if she knows she doesn't have the disposition to pull off that frail, damsel-in-distress archetype and has resigned herself to being ordinary. Like how she looks. The next time she has to reapply her persona, Alita's appearing in court, and again she makes subtle adjustments that best suit her situation. The judge is old, so she takes a chance on expressing her dedication as a wife while balancing her dedication as a righteous citizen, which works. But oddly enough, despite her successes, I don't think Alita is actually good? At donning disguises? Everyone I've seen discuss this case has been able to guess almost immediately that she's the culprit, and maybe we're just prepped by past characters like her that have appeared, but I don't think she's even that convincing in the game.

Both the identities she assumes are risky manoeuvres that happen to fall in her favour, and she's not particularly dedicated to maintaining the front. When she asks Apollo to be Wocky's defence, she admits that marrying him is largely a chance at a more exciting life than some great love story; Plum Kitaki straight up says that there's a darkness in Alita she doesn't like, despite how docile Alita behaves in front of her; and Wocky has moments where he slips up and calls her things like, "imposter" and "fallen angel", implying that at least subconsciously, he knows she's not what she makes herself out to be. Even her general mannerisms don't greatly differ between her actual self and the mask who's blunt her claws — nothing is ever overtly coy or cutesy — and when Apollo brings up the fact she was Wocky's nurse, she drops the facade almost immediately. There's no waffling, no, "Whatever do you mean?"s or, "You're scaring me"s, just the statement, "I don't know what you mean by 'meaning', Mr. Justice!" delivered in a sudden cool, frosted steeliness.

And I think that steel is what really makes her different.

See, the other women are all driven to crime by some defining trait in themselves caused by their circumstances. For Dahlia, it's her desperate need to be free of the Fey clan; for Mimi, it's grief over her sister's unjust death; and for April, it's her fear of Redd White. You don't really get that with Alita. Instead of there being something dark in her life that leads her down this path, she just seems... tired. Tired of being "pretty enough" but not "gorgeous", tired of being the obedient nurse to the corrupt doctor, tired of being ordinary. There's no predatory external force pushing her into a corner, there's no abusive family beliefs pinning her down. There's just an ordinary life, lived dull and ordinarily, and she had had enough. So what does this girl, who's tired and ordinary in every way except the steel that lines her spine, do to get out of this?

She gambles.

Marrying into the mafia was a gamble, seeking Apollo as council was a gamble, shooting Dr. Meraktis was a gamble. Every decision she's made since she met Wocky has been a series of high-stakes gambles that leave her life on the line all so she won't be second-best anymore. This time, she was going to be the one on top. No matter what.

... And I'm sorry for loving evil women, but girlboss?? Girlboss???

I've heard people say they're disappointed that her "breakdown" is just an extension of her usual damage sprite, but it's honestly one of my favourite "breakdowns" in the series ever? Just because it isn't really one? Everything Alita has done up till now has been reckless, calculated risk, of course being convicted for murder is no different than losing in any other aspect of her life. Of course you're not going to get more than her damaged sprite, because this doesn't warrant a more dramatic reaction. She's lived this whole time knowing it could all come crashing down around her, and it finally did.

She made a bad bet. You caught her. Oh well.

The frosted girl of steel, standing tall to the very end. It's kind of sad that, even after all that, she's still seen as only second-best, incomparable to mimi, dahlia or any of the other women who've stood in her place.

[xxcatzladyxx]

Tamaki x Fem! Reader

Hello everyone! ❤️ I'm back with the cutie, Tamaki. Enjoy it! Do you want a second part? Let me know.

Have a good read!

Your Wolfi 🐺

~~~

"(y/n)..Is she with someone?" Tamaki asks to himself. Nejire, who is standing next to him, has heard every single word and answers his question.

"No, why?" her gaze darts to the boy next to her. "Aww..you like (y/n)!" she jumps up and down excitedly like a little kid at Christmas.

Tamaki's dark eyes take on the size of plates. He looks at Nejire. What has he done? Did he just say that out loud? Or has Nejire started reading minds? No, that's not her Quirk. Tamaki could smack himself. He spoke his thoughts out loud.

'You idiot, Tamaki,' he thinks. No one should know about his secret love for you. He hasn't even told his best friend Mirio and now it's just bursting out of him. Can't a black hole form underneath him and pull him into the infinite darkness? His nervousness is building up inside him. He would like to go home and never leave his room again in his life. God, that's embarrassing!

"Don't say anything! Please..Nejire, I don't think..-Oh God, she's coming towards us..." just as Tamaki has found his voice again, it always fades away too. The moment he sees you walking around the corner. You recognize him and Nejire immediately and head purposefully towards them. Tamaki doesn't know how to deal with the situation, so he does what he always does. He turns towards a wall to avoid your field of vision. At least that's what he thinks.

You giggle at his reaction on the way to the two of them. You think his shyness is just cute. The boy is pure sugar! You fell in love with him at first sight. Not only does he have a great character, you think. He's also incredibly handsome in your eyes. Especially his pointy ears! You would love to touch them. The dark side of you conjures up images in your head of Tamaki's reaction if you were to actually do it. No, evil, dark side! Off! Not now. I'd love to do it again tonight when you're in bed, but right now it's very inappropriate.

"Hello, you two! Nice to see you! How are you?" you greet the two of them. A big smile graces your lips. Tamaki looks at you from the side and his cheeks immediately turn red. You're driving him crazy!

"Hello, (y/n)! Nice to see you too! Isn't it, Tamaki?" she nudges the dark-haired boy with her elbow. He probably finds the wall more interesting than you. "We're both doing great, and you?" she asks you.

"I'm fine too, thanks for asking! I'm just a bit exhausted from training today," you answer her. You chat about God and the world, trying to get Tamaki involved. But that's as far as it goes. He keeps glancing at you from the side. Why did you have to steal his heart too? And why do you have to be such a pretty girl? You'll drive him crazy.

"Where's Mirio anyway?" you ask after an eternity. It's unusual not to find the blond with his best friend. Your question stabs Tamaki through the heart. Do you like Mirio? Do you love him? Or why the sudden question about him?

"Oh, he's been called to All Might," Nejire smiles cheerfully. "Ah..okay. I was wondering...Um...do you want to do something together after school?" your eyes fall on Tamaki. His head is still leaning against the wall. He's holding his tie tensely in his hand. When your eyes meet, he looks down.

"Unfortunately, I can't today. I still have a lot to do. I don't know about Mirio either. But our dear Tamaki has time. I know that!" Tamaki scowls at Nejire. It looks more like a child sulking at his mother because he didn't get his beloved sweet.

"I'm right, aren't I Tamaki?" she smiles at him with her eyes closed. "Y-yes..." he stammers. "Oh great. Shall we go to the park after school and get some ice cream? It's such nice weather today."

Nejire takes the word for the shy boy.

"Tamaki loves doing that! Then I'll see you two sweeties after school. Unfortunately, we have to go back to class now. Say goodbye to your sweetheart!" babbles the blue-haired girl. The school bell sounds at just the right moment. Before she can pull Tamaki after her, he gathers all his courage.

"T-then see you later at the school gate, (y-y/n). I..I'm looking forward to it!" he smiles at you uncertainly and his head resembles a tomato. "See you later, Tamaki! I'm looking forward to it too! Bye, you two!"

You part ways. Your heart is pounding in your throat. You feel incredibly happy and are looking forward to meeting Tamaki. Maybe you can confess your love to him there.

[ink-and-dagger]

Hii, idk is this a weird request but. Silcos s/o fainting.

SO I got the idea 15 minutes ago when I got up too quick and just bam, lights out. My first thoughts waking up on the floor was just 1. Wtf 2. Wouldn't it be hilarious if my fav villain was looking at me confused af rn.

