#this stuff has been living in my head rent free and I had to subject yall to it

[incorrect-spideytorch]

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about spideytorch lately (as I am one to do) and a question popped into my head:

What is the most important spideytorch comic panel?

There’s a ton of great options in my opinion, but I think there also is an answer (at least for me) so now I am going to subject all of you to my thought process. Get ready for a way to long post breaking this down.

The most obvious starting point has to be this classic

Johnny Storm is going full house husband for Peter Parker, I mean c’mon! add in the fact that he’s in his undies and the way that he’s leaning over peter… yeah this is a classic. This might be the most famous spideytorch panel out there, but I don’t think it’s the most important one.

Another classic (but more antagonistic?) one takes place, of course, at the usual place.

To me this is peak identity shenanigans and the stuff that fanfics are made of. The betrayal, the heartbreak, the complications that go into the conflicting way these two view identity, oh boy I could talk about that shit for hours, but as an individual moment, it doesn’t really crack most important for me, it needs a bit more affection (they’re very bad at affection sometimes).

Another panel that came to mind very quickly for me is this set.

Johnny literally only had to say his name and Peter knew exactly what he meant and what he needed. This is top tier levels of communication, both between them and from the creators to us. I think this is another one that I could talk about for hours. That being said, it doesn’t feel important enough to me.

A friend in the spideytorch discord server posed this panel as the most important spideytorch moment in the comics.

I’m just gonna put their quote in cause it’s great. “I think this is one of my favorite panels cause Johnny was just speaking generally and Peter was like ‘oh my god! Actual wise words form johnny’ but also, I love that this was a more important moment for Peter than Johnny.” I must say, this entry is extremely important to spideytorch and gave my choice a run for its money. I don’t have a huge reason for not making this one the most important, other than personal taste. For their relationship, this is a key moment and sets them on the path to actually being friends (at least on Peter’s end), but idk it just wasn’t doing it for me.

Another panel I was reminded of thanks to this submission was this moment.

It’s not quite as impactful as the past one by a long shot but I do think it’s important. After being rivals for so long, to see Johnny give a genuine heartfelt compliment to Peter is fantastic (haha). This feels like the other half of the previous set of panels. There we had Johnny encouraging a stranger and here he’s encouraging his friend.

Some other friends in the discord server suggested the moment that Johnny invites Peter over to watch his sex tape (yes this is canon).

(Not pictured, Peter swinging away and saying he needs to take a cold shower). Now I’m not saying that the most important spideytorch moment needs to be serious, but I think this moment might be too unserious to claim that title. This moment was huge for the fanbase because holy shit did, he actually say that, but for their relationship, I just don’t think it was as important as it was to us.

Now I do want to knock out a few honorable mentions that I would hate to miss.

First, this look given to Spidey by Johnny, I mean yeah, he’s in love.

And to balance the lovesick flirty scales I must expose Peter as well.

Next, this heartbreaking moment that basically admits to the audience that Peter’s world becomes chaos when he loses Johnny. That shit hits.

Of course, the moment that gave us the ship name.

A panel that lives in my head rent-free because honestly marvel what were you attempting to convey here other than the fact that Peter really wants to have hate sex with Johnny Storm?

To take us outside of our duo, this quote from Ben Grimm (EDIT: it’s was Peter’s clone Ben Reilly, which honestly only adds more drama), because honestly same.

And of course, I have to include the panel which showed us the first time (on page) that Peter told Johnny he loved him AND gave us canon proof that these two have “date night,” many a fic writer was fed well.

And how could we forget! THE USUAL PLACE! Literally any panel mentioning this is top tier because its so good, like the core of the fandom honestly.

Lastly, before moving on to my own more serious contenders I have to share this parallel that @sciderman shared because I love it.

Now to my serious contenders for the title of most important spideytorch panel (please remember this is all my opinion and I mean no shade). This will be a top 5, but just know some of these rankings are pretty flexible (even flexible with some panels from the beginning), and this question should not be taken as seriously as I am taking it, I am fully aware of that.

Number 5!

So, I know that I discounted the sex tape scene earlier because I didn’t think it was serious enough and it didn’t do enough for their actual relationship, but I had to include this one I’m sorry. A lot of this is personal taste but the implications here are *chefs kiss* The first time I saw this panel was actually on Pinterest with the caption “wait a second, did spider-man and the human torch have sex?” which says it all for me.