So like. They've just been discussing something, maybe the s/o was sitting on his couch while Silco got some paperwork done and then like

Silco: dear, could you fetch me the last weeks reports from downstairs(or sumn)

S/o. Ye. *gets up and BAM*

YUH UH. LOVE YE BYE

It isn't a weird request at all, and even if it was I love being sent weird shit. I realise that this ask is nearly 3 months old but I hope you're okay💜

I've actually had this half written for a while, but realistically I can’t see myself finding anymore time to extend or finesse it, so I’m just gonna post it as is. It's short and pretty rough, but I hope you enjoy all the same!

Also I hope you don't mind but I've used Astrid as the reader because this is just very in-character for her🥲

Silco x Reader || Silco x Astrid || Fainting || Unedited drabble

The toes of your boots tap absently together high above you - perched as they are atop the back of the crimson chaise in Silco’s office. The rest of you sprawled in a diagonal swoon across the seat cushions.

“You’re doing it again,” Silco chides beneath his breath ­- a mockingly melodic baritone from his seat at his desk, eyes not lifting from the papers in front of him.

Your boots halt their tapping, and you drop your book page down upon your chest in a huff.

“Bored,” you complain.

“Yes, you’ve already mentioned,” he responds patiently, “Which is why I suggested some quiet reading.”

You pull a face and discard the book on the coffee table, “Can’t get into it. Feel restless.”

A lengthy exhale hisses from his nose, and his gaze ticks upwards to meet yours. Long, unimpressed face upside down in your vision from your position upon the sofa.

“If you’re feeling restless then you can make yourself useful,” his attention drops back to his work, and he gestures towards his bookshelves with a flick of his pen, “Fetch me the profit ledger for this quarter. Bottom shelf.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Now.”

You roll your eyes and swing your legs off the back of the sofa in a single dramatic swoop to spring to your—

“Sweetheart?”

The voice swims and warps at the edges of your mind. Loud and distant all at once. The surface beneath your spine is hard and coarse. Your vision remains obscured by a fluttering curtain of darkness which slowly recedes to the outer edges in swirling patterns of dappled red and chem-green.

A face above yours. Eyes that don’t match beneath dark, pinched brows. Mouth drawn tight and age lines deep with apprehension. Cute though.

Your mouth quirks into a dopey smile.

“Hey there handsome,” you trill.

Concern darkens to irritation, “I’ve told you not to lie upside down on the sofa like that. You’re as bad as Jinx. At least she has the excuse of adolescence.”

“S’comfy.”

“Be that as it may, you—don’t even think about it,” Silco growls, pressing firmly on your sternum to force you back down to the rug when you attempt to shift up onto your elbows.

“I’m fine Silco. Just stood up too fast is all.”

“And do you think repeating that mistake is the best course of action? Lay still.”

“Cluck cluck mother hen,” you grumble. But your complaint goes ignored. Silco shifts from his haunches to sit properly at your side, and his arm snakes beneath your knees to lift them, gathering them in a bundle up onto his shoulder.

“Not now Silco. Not in the mood.”

He offers you a slow, unimpressed blink, “It’s to help the blood flow back to your brain. I shouldn’t think it will take all that long to fill up again.”

You flip him the middle finger and his annoyance chips away just a crack, allowing through a tiniest of smirks.

[seenoversundown]

Sparrow Of the Dawn : Chapter 4

Sam Kiszka x Willa (Female OC) Warnings: Teasing (in the making fun of each other way), dark humor, subtle pining, cursing, mentions of drinking/alcohol, and a lot of clumsy girl behavior.

Word Count: 7.6k

Summary : Sam unfortunately finds himself in not so meet cute with Willa. Hopeful that he doesn't cross her path again; the world works in mysterious ways and not always in your favor.

Author's Note: Just wanted to take a second to leave some resources in regards to learning about and assisting those affected by the genocide in Palestine. There aren’t words strong enough to convey how devastating the loss is. I will leave a few resources I have found linked and always remember that we’re not free until Palestine is free. #Ceasefire #FreePalestine 🇵🇸

• Six Ways To Help

• Carrd Full of helpful Links and Resources

• Daily Click!

Gives You Hell - All American Rejects “When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, gives you hell.”

I feel like I could fight God when my alarm clock goes off in the morning and my first thought is that I'll have to see Sam all day. Oh, great ruler of the Cosmos, please grant me the strength to get through this day. So mote it be. 

 I slither out of bed like the morning gremlin I am, pull on my robe, and head out to the kitchen, where I know Quinn is already waiting. 

Quinn and I developed this cute morning routine back in college, where we met. We attended SCAD together and were lucky enough that we got along so well, both being art majors. Them in Art History and me in Photography. We used to cross the campus early enough to beat the lines, almost regretfully. We’re not exactly the greatest of morning people. I’d get the drinks, though, and they get the food. Only back then, it was just them assembling the breakfast sandwiches in the cafeteria while I tried to make the instant coffee drinkable. These days, it’s homemade lattes and skillfully grilled sandwiches. A vast improvement from our younger days. 

“Good morning, Willard,” They beam at me through heavily hooded eyes, already pulling out a pan.

“Morning,” comes out of my mouth in a choppy groan.

“Breakfast sammies?” They wiggle the pan a little. 

“Don’t!” I hold up my finger, “That is a banned word in this house.” I sit down on one of the stools at our island and place my head in my hands. 

“Breakfast?” they inquire. 

“No, Sammy.”

“Okayyyy.. Do you want a breakfast ‘he-who-shall-not-be-named?” they let out a chuckle. 

“HA HA, very funny,” I roll my eyes, “- but yes, please.” 

I make my way to the espresso machine, grabbing the portafilter and grinding up some fresh beans. I tamp down the grinds and place them back in their rightful spot before pressing the button to queue up the process. Repeating for Quinn’s second shot. Quinn is the complete opposite of basic in every aspect except their coffee order. A Vanilla Oat Milk latte, every time. I make it with extra love because that’s how it should be made. I quickly move on to my latte, only slightly adjacent to basic with toasted marshmallow flavoring instead. 

Finishing at roughly the same time we trade specialties and they say “Okay, all wrapped and ready to go when you are.”

“No, I have the time to sit and eat with you Quinny the Pooh, so that’s what I’m going to do.” I smile and make my way to the island in our kitchen. I prop up on my same stool and unwrap my sandwich. God, this looks good. If they weren’t an art teacher, they could hack it as a chef. 

Taking the first bite and rolling my eyes in the back of my head, “Good GOD, Quinn, you have outdone yourself again.”

“Thank you, Thank you. So tell me, how prepared are you to see Childish Sambino today?”

The glare I send them over my sandwich is deadly. “Do you have to talk about him?”

“We could talk about his mouth instead,” sending me a sideways glance. 

“Oh, would you look at that,” I glance down at my bare wrist as if it contained the most interesting watch. “I’m actually running late. I need to get ready for work.” I set my sandwich back down on the paper and rewrap it to take it to go. 

“Have a good day. Make good choices because we just paid rent and I don’t have bail money,” They laugh maniacally. I send them a snarky glare back before shutting my bedroom door behind me. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

When I make it to the Portland Press Herald office, I open the door, and I’m greeted with the sweet face of an older woman working the desk. Thank god it’s not another Daisy. I’d rather jump off the building than have to watch Sam flirt with another girl all day. 

She leads me through the hallways until we reach a set of cubicles in the back corner.

 “Alright, this one is yours,” She points to the closest cubicle. “And this one,” she points to the cubicle diagonally across from it. “Is Samuel’s. I’ll send him over when he gets here and you can point it out to him if he gets lost.” Well, at least I won’t have to look directly at him. 

I start unloading my belongings onto my new desk and trying to arrange them perfectly. When Sam makes his appearance, he rounds the corner looking so good it's painful. The slim, dark blue slacks on his legs just hit the tops of his black Chelsea boots. A mixed red and blue sweater makes home on his chest, don’t think about his chest, with a navy linen winter jacket over top. God, he looks good. Annoying. No man my age looks like that let alone knows how to actually dress themselves. 

When I come to my senses, he’s standing expectantly next to my desk. Looking at me like he’s waiting for my reply to a question I haven’t heard him ask. Not willing to give in and appear like I’ve just been thinking about how hot this man I hate is, I dodge. 

I point to the clock reading 7:58 am, “Cutting it a little close, huh, Sammy boy.”

“It might not have been so close if you were sitting here staring at me like I’m a piece of meat.” He chides. Internally, I cringe. Yep, I was definitely not subtle. “I had car troubles,” He mumbles in a low tone, “Can you just show me which desk I’m supposed to sit at.” I wave my arm over toward his desk, and he walks away to get settled in his own space. Far away from me.. Well, okay, it's not that far, but it's far enough for me. 

He’s in a monumentally bad mood this morning, and after a while the sighs of frustration he's letting out start to tick me off. Who breathes that loudly on a normal day? We’re stuck inside the building researching things until we have an event or idea to even photograph, which is bad enough without the sound of his mouth. I just hope we can get it together sooner rather than later. The faster we find a subject matter, the more time we have to capture it. I hear another loud sigh. 

“Could you be any louder, Sam? All I can hear is your huffing?” I stand to get him in my eyeline over the divider. Big mistake. He’s wearing glasses now? I didn’t know he wore glasses. It should be illegal, to be honest, for him to look that good. 

“I’m just existing, Willa. Sorry that my existence annoys you.” He pauses, “Actually, I’m not sorry at all. I take great pleasure in the fact that my mere presence sends you into a fit of rage.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a cocky smile. 

  Oh dear god, I definitely didn't prepare for this, this morning.

“This is not a fit of rage.” I sit back down calmly. Nope, not entertaining this today.

After a few minutes, it’s Sam’s turn to stand. If I lift my head, then I have to talk to him, so I stare at my computer screen where I’m currently researching different parks in the area. He clears his throat, and I don’t move. I will not be beckoned by his antics. He clears his throat louder this time. 

“Yes, Samuel.” I finally stop and clasp my hands together, annoyed.

“When did that cafe open up? The new down the road?”

“A couple months ago. Why? Are you going to buy me a coffee to make up for annoying me this morning?” A pleasantly sarcastic smile makes its way to my lips.

“HAH, you wish. No, I thought it could be something to check out for the project.”

“I would hardly call that cafe something that is notable about Maine. It just opened.” 

Clearly offended, he states, “Alright, let’s hear your big idea then?”

Sighing heavily, “I know I opened the dialogue here with you Sam, but I’ve suddenly realized that I am far too under-caffeinated to continue to be annoyed by you.”

“Well,” he laughs a little, adding fuel to the fire that is my irritation, “Aren’t you just a breath of vile air this morning.” he snarks.

“I might be more pleasant if your voice wasn’t so grating.” I shoot back. If tension were a physical entity in this moment, someone would be slicing it like a block of cheese being prepped for a charcuterie board. My stomach grumbles slightly. Oh, I am not going to let this man ruin charcuterie boards for me just because I am hangry. 

“Shhhh,” someone a few isles extends their distaste for our conversation. 

“See, look at what you’ve done.” 

“Oh, what I’ve done. I didn’t realize I was talking to myself here.” He defends.

I sit back down in a huff. I cannot believe I have to spend the next few days with this man. A fact that makes it very hard not to get increasingly frustrated by the task at hand. It's March, there’s not a whole lot going on in the city and instead of a partner who is easy to collaborate with, I'm stuck with him. 

Just as I get ready to do more digging, I get an email. 

Samuel F. Kiszka shared a document with you.

I wonder what the F stands for. I click the link. Compelled by my own nonsense, I sing in my head ‘Wheezy F baby and the F is for front door.’  

The document is titled ‘Ideas’ and a singular sentence is typed.

Since you can’t stand the sound of my voice and we can’t talk without getting heavily shushed by Susan B. NoseyPants, does this work?

Why is this simultaneously endearing and aggravating? Because yes, yes, it does work.

We take the time over what feels like a few hours bouncing ideas back and forth, and nothing seems to land with either of us. 

Sam: Museums, theaters, ect, ect we even have Funtown for the kids?

Me: You want to lead with Funtown? Palace Playland is better AND by the beach even? If you don’t believe in it, neither will the people at the newspaper.

Sam: I’m not even going to entertain that argument because Palace Playland is definitely NOT better. Have you ever been on the Excalibur?

We both stare at the document, watching the line blink on the screen when the banter is no longer fun. He stands suddenly. “I’m hungry.” He states plainly. “It's almost lunchtime.”

“Astute observation, Samuel. Should we promote you to Captain Obvious?”

“You’re actually the funniest person I’ve ever met, you know. No. I know a place, you and I are going to go get lunch.” He puts on his coat and grabs his bag walking over to my side of the desks. 

“We are? When did I agree to that?” skepticism heavy in my tone.

“Just now.” The manner in which he speaks matter-of-factly almost has me giving in instantly. Almost. “We need to get out of these little satanic cubes of torture and do some brainstorming. But we need brain food. I’m hungry. You’re hungry. We’re going, but you have to drive.”

“How do you know I’m hungry?”

“I’ve heard your stomach growling for over an hour.”

“Fine.” I concede. “But you’re paying.” I grab my heavy cardigan, slipping it on, and then grabbing my purse.

“That’s the spirit.” He says jovially, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I try not to think too hard about the grip he has on me as we make our way downstairs.

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The atmosphere of the restaurant he picked, “La Fromage”, is almost a bit uppity. How stuck up can you really be if you name your restaurant literally just ‘the cheese’. The lighting is low, even for the daytime, despite the two main windows in the front. The antique sconces create a nice, warm ambiance. It's a small room with bar seating and a few booths, which is where we take up residence right next to one of the windows. We’re tucked away in the corner but not too close to the front door. I slide into the booth against the wall while Sam takes the chair nearest to the walkway. 

“This place looks nice. I’ve never heard of it before. How’d you find it?” I’d be a fool to think he hasn't taken a girl here on a date before. He's young and attractive. A fact I would never admit out loud because it would just inflate his already massive ego. I’m sure he doesn’t have a problem dating, something I clearly can’t relate to. He did seem to hit it off with Daisy. I imagine this place in the evening; with the street lights coming in through the windows mixing with the amber lighting, it definitely sets a romantic tone. Much different than the tone of an afternoon in the middle of a work week. It would be lovely to come here on a date instead of a bar.

“They have a location in Boston, not far from where I went to school. I heard they opened a location up here not too long ago, but I haven’t come by yet. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.” He picks up the menu, giving it a once over before settling on the alcoholic portion. So he hasn’t been here on a date.. Yet. Ugh. Stop it. “You should get a glass of wine or something.” Not bothering to glance up at me. 

“I’m driving, Sam,” I state plainly. 

“If one glass of wine gets you drunk enough to not be able to drive you have other things to worry about,” he looks almost concerned for a moment before his face completely shifts. “Is that why you spilled your drink all over your date the other night?”

God, must I relive this? Why is he bringing it up? As if he has no idea it was his fault. “Sam, you snuck up behind me and scared me half to death. I jumped, it tipped. That’s it.” 

“If that’s your story.” The Cheshire cat smile painted on his lips looks almost good enough to smack. With my hand. Definitely my hand. 

I’m about to make a case for myself when the waiter approaches. 

“Afternoon, I’m Hunter. I'll be taking care of you today.” He looks over at me and winks. .. okay??? “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

Sam answers before my mouth even opens. “We’ll have two glasses of the 19 crimes red, please.” Why is he ordering for me? Hunter glances over at me like he’s trying to get a read on me. I realize then that my mouth is hung open slightly in disbelief. 

“Is that okay with you?” Hunter asks me. Sam scoffs. 