Beyond that, this moment also shows how they reach out to each other when they have problems. Strange children show up in Peter’s life and the first person he calls about it is Johnny. Again, this is not the most serious, but I love it. This moment shows the banter of their relationship, how they care about and rely on each other, and also potentially reveals that they’ve had sex. There’s a lot to take in.

Number 4!

I will be honest with you all, this moment is here almost entirely because Ben’s quote lives in my head rent-free. Everyone around them sees how they feel about each other besides them. When they were rivals others could tell they actually liked each other and when they became friends others could tell that it was deeper than that. I think I especially love this panel because it conforms that we’re not crazy for thinking there’s something there but also because Ben specifically cites the way Johnny looks at peter. That is very specific and says a lot. I can’t imagine Ben would say this if the looks Johnny gave Peter were purely platonic, and just ahhhh, there’s so much said here just in one line from Ben. There was of course the Ben moment earlier, which I also love, but something about this one, the more specific phrasing of it I think just shoots it up my rankings a lot.

Number 3!

If you’ve been following me for a while I don’t think this is a surprise at all, I have already done a very in depth post about this panel so I’ll keep my thoughts brief. Red Skull knows that hurting Johnny will hurt Peter, Peter’s Spidey senses go off FOR JOHNNY, and we are given so much angst potential, I love it.

Number 2!

This one is probably a more popular choice than my number one, and I totally get it. The excitement and joy bursting out of Peter when he finally realizes that Johnny is here, he’s real, and he’s alive really gets me. Plus, the added context to the uniform comment being that Johnny literally left Peter his family and his spot on the team in his will. The amount of pure love in this moment and its larger context is abundant, platonic or romantic, it’s there. I feel like everything I could say about this panel has probably been said before, but it is definitely worthy of being the most important spideytorch moment, even if I have one that beats it for me.

Number 1!

For those of you who don’t know, this panel comes from Peter visiting Gwen’s grave and talking to her. That fact alone breaks me in half but then the things he says to her shatter me. Every spider-man fan knows how much Gwen’s death broke Peter, it destroyed him to lose her. Just the fact that Peter admits Johnny brings part of him back is amazing (haha) because that is a hug feat. But then he shatters me even more with his final sentences. After Gwen’s death, we often get a peter who spends too much time as Spidey in order to avoid having to cope with Gwen’s death as Peter, but also as a way to cope with the loss (he’s a complicate man). Spideypool also gets a lot from that arc because of Wade’s reaction to Spider-Man not holding back as much and becoming less of a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and that’s true. The fact that Peter feels like he’s becoming who Spidey is supposed to be again when he’s around johnny is huge! But then! He corrects himself. He’s not Spidey again, he’s Peter. The real person, the man behind the mask, comes back. And then you get the final correction. He’s not just peter again, he’s *Gwen’s* peter again. He is the him that existed with Gwen when he’s with Johnny. That speaks volumes and breaks whatever parts of me are left. How am I expected to read this and not think that Johnny and Peter are soulmates?

Now, I will acknowledge that this is much more of a peter moment than a joint spideytorch moment, much like the moment suggested by discord friend earlier. If that disqualifies it for you as the most important spideytorch panel, I get it. However, for me that doesn’t matter mainly for one key reason. So many classic spideytorch moments show a lot of Johnny having feelings for Peter or making a move on Peter. There have been a lot of times when I’m trying to get a friend into spideytorch, and I feel like I have to clarify that its not as one sided as it seems. Johnny is much more out there with who he is and doesn’t hide his feelings very well (except maybe from himself). So, when we get any spideytorch moment that hones in on peter’s feelings and love for Johnny, that feels so huge to me. This moment alone proves that it isn’t one sided, Peter has deep feelings for Johnny, even if he’s not sure what they are yet, he knows that what they have is special, he wouldn’t be telling Gwen about it otherwise. While it may not be as famous of a spideytorch moment, its an important one, and for me it’s probably the most important one.

Anyway, this has been a way too long post about this topic but if you made it to the end thank you so much! I would love to hear other people’s thoughts on this topic so feel free to share those. Also, just a reminder that these are my opinions, and I am not in charge at all so don’t take it too seriously (unless you want to).