“Uh yes, yes, that’s fine.” I gain my composure and continue. “I’ll just also have a glass of water with no lemon, please. Thank you.” And with that, he turns and walks away. I don’t say anything. I just stare at Sam. He’s still gazing at his menu, brow furrowed a bit like he's mulling through his choices and can’t figure out what sounds good.

“19 crimes.” I chime. “Sounds devious. Did you commit all 19 by yourself? Or are you trying to drag me with you now?” 

He laughs. “You know you have to look at the menu in order to find something to eat, Willa.” The sound of my name on his tongue is jarring. Again, he’s not looking at me. I take his advice hastily grabbing my menu, peering at him over the top. There’s a smirk on his face. What is his deal? 

Hunter appears with our wine and my water with a lemon. Not wanting to create a fuss over a lemon I can very easily remove, I just say thank you when he sets it down on the oakwood table. 

“She asked for water without a lemon,” Sam’s face is serious; I sit there, horrified at the inconvenience to the waiter.  

“Oh, it's fine, really. Don’t-” he cuts my protest short, and I fidget, tucking my hair behind my ears.

“You asked for water with no lemon, Willa. This isn’t what you asked for.” Hunter takes the glass from his hand. When he turns and heads toward the kitchen, I whisper, “You didn’t have to do that, Sam. It’s not a big deal. Plus, that was kind of rude.”

“It’s not rude to expect to get what you asked for. You wanted water with no lemon, so you’ll get water with no lemon.” He says with finality. Why is that… attractive? I think he mistakes my stare as distaste for his commentary and quickly follows it up with, “If it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure to tip him well.” He shrugs a little.

I exhale heavily through my nose and change the subject, “What are you gonna get to eat?”

“The Gnocchi alla Sorrentini. What about you?”

“I was thinking of the Saffron Risotto aux Champignons. Have you tried it?” My mind drifts back to how many times he’s probably been to the other location and with whom. Wondering how many of these dishes he’s tried or if the menu is different there. How many glasses of wine he’s had or shared. 

“I have. It’s my favorite dish here. It’s very good,” When he flashes me a small, slightly lopsided smile, my heart squeezes in my chest. “I think you’ll like it.” 

We place our orders when Hunter comes back with my corrected water. He doesn’t make eye contact with Sam, but Sam looks directly at him when he tells him what he wants. There’s an obvious confidence about him that I like and something under the surface that feels almost like a challenge. Daring Hunter to look at him to know he has the upper hand on.. what, I can't figure out. Is this just some weird macho alpha male thing? I feel like one of them might start peeing on the floor to mark their territory in a minute. 

I tell Hunter my order and then switch my gaze to the window. Something I’ve always loved about Maine is the water. Across the street, back behind the sidewalk, is a relatively short dock. You can walk down it and see some of the boats lined up. There aren’t many since the area is narrow, but you can see out toward the river. Sometimes, you can see people in smaller fast boats; other times, it's the larger fishing boats. I once took a walk down that dock with an out-of-town friend of mine, and there was a lone man on his fishing boat throwing some lobsters back into the river. He offered to let us hold one for a photo which absolutely tickled my friend pink.

Hunter brings our food out and disappears without any other commentary. I’m not sure I could handle another moment of ‘big men puff out chest be intimidating’ behavior. I take a bite of the risotto, which tastes as good as it looks. God, I’m going to have to take Quinn here. They'd absolutely love it.

My thoughts are interrupted when a bird perched on the ledge just at the edge of the window catches my eye. And suddenly..

“Sam.” My eyes were fixated on the bird. He hums. “Do you .. hike?” Unsure if he’s an outdoorsy kind of guy, given how well he dresses himself.

“Yeah, all the time, why?”

“Maine is the pine tree state.” He sends me another mhm, not fully following my thought, “You know what one of my favorite things to shoot on hikes is?” I point toward the bird in the window, not giving him a chance to respond.

 “Nature. Literally, Maine is full of it. Like Acadia National Park? ‘Bah habah’” I say, mocking the more northern pronunciation of Bar Harbor. 

Finally, he reaches me at the mental finish line, “Nature! Birds, Trees, Parks, Woods.. No, you’re right? That’s what makes Maine, Maine.”

“Okay, but also beyond this little bird in the window, there’s the dock. Maine is incredibly coastal, lobsters and allathat. We could do both. Like the duality of the State. Woods and Water.” 

“Woods and water.” He repeats, taking a bite of his gnocchi. “Actually, you know what else could be a good idea? Old and New.”

“Old and new? What do you mean?”

“Digital and Print. I have a bunch of old film cameras. I kind of collect them,” a slight rosy tint covers his cheeks. “We could take an assortment of both digital and film photos and present both to the editors.”

“Sam, that's brilliant!” It takes us approximately three seconds to realize in my excitement, I’ve grabbed his hand that was laid on the table. We both pull away at the same time.

He clears his throat, “If you wanted, when we’re done, we could drive to my apartment, and we can take a look at the cameras I have and then figure out a plan.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” my meal suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to look at. 

After a small bit of silence, Hunter comes back with our checks. Yep, checks. Plural. Sam noticeably shifts in his seat. He is apparently incredibly put off by this, and he bites out, “Just one check will do, Heath.”

“It’s Hunter.” He corrects, unamused, as he grabs the checks.

“Sure.” is all Sam says. 

I laugh. I giggle, actually. Profusely. The situation at hand is far too entertaining to hold it in any longer. 

“What?” Sam grills me.

“Heath! You know his name is Hunter.” I try to cover my giggle with my hand. 

“I do, but I had to knock him down a peg. Assuming that I’d make you pay for your food?” he scoffs. 

“I am not breaking up a fight, so reel it in, buddy.” I shake my head.

 Hunter arrives with a corrected, singular check, sending us off with a ‘have a very pleasant day.’ Probably trying to play up a last-ditch effort of hospitality to ensure a decent tip still. Sam’s brow furrows as he looks over the check, he sets it down and runs his hand through his hair. No man should have hair that beautiful. My hair isn't even that beautiful. He starts to furiously pat himself down. 

“I.. think I left my wallet in the office.” Oh great. Wonderful. Annoys me all morning, cons me into driving, and now I have to pay. 

He winks at me, “Just kidding.” Tucking a few bills into the check holder and standing. What’s with everyone winking at me?

“Asshole.” I roll my eyes, grab my jacket, and slide out of the booth. As I stand, my foot catches on the leg of the table, and I slip. Sam rushes over to steady me upright back on my feet. 

“Wow, you really are a cheap date, huh?” he jests. I try not to think about that too hard. “You sure you’re okay to drive?”

“I’m fine. My foot got caught, okay? I am not drunk. It was one glass.”

“Sounds like something a drunk person would say.” His laugh is infectious, and I hate it. It's very hard to stay annoyed at someone who laughs like they’re high on edibles all the time. But not in a Beavis and Butthead kind of way, in a carefree kind of way.

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The drive to Sam’s apartment is short; he lives closer than he made it seem which makes it easy. What is not easy, however, is the fact that there's off-street parking. I end up parking my Silver Honda CRV down the road a little by a very creepy looking ally, and we make the short walk back to his apartment. He lives on the second floor, so we at least avoid being locked in an elevator again and just take the stairs. 

“Soo, I wasn’t expecting company, so don’t expect it to be too clean. And I should also warn you…”

“Warn me about what,” I say nervously. He opens the door in lieu of a response, and one of the largest dogs I’ve ever seen comes skidding across the floor. The dog jumps on Sam as he gently coos, “Woah down girl, down.” He scratches her behind the ears and continues his adoration. “How’s my girl today, huh? Did you miss me? Daddy missed you so much while he was gone.” Oh.

I step into the apartment and close the door behind me, coming into her view. She switches gears and suddenly jumps at me with full force. Given her size, and me being the least graceful person on the planet. I almost fall on my ass. 

“Op,” I blow a puff of air toward my nose, trying to get some of her hair out of the way. When I steady myself on two solid feet, thank you very much, I ask, “And what’s your name, pretty girl? I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me. It’s Penelope, by the way.” Sam replies. “Or Duchess, or Penny, Penny girl. Whichever you prefer.”

“Penelope is a pretty name. You hear that? Pretty name for a pretty girl huh?” I coo in a slight baby voice. She is a gorgeous dog even if she is large. Her coat is incredibly soft. It's covered in black and brown with white all down her belly and just a bit on her nose.

“You know you can come in, right? You don’t have to stand by the door?” He waves me in. 

“Uhm, actually. I have to use the bathroom, do you mind?” I hate this part. The awkward, I don't know you that well, and now we're talking about bodily functions, part of getting to know someone. 

“Yeah, but it's actually through my bedroom.” He points to the doorway behind me. “First door is my closet, the second door is the bathroom.”

I walk through the doorway and take in my surroundings. Sam’s room is different than I expected and somehow exactly like I expected it to be. Not that I’ve pictured it, because I definitely have not. He has a king-sized bed with boring gray sheets. Typical. His deep wood nightstand sits just below one of 2 windows in his room, both without curtains. It’s pretty bare just an alarm clock, a lamp, and a charging pad for his phone. He has a few small plants in the window, which I should have expected given there’s a handful of plants in his kitchen. The walls are bare, apart from the few prints above his bed that’s sat on a frame with no headboard. I wonder if they’re his photos? He has a dresser that matches his nightstand and a TV on top with a gaming console. A very standard boy room apart from the few totes of his film strips that hang around. I suddenly realize I’ve been lingering too long in a space that isn’t mine, and I make my way to the bathroom, but not before I accidentally open his closet. Wow, he has a lot of clothes? I start to finger my way through the various fabrics. A man with a sense of style, so uncommon for this area. I close the closet door and choose the right door this time. 

I rinse my hands under the warm faucet, letting my eyes close, and the water start to warm me. This is going to be fine. I look at myself in the mirror. It's going to be fine. The project will be fine. You and Sam will get along… eventually. You’ll get the job and you’ll never have to talk to him again. It’ll be fine. If I say the words enough, maybe I’ll start to believe them. I dry my hands off and exit the bathroom with a silent wish that I took less time than it feels like I did. 

I pop my head back into the kitchen area where I first walked in, but I don’t see him.. Or Penelope. I take small, cautious steps toward what I assume is the living room. Just as I’m about to enter, I run full-bodied into Sam, causing my forehead to bounce right off his collarbone. A mixture of frustrated sounds escapes the two of us before he plants both his large hands on my shoulders and steps an arm’s length away from me. I rub at the pain between my eyes. Ouch.

“I thought you got lost for a minute.”

“No I just.. Didn’t know where you were. I wasn’t trying to invade your space.”

“Little late for that, isn’t it,” he gestures a hand between us, referring to our closeness. “Plus, there are only so many rooms, Willa. You would have found me eventually.” I hate it when he says my name. He turns and walks farther into the room calling after me, “You comin?”

I enter the room and it’s actually fairly large for it being in the city. Good, decent-sized apartments are hard to find here. There’s a half-brick wall behind the orange couch. The large windows set above it let in a ton of light but somehow don’t reflect off the TV screen sitting opposite it. He has records stored in a few different places and an old-style record player. A Fender Bass guitar and a small amp sit in the corner. I didn't know he could play an instrument. A small standing desk in the corner where his laptop sits among various other papers and notebooks. And to the left, there's a beautiful wall of shelves set up with a handful of film cameras. All old, each serving a unique purpose. It’s heaven for a person like me. I don't know why I've never thought to collect film cameras before. 

“Wow.” It comes out of my mouth barely above a whisper.

“I know. It's my favorite part of my house.” He’s proud. And he should be. I can feel the weight of his eyes on me, studying my reaction.

“Where did you get them all?” I question, reaching to touch one before I pull my hand back. It would be rude to just touch something so delicate and important, but the desire in me is burning. 

“Flea markets and vintage shops. Ebay. I even bought one off Etsy, oddly enough.” 

The anticipation is killing me, and I start to shift anxiously on my feet. I feel like a child at a candy store waiting for permission to let loose and stock my bag full. I’m sure from the outside I look like a child at a candy store, but I don’t care. If Sam didn’t annoy me so much, I might try to con my way into being friends with him just so I can test each one out. Every old camera has its own quirks it has developed over the years. Like it curated its own personality, stealing bits from each person that has held it. It’s a fun experience to learn a camera. 

“Go ahead.” he stifles his chuckle. 

I run my fingers over the few cameras on the bottom shelf.  He has a few different cameras from a few different decades, definitely older than both of us combined. I settle on a ‘1981 vintage Kiev camera Jupiter’; it doesn't shoot in 35mm like most standard film cameras. It shoots in 8m, creating a wider shot, not quite like today's panorama views. 

“I love that one. She creates these really beautiful wide shots. You gotta make sure you press quick and hard, though, or you won’t actually capture the photo.” He steps behind me and places his hand on mine, tilting the camera upwards before pointing at the button he’s referencing. His hands are so warm. When I inhale to disrupt my own thoughts, my back touches his chest. His chest is warm, too. Oh God. It's too warm in here. I step forward and turn around, facing him again. 

“She’s beautiful. I think I’ll go with this one. Thank you, Sam.” I dare to look at his coffee-colored eyes. “I know lending out something this special is a big deal. So thank you.”

“Just be careful. Josephine was a hard find." He grabs the camera from my hand and walks over to the couch where his camera bag is, slipping it inside.

“Josephine?” I question, “Do you.. name all your cameras?”

“Don’t judge me, okay. You’re telling me you don’t name yours? What about your car huh?” Oh, he’s got me there.

“I.. have named every car I’ve ever had.” I raise my hands in defeat and bow my head in amusement. 

“Alright then. Take your judgy pants off and leave 'em at home.”

“Hey, aren’t you going to grab one?” avoiding the previous comment entirely. 

“Nah, I always have my Olympus on me. I shoot on film any chance I can get.” He picks up his bag and slides it back on his shoulder. 

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Back in my car and buckling our seat belts, he says, “So I was thinking about the woods and water idea, and maybe we can shoot in town to save time and then, uhm, tomorrow.. uhh, if you’re free, we could do the woods stuff.” He seems nervous, and I can’t quite place my finger on why. I agree, placing my car in reverse and backing onto the main road. 

“I know of a nice place we can go… For tomorrow, I mean.”

“Should I be concerned you’re going to murder me in the woods?”

“I would never do that.”

“Sounds like something a murderer would say to a potential victim.” I side-eye him before returning my gaze to the road. “Don’t try anything, I most definitely will be bringing pepper spray tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m on sabbatical. Even serial killers need a break.” He flashes me a cocky smile and winks at me once again. The next person who winks at me is going to end up with their eyeball on a skewer. I SWEAR.

“Okay, now we're taking separate cars. That is, if you can even make it.”

“How dare you talk about Edith like that.” Raising his eyebrows in offense. “She is a gem and has been through a lot. She just needs TLC is all.”

“Edith? Josephine? What is this, the 1940s?” 

“Hey! Edith and Josephine are great names. They’re vintage– my truck is older than I am, so it makes sense.” He shrugs. “What’s your car's name, huh?”

“Jon Bon Silver Fox.” I try not to smile at the ridiculousness of it, but it’s sentimental, sort of. And it makes me laugh.

“Jon Bon… Silver Fox..” repeating my words slowly. “Like Jon Bon Jovi?”

“Like Jon Bon Jovi. My mom loved him when I was growing up so she always had his music playing, I grew up loving him too. Nowadays he's a silver fox, my car is silver, therefore: Jon Bon Silver Fox.”

“You would like mom-rock,” we both laugh, and I send him a small eye-roll to follow. 

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After finding another off-street parking spot, god, I hate Portland. We have a small huddle before deciding to split up and see what we can find. Our version of splitting up is just heading the same way down the road and shooting on opposite sides of the sidewalk, but it works. 