If you’re interested in hearing me, go more in depth on any of these panels (or any other spideytorch panels) shoot me an ask because I could honestly talk in depth for a while about most of these panels and I would love to do so. Thank you again for reading this way to long post and good night spideytorch nation.

[xxcringeizdead666xx]

alright fellow goffs, we need to have... a talk.

Now, I know it's Thanksgiving and all (happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate it btw) and this is a pretty hard subject but this though has been living rent free in my head and I want to talk about it.

So from what I see, My Immortal is extreamly popular. so popular I know actual irl people who read it or at least know of it. I'm not even going to talk bout the huge fanbase online. I higly doubth theres a risk in publicaly coming out as the fanbase is really welcomig and supportive! people are choosing this stuff over H@rry P0tter for satans sake! and you know how much Ms j. k. terf earns? had it had an actual known author, My Immortal could very well make sure said author's children would never have to work in their life.

So, here is where we get to the main point. I've been thinking about this for a while. obviously, we don't know who the real author was. we don't have the slightest of clue. even though coming out as the author would (most likely) bring the person no bad all good. so, the author must have a motive not to show their true face to the fandom. now out of the few possible reasons, this one struck me as scary but... somewhat believable.

Now, this will sound dark but: what if Tara is... dead? It would explain why no one has spoken out.

Sorry for the ramble and leaving on a low note, I just needed to clear my head. thank you.

[not-poignant]

pia pia! ive finally sat down and binged UtB and!! i am!! obsessed!!! literally been rotisserie chicken rotating the concept in my head for a full day now - i was hoping youd be willing to expand a bit more on the worldbuilding of hillview/facilities in this au? what exactly is the end goal of these centers and how do they gen go about achieving that, understanding that hv does things diff than most (? presumably) ? thank you for putting out yet another story to live in my head, rent free <3

Hi anon!

Some of this stuff has been answered in the story already, so I'm going to pull some quotes so it might look a bit clearer when put together.

From chapter 1:

Rehabilitation centres only existed for omegas, organisations run by alphas to retrain omegas to be the perfect, subservient husbands or the best children to present at Omega Confirmations. Rehabilitation centres were generally only used by affluent families or spouses because they were expensive, because no one bothered investing in retraining omegas from the lower classes unless they were acquired by an affluent alpha in the first place. The nurse made it sound like Efnisien was going to be paired with a nice, sweet guy, but Efnisien knew Kadek was an alpha, and being ‘paired’ with him meant being fucked and tortured into behaving himself.

From chapter 4 (Dr Gary's POV):

He cared about the reputation of his facility, and he cared that he was introducing a new model of omega rehabilitation and companionship that was highly respected, but he didn’t care about individual omegas much beyond knowing Hillview had a good success rate, and positive reviews from the omegas themselves.

And:

You’ve dedicated yourself to helping reintegrate omegas into society.

And from Crielle:

‘Do you know? He doesn’t even have a birth certificate,’ Crielle said softly, and then she laughed again. ‘No one would ever know, either way, no matter what you decide to do with him. You have all that land spare, after all, I’m sure it’s something centres have to do on occasion. We might consider taking him back if you can make him a presentable omega in high society, but if you’re not confident, do whatever it is you must. With the exception of wasting any more of my valuable time with these pointless questions. Have a lovely evening, Dr Konowalous.’

From chapter 5:

‘If you try and fuck me, I’ll kill you,’ Efnisien said, steeling himself to scowl at Dr Gary. ‘I’ll kill you. I’ll kill everyone here.’ Dr Gary’s expression was faintly perplexed, but Efnisien was sure Dr Gary was putting it on. ‘Don’t fucking pretend that’s not what you do to omegas,’ Efnisien snarled. ‘Of course it’s necessary to help omegas through heats,’ Dr Gary said as though he couldn’t be less interested in the subject. ‘It assists bonding. But there’s no point in doing it now. I can’t see how it’s going to be functional or useful at this juncture.’ ‘I know you think you’re being clever, trying to use this whole bait-and-switch thing to get me dependent on you, before breaking me, but it’s not going to work.’

From chapter 7:

All omegas received an internal exam ideally before their first heat. Testing the health of the lare glands was important, and one of the ways they could be sure an omega had developed well and was biologically ready for heats. But the internal exam was put off until the omega at least had some kind of bond with their alpha. Sometimes it took months before it was performed, and in the case of Alois Flitmouse, it had taken almost half a year and two half-completed traumatic heats before he’d even allow one under sedation. Internal exams were invasive. In almost every other rehabilitation centre, they were performed as early as possible, and omegas were restrained and sedated or paralysed, but Hillview had never operated this way. They avoided restraints wherever possible, and barely had the facilities to isolate omegas. The whole architectural structure of the facility was designed to be homely, which was starkly apparent when they realised they had almost nowhere to safely put Efnisien after he'd attacked Kadek. And now they’d have to operate more like one of the barbaric facilities where the internal exams were done immediately. They couldn’t sedate him safely to make him unconscious during the actual procedure, but Gary didn’t think they could afford to wait, either.

From chapter 9:

‘So you can’t go home, and you can’t leave under your own steam,’ Anton said. ‘Why don’t you at least stay until you’re stabilised? It’ll be easier to negotiate then, and maybe your family will be open to taking you back. I know I make it sound like a question, but the fact is, that is your only option. It’s not what you want, which sucks, and I’m going to talk to Dr Gary about some stuff after all of this, because he’s shit at being a companion, isn’t he? But aside from that, you have to come back with me, we have to go back. At some point. Maybe in another few minutes.’ ‘So you’re the fuckhead who manipulates people but in a nice tone of voice,’ Efnisien said dully. ‘You still rape omegas.’ Anton stared up at the canopy for a long time. ‘If you weren’t so dangerous, I’d get you to talk to Flitmouse. But I don’t think he’d like you very much anyway. And, honestly, with how some of the rehab facilities run, what can I say? It happens. Omegas get raped.’ ‘Here too. Just because you brainwash them into thinking it’s what they want, or their heats take their ability to know their minds away, doesn’t mean you don’t rape them. You get paid to do that. Paid. I hope one of them kills you in your sleep. But it’s not like an omega to do that, is it? So maybe I have to.’

From chapter 10:

‘You medically raped him within 24 hours and you’re telling me you don’t need a supervisor? Do you remember any of the protocols you wrote up for us? For this facility? What about the shit that you’ve toured around the world, to all these different conferences? All these protocols you recommend for ground-breaking omega rehab centres? You remember any of that?’ ‘Anton,’ Gary said darkly, and he expected Anton to back down, instead Anton planted his feet and his posture stiffened. ‘You need a supervisor,’ Anton said, his eyes flashing. ‘And if it can’t be Temsen, and it’s not Augus, then it might as well be me. Because you need to report to someone. You’re not a manager, right now, Dr Gary. You’re a companion. Like it or not, that’s what you are! You have a basic but challenging job right now, which is to make a scared omega feel safe and validated. And instead you keep doing the opposite! Over and over again. Like, tell me I’m lying, did you tell him he’d be raped to death in a prison?’

Okay I'm going to stop there because this post got long.

So! From all of this: Omega rehabilitation centres are places where omegas are sent by affluent people essentially to be 'broken' and made compliant by being forced to bond with an alpha (including rape), mate with them, create a sense of dependence, and essentially trained into a more compliant version of themselves that is more submissive to the wishes of the people around them.

And that Hillview differs by offering a new type of rehabilitation that still requires bonding with alphas (as well as removing them from abusive situations), but is generally more patient on the mating front, and has good reviews from omegas so far and has a good success rate (i.e. pleased clients - husbands/families that sent the omega there in the first place).

I hope that helps. :D

We can also make some assumptions so far re: Hillview. They have caterers and cooks on site and Gary has been concerned with getting Efnisien not just food, but tasty food - indicating they're a facility that isn't into starving omegas or feeding them poor quality food. They let bonding happen over a period of time instead of rushing into rape so they care a bit more about consent than the average rehab centre.

Bonding obviously requires a lot of close contact, because when we've seen Anton and Augus, both have almost always by referring to the fact that their omega is worried and needs them and/or needs to be checked up on. And since it's rich families and spouses that send omegas to these facilities, 'graduating' an omega we can assume to mean is sending them either back to a spouse, family, or arranging a new partner/relationship for them.

Beyond that I don't know what you're looking for anon, I'm not like...going to write a complete curriculum on say 'retraining' because that's Dr Gary's job (mine is to just tell the story asldkfas), and it changes based on the omega anyway. :D But if there's anything else feel free to ask! I'm not going to go into too much detail though re: a structured teaching program say, because I want Efnisien (and therefore the reader) to find out as we do.