As annoying as the parking situation is in this city, it's absolutely beautiful here. Every building is made up of tattered red bricks because everything in this city is old. Old, but beautiful. There’s a history here, every spot has a story. Every small restaurant is owned by someone's grandfather or great-grandfather and passed down through generations. Sidewalks with initials carved into them, we even have our own version of the ‘love locks’. 

The evening breathes a different light, though. It’s painted with character right down to the cobblestone streets the drunk girls wobble down during the summer nights. The “cobble wobble” will never not be funny to me, especially since I’ve been that girl a time or two. 

I spot a Song Sparrow; at least I think that’s the correct bird. It's a small little thing with a tan body and dark brown spots, and it's absolutely beautiful. I crouch down, trying to make myself small so he doesn’t get scared and fly away. Aiming for a shot on the vintage camera I’ve borrowed from Sam, I realize the view is far too wide for what I need. 

“Sam!” I whisper-shout, looking around for him. When I don’t see him I call his name again a little louder. He pops his head up from behind a bush and I frantically wave him over pressing a finger to my lips to quiet him. He kneels down behind me. 

“I need this,” I say, grabbing his camera, still attached to his neck by his camera strap. He leans into me further as I pull the viewfinder close to my eye. I adjust the settings as quickly as I can so I don’t miss it.

He's far too close to my ear when he whispers to me, “I can take it off, you know?” A shiver runs down my back from the heat of his breath. Focus, Willa. 

“There’s no time. I don’t want him to fly away,” I click a couple times, and he shifts on his feet, crinkling whatever wrapper is trapped between his shoe and the pavement. 

“Shhhh,” I reach my hand across my body and grab his face blindly, my eye still glued to the camera. “Don't. Move.” I release him. One more click, and I’m certain I’ve got a good shot. 

“Did you get it?” He whispers in my ear again. I turn to face him, and he is so close to me. I follow his eyes as they meet mine and drop down to my lips. Oh, no.

I clear my throat, “Yeah, I think I did. Uhm,” I squeeze my lids shut and pause, trying to center myself. We both rush to stand at the same time. In the flurry of limbs, I seem to trip over my own foot, losing my balance completely. Sam lunges toward me but isn’t quick enough. I have no idea how I am the least graceful person alive. I grab the antique camera around my neck and on my way to the ground and try my best to hold it in the air. My ass takes all the damage in the fall but the camera remains perfectly intact. I breathe a sigh of relief, if Josephine was hard to find once, she'd be hard to find twice. 

“Jesus christ, Willa,” he hurries to my side. His next words don’t match the concern on his face. “You have to be more careful. You could have broken something!” He scolds me. His camera? That’s what he's worried about? I look down at the palm on my left hand, it's scuffed and bleeding slightly. Small rocks embedded in my skin. My ass is definitely going to have a bruise.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine. Your camera is fine,” I roll my eyes and brush myself off before standing. I hiss as my hand starts to throb. “Ah fuck” I mutter under my breath, waving my hand, trying to shake off the pain. 

“No..” a prolonged deep sigh escapes his lips. “Never mind, just be more careful,” reiterating his initial point. 

“Yeah, Got it.” I snap. Annoyance settles through me to my core once again. A constant state of being when I’m around him. Does he really think I’d be the type of person to let his shit break? “No, you know what. You always have some slick comments to say. Like you might just spontaneously combust if the world doesn’t hear your shitty commentary. Why are you always a jerk?”

“Telling you to be careful, is me being a jerk?” He defends.

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to your camera, Sam. So, please, can you not think I’m an idiot for five seconds?” I huff out.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot? I think you’re a klutz and definitely way too cranky for your own good, but I definitely don’t think you’re stupid.” Sounding slightly confused. For the love of god, why is he confused? 

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Can we go? I got what I needed, and I definitely don’t want to look at you anymore.” I start to head back toward my car. 

“I hope it gives you hell when you do, Birdie.” he follows in my footsteps. Birdie? What the hell is that?

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I somehow have found myself back at the Caravel Tavern. I say somehow but what I really mean is Quinn forced me, and I really can never say no to them. They know that and pull the ‘I’m your best friend’ card constantly. They’re lucky I love them so much.

“I cannot believe you made me come back here.” I shrink in my seat, trying to appear as small as possible. We’re sitting toward the back but not entirely in the corner. I face the door so I can see most of the bar to try and prevent someone from sneaking up on me. A thing that I learned does not actually work when it comes to this place. 

“Please, you act like I'm not at all nosy and don’t want to see the face of the man who keeps you lying awake at night.” Quinn teases.

“I do not lie awake at night. He just annoys me every waking moment of every waking day that I have to interact with him. Did I tell you he wore glasses today? It’s bad enough that he knows how to dress himself, but then to wear glasses? It made his face extra punchable.”

“Babes, that’s called cuteness aggression.”

“No, Absolutely not. He’s annoying, not cute. He also started calling me Birdie today. No idea why. Birdie??” In the middle of my defense, I notice Quinn’s eyes go wide and then the bartender I haven’t met yet appears from behind me, effectively scaring me. What is it with this place?

“Welcome, Welcome!” he says, as cheerful as if sunshine itself had manifested in our presence.

“Is it written in the manual as a requirement that you sneak up behind your guests and scare them?” I inquire. 

“Ahh yes, actually. It's in the section of the manual right next to ‘How to deal with cheeky customers’,” He throws me an equally cheeky side eye and a smile. 

“Ya know, I like you. At least one of you can grow a mustache around here.”

“I’m not Employee of the Month for nothing. Be on the lookout for a framed photo of yours truly on the wall over there.” He makes a small gesture toward the bathrooms. 

“So what, can I get you started with today?” At least one person who works here is funny. He’s charming in a way that Sam wishes he was. Effortlessly so. He’s not cocky or arrogant, he’s just funny and warm. Warm in a way that if all the people of the world were like that, it would be a better place. He takes our orders, making us laugh through the whole interaction, which is a nice change of pace from the last few days. He pauses a moment before he leaves and his gaze lingers on Quinn a bit. Interesting.

“I think he thinks you’re cute, Q,” I whisper to them like a gossiping old bitty. 

“He’s related to the owner.” They tell me, whispering back.  

“Jesus Christ, there’s three of them?”

“Three of them?”

“Yeah, the one who can’t grow a mustache owns the bar, and Sam is his brother. If this one is related to the owner too, then they’re all brothers.” I pause.

 “Wait, how do you know he’s related to the owner?” I look over toward the bar and accidentally make eye contact with Sam. “Oh god.” I whisper, “That’s him. Quinn, don’t look, he's coming over here.”

“What happened to not wanting to look at me? Change your mind and come to gaze at my devilish handsomeness?” Sam exudes cockiness from every orifice. What a tool. 

“Devilish, yes. Handsome, debatable. I came for a drink. Had to unwind after dealing with the world's worst coworker today.” I flutter my eyelashes and throw him a sarcastic smile. 

“Yeah, that Susan is an uptight bitch, huh?” He takes notice of Quinn, looking them up and down in their striped, earth-toned sweater and mocha-colored overalls. Their hair in their signature pixie cut curls. 

“And who is this?” He asks while maintaining his gaze on Quinn. 

“Uh, Sam, this is my roommate, Quinn. Quinn, this is my project partner, Sam.” He reaches out to shake their hand, which they return apprehensively.

“Birdie, you didn’t tell me your roommate was hot.” I would pay money to have had someone record this interaction because Quinn’s face is priceless. Maybe now they understand the hell I go through.

The third brother appears from out behind Sam, then in the sneaky way they all seem to have perfected. 

“OKAY.” He says loudly, clamping his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Don’t you have some shit to take care of? Like your job.” Sam starts to try, and pull his shoulder away. By the grimace he’s making, he has a tight grip on his brother. Sam breaks free and rubs at his shoulder. 