[labcrowndiaries]

House of Usher AU (Eng)

Something that's been on my mind lately is an AU based on the Mike Flanagan series The Fall of the House of Usher. So far, I have in mind a few of the family dynamics in this AU.

So far, this is the cast:

Roderick Usher - Clay Fermin

Madeline Usher - Kazarina

Frederick Usher - Keith Fermin

Tamerlane Usher - Mira Fermin

Victorine LaFourcade - Soleil Fermin (OC)

Napoleon Usher - Asher Fermin (OC)

Camille L'Espanaye - Lucine Fermin (OC)

Prospero Usher - Dylan Fermin (OC)

Leonore Usher - Kentatzu (OC)

Juno - Hydron

Arthur Pym - Barodius (TENTATIVE)

Changes to the original series:

Clay and Kazarina aren't twins. They're actually half-siblings who were born on the same day, and both ended up in social services, which is where they met and started being close friends.

All the "bastards" are Hydron's kids. Clay married Hydron when he was 15 and he impregnated Hydron 3 times (Soleil and Lucine are twin sisters) when he was between 15 and 19. He wasn't even 20 and he already had 4 kids, poor Hydron. Oh, btw, in this AU Hydron is transgender (I'm personally not too keen on A/B/O dynamics and, for me, it's easier to just make him AFAB and that's the end of it, that's how he got pregnant, he has a pussy, the end), he went under an experimental hormone treatment that Clay's pharmaceutical developed, but that was after having his kids.

Kentatzu is Barodius and Kazarina's son, but he was born through an artificial womb to which both Kazarina and Barodius gave their DNA. Kazarina pretty much raised Kentatzu alone since she only asked for Barodius' genes as a favor bc she trusts Barodius that much. Kentatzu does know who his father is but doesn't talk much about it. He's the one that actually manages to talk Hydron into leaving Clay once and for all after Clay ruined Hydron's whole youth.

Mira and Keith have some kind of incestous relationship. Gus finds out and he himself kills Keith out of jealousy. I think I'll dispose of a Morilla Usher in this AU since the change Kentatzu does to the world is motivating Hydron to leave Clay, which completely erases a Morilla here. Besides, I don't think Gus would be capable of betraying Keith and the idea of Keith abusing Gus out of jealousy is so OOC for me. Canonically, Keith only shows interest in Gus when he finds there's no one there to do the stuff Gus did. He only cared about Gus in an utilitarian manner, and I want to respect that one-sided relationship Keith and Gus have where Gus worships Keith and Keith just gives him crumbs of affection. Besides, I don't think Keith is as mad as Gus to torture someone with his own hands, but Gus is actually crazy, so I do believe him capable of killing Keith bc he found out Keith bangs with his sister in secret. Ace also knows this, but he pretends it doesn't bother him.

The order of the deaths changed to respect the way they went from the youngest of Roderick's kids to the oldest in the series. Dylan dies first and Lucine dies second, of course, but Soleil is the third one to die and Asher the fourth one before Mira and Keith die in that respective order.

Hydron is 50 by the time the events of the story take place (his kids are in their 30's when they die). However, he still looks kinda young bc Clay subjected Hydron to an experimental anti-aging treatment his pharmaceutical was doing. Hydron only accepted it for the sake of his kids. Hydron has wanted to leave Clay since day one, but when he had his kids, he started fearing the quality of life he could give them, so he stayed with Clay to ensure a good life for his kids. His kids always told him to leave Clay, but he always said no to that proposal bc he actually believed he couldn't raise his kids without Clay's money. It's until they die and Kentatzu talks with Hydron that Hydron finally does what's best for him: Leaving Clay's ass.

That's what I have of this AU for now. I'll make another post talking about Clay and Hydron's kids, they've been living in my head rent-free. I admit they're probably my laziest OCs ever when it comes to their physical appearance, but I'm having lots of fun building their lore (which differs somewhat from the original series). I hope you enjoy reading every now and then of this AU as much as I enjoy writing about it 💖

[spookylostboy]

My head is full of Maze Runner characters as Miraculous holders, so I’m gonna force y’all to listen!

Newt as Ladybug, yes using that name. He’s confident, level headed, and probably the most rational of the lot. Also I’m just obsessed with Newt in red (He’d also end up being Multi-Mouse at some points)

Thomas as Cat Noir! I know he’s the main character but there’s no way his personality lines up with Ladybug’s. He’s quick to act, not the best at making plans, and he’s fiercely protective of his friends. Plus Dylan in a cat costume? Yes please!

Brenda as Rena Rouge/Volpina, I’m not sure which name I prefer. She just strikes me as the kind of person who’s playful and cunning. Brenda would look awesome in orange

Minho as Carapace! Protective and not afraid to throw himself into danger, I think he’d be a great turtle hero.

Teresa as Queen Bee! This would be a modern AU so she’s be friends with everyone. I dunno, she just strikes me as a good fit for the bee miraculous

Janson as Hawkmoth because, well, obviously. He’s the main evil dude sooo

Ava as Myura, just to keep the ‘villain’ theme going and they work together in canon so

Sonya as Bunix! I like the idea of Sonya having the bunny miraculous. A time traveler and a secret keeper

Harriet as Ryukko! She’s badass and would use the dragon’s power to her advantage! Also, Harriet in red

Aris as Viperion! I think he’s use the snake’s power properly. He could use some second chances

Frypan as Pegasus! I….don’t really have a good answer for this one and I wanted to find a way to include all the characters, so if anyone has any ideas about this please lmk

Gally as King Monkey! Listen- tbh I hate this miraculous but it was the only one I felt that fit Gally.

And that’s it! There are a few other miraculous that haven’t been shown or are very new and they didn’t fit any if these characters. Let me know what you think!

[marchyslove]

That Smile

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

It’s our one-year anniversary and I have no idea where he’s taking me. I see a blanket in the back seat, and I know it’s going to be something romantic because that’s how he is. He’s not one of those over-the-top romantics, but he has his moments.

We pull up to a big open park, not many people around but it’s dinner time so no surprise there. He got out, almost sprinted around the car to get the door for me.

~~

*11 months earlier*

“So this is your place.” It’s exactly what you’d expect of someone like him, big, fancy, granite countertops, leather sectional, open spaces, a balcony with a hot tub and some couches. Rich people might not always look rich when you see them out on the street, but once you see where they live, there’s no denying they have money.

“It’s beautiful.”

He scratched the back of his neck nervously, “thanks, I’m not around enough to make it look the way I’d want it to, but I was thinking in the summer I might move some stuff around… make it more home-y.”

I eyed the guitar in the corner, ‘cliché,’ I thought. So many douchebags have guitars on display with no idea how to play them. So I challenged him to it. “you play?” “Yea, I do.” “Are you good?” “I’ve got a couple songs up my sleeve,” he said with a chuckle.

I plopped myself on the couch and pretzeled my legs, staring at him eagerly, “well, by all means, I’d love to hear one.” He didn’t hesitate, walked over and picked up the guitar, he came back and sat right next to me.

“any requests?”

“you know any Clapton? Cliché I know, but I love his music.”

“not cliché at all, anything specific?”

“surprise me.”

In an instant I knew the song, my favorite. When I was younger my mom and I would always listen to 70’s and 80’s radio whenever we were in the car together. Softer, slower music, played later in the day. Then there was bedtime radio that started at 9 at night. It would always start with “Wonderful Tonight” by Eric Clapton.

He must’ve noticed the smile on my face, because he started smiling too. “You like this one?”

“Love,” I answered, almost too quickly.

His smile grew.

He had one of those smiles that could make flowers bloom, or make babies stop crying. It wasn’t perfect by any means, even a little crooked, but it made fireworks go off in my stomach.

“It’s a great song, and easy enough to learn cause it’s slower. Not too many different chords.”

“It’s one of my favorites. The lyrics are incredible.”

“Can you sing?”

“Not even a little bit, I’m so bad.” Trying to find something to change the subject I started glancing around the room. My eyes went to the balcony. I got up from the couch and went over to the door. I felt a presence behind me. “We can go out if you want.” So I opened the door and step outside.

The warm, summer breeze felt like a hug. I walked around a bit, glancing at the lights and down at the street below. “Careful,” he said as he took a cautious step towards me. I didn’t realize how much I had been leaning over the edge. “Heights never really scared me.” “Well that’s good, but still… careful.” “I always am.”