“Ow, Josh,” He says, not low enough to escape my ears. What a baby. I wonder if he’ll complain about that, too. Probably. 

“So, sorry about him. He doesn’t get out much. He acts a bit rabid when he sees real people.” Josh pads off to return to his other duties. 

“Do you see what I mean? He’s intolerable.”

“Absolutely, completely intolerable.”

“Thank you.” 

“No, you’re right, Wilson. Sam IS cute.” They say a bit too loud for my taste. “Shhhhh. I never said that!” I look around frantically to see if any of the brothers are within earshot and regretfully notice a smirk on Sam’s lips. Curse Quinn and their antics.

&lt;- Chapter Three Chapter Five

Masterpost | Taglist

Taglist 💜 :

(I don't know what happened last week with the tags I double checked this week 😅)

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @mindastreamofcolours @imleavingyoufornewyork @dont-go-home-without-me@literal-dead-leaf, @lizzys-sunflower @threadofstars @mackalah @klarxtr @ourlovesdesire, @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @takenbythemadness @i-love-gvf @ladywhimsymoon @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf, @violet-hayes @anythingforjtk

[sapphire-weapon]

another broke take i keep seeing is that ashley develops feelings for leon but that it’s not mutual, which is dumb bc even if leon isn’t as open about it (the ‘running from creeps’ and ‘good company’ lines notwithstanding), his body language is very telling imo.

holding on to her a little longer than he needs to during the church escape, touching her shoulder to check on her (when they’re saved by luis) or in reassurance (post-stabbing), gently cupping her head and tracing his fingers down her arm, reaching for her face again when she’s on the altar, grabbing her hand to pull her into the lift, and the way he always stops to help her up with both arms when she’s downed by enemies

even the fact that he’s literally being paid to protect her can’t justify the tenderness of all these little touches. i highly doubt “touch the president’s daughter like she’s the only thing that keeps you going” was in his job description. don’t even get me started on his boyish, almost bashful, “i can catch ya” like literally what the fuck

I think, after being forced into the shadows for eighteen fucking years by this fandom -- and by Aeon fans especially -- I've been hesitant to make any definitive statements on Leon and Ashley's relationship outside of its effects on Leon's character arc (and reaffirming over and over and over again that Ashley disappears from the series, as though to soothe people's reactions??).

But I was on discord talking to @godtier earlier, and once I actually said it out loud and then actually got an agreement from someone who could not be paid to give a fucking shit about this ship -- I'm just going to go ahead and say it for the wider fandom.

Resident Evil 4 Remake was written as a romance, and the romance is between Leon and Ashley.

With the new scenes they've added in, it's literally structured like a romance story is. I'll even outline it for you.

1) Call to Adventure / The Meet Cute

Literally their first meeting in the church, culminating with the catch and that moment of longing as they lock eyes while Leon continues to hold her just a few seconds too long.

2) Refusal of the Call / Rejection of the Relationship

At first, Leon treats Ashley solely as his mission objective. ("Hey can we take a break?" "Sorry, we need to keep moving.") And Ashley, for a good bit, doesn't trust him at all but goes with him because she has no other choice. ("Seriously, this cannot be happening.")

3) Acceptance of the Quest / Giving the relationship a chance

The escape from the cabin sequence up to the "seems this isn't your first time running from creeps." line. This is where we see them actually start to warm up to each other, and Ashley, for the first time, believes Leon can and will really get her out of there.

4) Trials and Temptations / Three Dates

The three dates are:

1) Ashley busting the window open after the Mendez boss fight, helping brush the embers off of Leon, and helping to pull him to his feet

2) Salazar's introduction ("The girl's just fine. With me.")

3) The road to the Water Hall (Leon jumping across the chandeliers + this is the first time the "knight and the princess" allegory is stated)

5) Midpoint Crisis / I-need-you-but-can’t-have-you

The stab followed by Ashley running away in tears, terrified of hurting Leon again and horrified that he saw her like that. This is also the second time that the "knight and the princess" allegory is stated.

6) The Road Back / Pulling Back Together

The pep talk. Leon is openly vulnerable for the first time ever in this game, and Ashley is grateful to have him with her. Note that Luis calls Leon "Prince Charming" immediately following this scene.

7) The Fall

Ashley stating "I won't run. Wait for me, Leon." And then Leon following up with the "I can catch ya" line.

8) Dark moment / The Break Up

Leon sitting at Ashley's bedside waiting to turn and ready to shoot himself. He's already half given up, and some part of him has started to believe that they won't actually make it out of here -- not together, at least.

9) The Sacrifice

"This time, it has to be different." Leon is forced to challenge the assertion by Ada and Krauser that he hasn't changed, and he even has to prove it to himself. He destroys Ashley's plaga, holding her hand the whole time, smiles breathlessly, then collapses to the floor.

10) Declaration

"Hey... we're a team, right?" "Keep this up? I'll be out of a job."

11) The HEA

Leon and Ashley literally ride off into the sunrise together towards a happily ever after.

The original RE4 is not structured this way. Even if I tried to, I couldn't slot Leon and Ashley's scenes from OG into this outline.

And the romance angle is reinforced over and over and over again through repeated use of the "knight and the princess" allegory beyond what I've even listed in the outline. You know, the fairy tales about the knight who saves the princess and they fall in love and live happily ever after. In addition to Salazar saying it, there's the "Prince Charming" line from Luis, Ashley references it when she jokes that Leon should literally put on the knight's armor -- and, on a meta level, Leon has a fucking fantasy hero costume.

There's even goddamn dialogue in the game where Ashley says to Leon, "I knew you'd come" -- which is basically just ripped right out of the Princess Bride.

And to continue the meta reinforcement of it, Leon and Ashley literally have a matching set of alternate costumes called "Romantic" -- and they are fucking Romeo & Juliet inspired. Come the fuck on, man. They couldn't have been more on the nose about it if they'd tried.

And this is in addition to all the other shit you already pointed out in your ask.

And there's the fact that they completely removed any hint of Ada possibly even remotely being a love interest for Leon in this game. The focus remains solely on Ashley and the bond that she and Leon build together.

Leon and Ashley's relationship in RE4 Remake is canonically romantic in nature, and I'm so fucking tired of pretending like it's not.

[millenari]

1 for the ask game, please! I have been SO curious about the soulmates au :3

Number one, the human celeb/soulmate au! This one obviously is.. a human au. in which Tugger is a well known celebrity (we're not talking beyonce or taylor swift level famous or anything, but he has fame and wealth and so on) and Misto is just an average guy. In this soulmate au, pretty much everyone has a mark somewhere on their body that is said to match that of their soulmate. They are extremely private, and are always hidden. The fic starts with Misto hearing from his sister (who he's visiting in LA) about this celebrity she likes who had their soulmark exposed during a performance, and very rapidly goes from 'oh damn that sucks' to 'OH HOLY SHITTING HELL' when she shows him the pictures and he discovers the celebrity in question has his matching mark. Thousands of people are already crafting imposter marks to match Tugger's though, so Misto tries to content himself with never meeting his soulmate. Guy kind of looks like a dick anyways. Like two days later though, by pure chance, Misto happens to meet his soulmate. Though of course he can't tell Tugger they have matching marks; he'd never believe Misto with all the fakes out there. Between that and (a pretty much instantly infatuated) Tugger making a Very bad first impression, Misto decides to keep the truth about their marks to himself. Cue 300k words of shenanigans.

“Do you–” Misto starts, baffled. “Do you flirt with people’s sisters to get their attention so often that this is just routine for you?”

“No, actually.”

“Oh, great. I’m the lucky exception, then.”

“Most people would think so, yes,” Tugger agrees with actual sincerity.

“Right, of course,” Misto responds. “I’m sure everyone else on the planet just dies for–” He scoffs, waving a hand at the bastard. “–self-absorbed, spoiled, childish assholes in eyeliner.” Who harass their assistants and resort to mind games when they don’t get what they want. What a fucking keeper.