I looked up; outside the city the stars were a little more visible. “Beautiful,” I said under my breath. Again, I felt a presence behind me. “You big into astrology?” “Only enough to know my star sign, and that it apparently fits me well. Beyond that, I just like to look at the stars.” “Do you know the names of any of them? Or constellations?”

My confidence grew a little bit. My summers laying outside in the grass playing around with the app on my phone that labeled the stars if you point your camera at the sky were finally about to pay off.

“That one is Sirius. It’s the brightest of them all.” “That’s easy to remember. That’s one of the dippers right?,” he asked, pointing up. “The big dipper, the little dipper is right there, and over there is Ursa Major, its shaped like a bear.” “That means there’s an ursa minor, right?” “Very good work detective,” I teased jokingly, pinching his cheek. He gave a giggle and winked at me. My heart skipped a beat.

“So you know a decent amount about stars?” “I know where they are and how to find them, I don’t know much past that.” “Impressive,” he said as he kissed my cheek.

~~

We walked for a little bit towards the center of the park. He carried the basket; I had the blanket. “I’ve never heard of this place.” “I had to do a bit of research to find it.” “Any reason you chose this park in particular?” “You’ll see.” There’s that smile, after a year I still get the same fireworks when I see it. I glance over at him, and he’s already looking at me. “What are you looking at?” “My girl,” he said with a wink.

He stopped walking abruptly. He looked up at the sky, then around the park. Looking back at the car he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He put down the basket and looked through his phone for something. “Are we stopping here?” “One sec, I have to check.” “What’s the difference between here and 5 feet away?” “You’ll see, but I have to make sure we’re in the right spot.” He put his phone back in his pocket, took 8 steps forward, turned back towards me and grinned, “here.” “Fair enough,” I walked over.

He laid out the blanket, put the basket on it. I hadn’t seen him pack the basket; I actually only saw it for the first time when he picked me up today.

He opened the basket and pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses. I sat down and started pouring. “Shit, give me one second,” and before I realized what was happening, he was running back towards the car. I took this opportunity to sneak a peak in the basket. Chocolate covered strawberries, little triangle-cut sandwiches, a little bin of grapes, some crackers- “no peaking!,” he yelled as he made his way back to me. “Too late babe.”

He was carrying four pillows and dropped them when he came over. “What are these for?” “Comfort, we might have the blanket, but it won’t be comfortable without the pillows.” “Yea, I guess I could’ve put that together.” “I mean if you had an idea of doing more, the pillows will definitely help,” another wink.

He had all the makings of a douchebag, on the surface level. He has that superiorly confident look to him. The way he walks, he doesn’t think he’s better than anyone, but that’s the vibe you get from him if you judge him solely based on looks. If you saw him on the street you might think he was the biggest fuckboy on the planet, but then you talk to him.

He’s goofy, in the best way. He’s smart. You wouldn’t think it, but he’s better at quick mental math than anyone I’ve met, and he knows geography like he’s traveled the entire world himself. He likes to talk about anything and everything. On our first date we spent an hour talking about different birds we’d both seen, and our favorites. He likes loons because they sound funny, I like bluebirds because of their beautiful color. I didn’t have much interest in birds until that conversation. Now every time I see a bluebird I think of him. My family went on vacation last month and we rented a lake house. Every morning I’d hear the loon calling and think of that smile.

“Hey you, whatcha thinking about?,” he poked my cheek, I snapped out of my zoned out state, “you.” He turned away a little but I saw the blush creeping onto his cheeks. He had pulled everything out of the basket and tossed it to the side. “Grapes?,” he offered, holding one up in front of my mouth, I opened, and he placed it in my mouth gently, like it was fragile. The sun was starting to set, that’s when I realized there were no lights around. All we had was a tiny lantern he had pulled out of the basket. The view we had of the sunset was incredible, I hadn’t kept track of time on the drive here, so I really had no idea how far outside of the city we were. “How much research did you do exactly?” “Alright to be fair I asked a buddy if he knew any romantic spots and after I got him to quit joking about sex, he gave me a few. Then I googled them and found this place.” “It’s beautiful.” “Not as beautiful as you.” “Oh hush-,” he interrupted me with a kiss.

We ate as the sun set, starting the strawberries just as the last bits of golden light dipped below the horizon. He turned on the lantern.