“Wow,” Tugger laughs, unfortunately not sounding offended at all. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Did you hear a thing I just said?”

“What did eyeliner ever do to you?” Tugger amends with a snort.

“Add ‘selective listening’ to that list, then,” Misto shoots back, incensed. He goes to turn back to Victoria’s drink but finds himself halted when Tugger catches his wrist, holding it level with his shoulder.

“Not that you’re not cute when you’re angry,” Tugger says with amusement that makes Misto want to set him on fire. “But you… are a very easy person to annoy.”

“Maybe you’re just very irritating,” Misto bites back, though he loses some of his nerve when Tugger steps forward, leaving little space between them as he looks down at Misto.

“Popular opinion on that one says no,” Tugger figures slowly, thumb sliding up Misto’s pulse to the base of his hand. His gaze finds Misto’s, mouth curling in a sly smirk as he steps forward again, effectively boxing him in against the counter. “Let me change your mind.”

Breath catching in his throat at the sudden heat of Tugger’s torso against his, he twists up onto his toes as leans back, free hand catching the edge of the countertop. Tugger lifts his own free hand to fit his fingers under Misto’s chin, thumb briefly snagging on his lower lip.

Misto breathes in raggedly through his mouth, eyes wide, caught off guard by the sudden closeness of him– and more pressing, the realness of him. Not the vague imagining of a young Misto nor the smirking handsome celebrity on the other side of a computer screen, distant and ungraspable. A real human person, with a sharp jaw and dark eyelashes and careful slender hands that slide along Misto’s jaw as his lips quirk higher and his gaze drifts down to Misto’s mouth.

“Quiet all of a sudden,” Tugger murmurs, head tilted and eyes half-lidded, so lowly Misto almost doesn’t hear it even as close as he is. But he sounds– proud.

And of course he’s proud, Misto thinks in a sudden incensed rush that cuts through that stupid starry-eyed haze. This is a game to this spoiled, famous asshole. Nothing more, nothing less. Get the reluctant, shy one to crack. He’s not even the first person to pull this shit on Misto.

And he damn well won’t be the last, either.

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

hello! take your time with doing this, just thought it'd be fun to figure out which (pjo/mean girls) character you'd ship me with<3

I'm fem presenting, she/they, pansexual. i have really wavy (and sometimes frizzy) dark brown hair that goes down to my back (it's pretty curly after washing though) and i also have brown eyes! im the brown triad because my skin, too, is infact brown lmao (desi)

also have glasses! normal half moon shape if that matters?

i generally have a bit of a resting bitch face (I DONT MEAN IT I PROMISE) and mostly only smile a lot when I'm talking to people I like. unfortunately that makes people NOT COME UP TO ME !!!! DKDKFK :(

i imprint on people really soon (bpd) and like. absolutely if someone is nice to me for a minute I'll try my best to be their friend forever, but also it doesn't often show how enthusiastic I am for a friendship

very autistic so I need clear cut statements or I'll overthink to the point of having a THESIS about how much someone hates me

im kind of hyper. very very VERY hyper, and my love language is physical touch + words of appreciation.

bit of a mom friend - like. im also the therapist friend and i appreciate it <33

personality tests describe me as like, creative and analytic and shit? im fatally realistic but still a romantic to a point. also an absolute NERD, YES! also very protective. I've punched people for hurting my friends before yes

I'm not very active, my hobbies include reading and literary analysis and also, eating lmao.

idk if I should include anything else? sorry if this isn't enough for you 😭😭 um. if it helps I'm a daughter of hecate from like two quizzes, a daughter of venus from three !

Your Fandom Ship(s): Gretchen Wieners (Mean Girls) and Clarisse La Rue (PJO, luckyyyy)

OK, the main reason I ship you with Gretchen out of all the mean girls characters is I think you could be really helpful to her as a nice person and I think that maybe at first she thought you were a bit intimidating because we are resting bitch face, but eventually got over it and realized you were really nice person and especially after Regina she needs a lot of people that she can count on and a lot of truly kind souls which I feel like is a place that you could fulfill because you seem like a kind person and I feel like when you get on deeper terms of a relationship, you guys would actually be really well together and helping solve some of your Own personal issues and just have a really beneficial relationship. I thinkA as autism. She would be a bit confused, but once she got the hang of it, she would be pretty good at giving you clear and cut instructions at least the best of her abilities.

OK, you guys would be like an insanely cute couple. I just see kind of like enemies to lovers tension here but I mean honestly I just love the idea of you too together. I think that it would be funny for her to meet you because she would definitely think you’re kind of tough because you’re resting bitch face and then once she gets past that and sees that you’re really nice person I feel like you would kind of melt her heart a little bit and I mean, give me wrong. She would absolutely go rough on you at first, but I mean once she realizes your limitations. She would respect those and I just feel like you guys would be a really good couple together. She would know all your autism and boundaries solidly into the relationship, and yeah, just be super awesome and supportive and again the enemies lovers tension. I feel like it’s kind of rare in her life to have someone who really has her back and I feel like she thought it was super hot. The first time you punched someone for making fun of how muscular she was for a girl or something like that, and I don’t know I just feel like she feels like you really have her back and you guys have a nice stable relationship. 

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

hmm... by any chance how would you imagine MC met each of the MinecraftHybrid! boys? Like was Joseph violent at first like how wardens normally are in the Ancient City and chilled as he got to see they were harmless? I think I saw you mention how they met Shaun and he probably helped them meet Jack and Rory soon too if I'm guessing, but I am just interested in learning how MC got to know each of the boys.

Ok, so you actually meet Ian first! You two meet in the cherry grove where he lives. He didn't talk to you for the longest time, simply watching you as you did your thing. The first time you catch more than a glimpse of him is when you save him from a zombie hoard

After a while Ian tells you about this wolf that will not leave him alone so you go out to deal with it. Bo doesn't trust you for anything until you pull a few bones from your bag. The bones worked a bit too well because now he keeps calling you master and refuses to leave your side

Bo kept asking you for a leash for his collar so you found a mangrove swamp to get some slime. What you didn't expect to find was a whole ass man just out in the woods. You could tell he was trying to play down his own excitement at seeing you so when he offered for you to come over some time you couldn't say no

During one your hang outs with Shaun Nick stopped by for his medicine. He loves water but it burns his skin if he touches it so Shaun makes him water res potions so he can take a bath every now and again, and not die in rain storms I guess. He's not very talkative but he gives you a poppy by the end of it so you think it went well

Seeing as you wanted to beat the enderdragon at some point you need to go to the Nether for blaze rods but Shaun stops you before you go. He says there might be a different way to get blaze powder that doesn't involve you getting in danger. He has a portal that leads right to a fortress and a very friendly man. Jack thinks you're great, doubly so when you and Rory get along, but he doesn't know about you taking his blaze rods. You two strike a deal that if you help him color-ify the fortress he'll get you those blaze rods

While stocking up for your battle with the enderdragon Shaun asks you to come with him while he gets more dark oak wood. He says there's ghosts in there but you're skeptical. That is until you meet the guy Shaun is so scared of. He looks like an allay but once you start to trust him he tries to stab you, so not the best first impretion

After finally killing the enderdragon you meet Jean, or Jean Jr seeing as his now dead mother was also named Jean...Wait what? "Yeah, that was my mom, thanks by the way, she was real bitch" Jean's kind of a hot mess in the overworld having never seen anything outside of the End but he's pretty cute

And, finally. You knew it was stupid, you knew it was a bad idea but you just had to. You had to find an ancient city. Once you get there you get a bit reckless and summon a warden. It's terrifying, your vision goes dark and all you can hear is your heart racing in your ears as you try and hold your breath. As he comes into view you see this warden looks more...person like than what you were expecting. In a last ditch attempt at saving your own skin you whisper a small apology. After that Joseph calms down, he didn't know you were a person, he doesn't think he could live with killing a person

And that all of them!