The glow lit up his face, he was really handsome. His skin looked so smooth and he had those long eyelashes that all guys have, it made me jealous. That smile, again. He kissed me, again. He shut the lantern off while we were kissing. He pulled the pillows over and put them behind us, he laid back and spread his arm out. I laid down and put my head on his arm.

He kissed the top of my head, “Sirius,” he pointed toward the star. “Glad you remembered,” I teased. Another wink. He pointed up again, “look.” As I glanced up, there was a light that shot across the sky. “A shooting star. I’ve never seen one,” he was staring in awe. “Make a wish.” “I don’t need to, I have you.” I rolled my eyes, “you are such a cheeseball.”

We laid there pointing out the different stars and constellations. “You’ve been studying,” I glanced up at him. “I wanted to impress you,” he stated, followed by another kiss. I’ve never seen the stars so bright and clear. “Is this why you were so stingy about the spot?” He looked down at me, “I needed to make sure the view was clear so we could see everything.” Like I said, he’s not a huge romantic, but he has his moments. We kept watching the stars in the most comfortable silence. Then, almost as if he let it slip out accidentally, he whispered, “I am so in love with you.” I waited to see if he’d say anything else, but he was quiet, a nervous quiet. “Ditto,” I giggled and glanced up at him. And, without fail, there it was again, that smile.

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

Okay be nice! It's my first work, and like I said- I don't consider myself to be much of a writer. I hope you guys like it, I kept thinking about the idea and wanted to give it a shot! I purposely left names and too-specific details out so people can think of whoever they'd like, and hey! feel free to add the person you thought of to the tags if you reblog, I love stuff like that! Maybe I'll write more if people like it enough :)

If you like it please give it a like and reblog, it would be much appreciated!

[mintugiyuu]

> here’s the final part of your request @kyojoroo ! I’m so sorry it’s in two different parts, but I learned for the first time that these text boxes have a limit lmao, again I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night! <3

༄ we have to stop meeting like this - continued

sfw one-shot

➥ pairing || rengoku kyojurou x reader

➥ au || modern day; college

➥ warnings || cheesy, tooth-rotting fluff with extra cheese

➥ synopsis || the reader keeps bumping into the one and only rengoku kyojurou; only instead of just casually seeing him over and over again, they quite literally bump into him in the most inconvenient ways possible. (cont.)

➥ part one || click here!

༄ the mediterranean sea collection - masterlist

Today had to be one of the worst days in your life. Freezing, drenched, and newly homeless, you tucked yourself onto the bus stop bench. Lucky you, this one didn't even have an awning to protect you from the elements.

The rain had no pity for your predicament as it pelted your body, the light clothing doing close to nothing for you. Summer had just come, yet the night rainfall seemed to have brought an unexpected chill.

Not to mention the suitcase and duffle bag you had with you were now also getting soaked.

You could only hope nothing was too waterlogged.

Your hand did little to protect your dying phone from getting wet as you tried to search for the nearest place to stay. Motel, hotel, air B'N'B; anything in range to get you off the streets for the night.

You had a feeling this would happen, and boy were kicking yourself for not seeing the red flags and preparing sooner.

Not having enough savings for a dorm, you had signed a contract with the residents of an apartment to rent out one of the rooms for cheap.

The agreement only lasted for two semesters, but they had promised that you'd be able to renew it once summer rolled around.

"Promise my ass." You grumbled, remembering how the original owner had gotten a partner. In return, they refused to let you sign another contract so they would have space for the "love of their life".

You saw the signs; you saw how their stuff slowly moved into the apartment and all the time they were spending there.

You just didn't think they'd be shitty enough people to kick you out the moment your contract ended.

A gust of icy wind rolled through, causing another shudder to rack your body. The closest place wasn't in walking distance, and it was far to late for the buses to be running. Sighing, you shut off your phone and closed your eyes.

You had resigned yourself to walk the several blocks to the nearest 24/7 fast food place to at least get out of the rain.

That was until the rain fall suddenly stopped beating down on you. The rain couldn't have stopped though, you could still hear it. You blinked your eyes open and looked up, surprised to what - or more accurately, who - you saw.

"...Kyojurou?"

Standing there in all his warmth and glory, Kyojurou looked down at you with concern, holding a bright red umbrella over your soaked form.

He couldn't seem to help the small smile that graced his lips at the sound of his first name.

"I'd be happier that you finally used my name if you didn't look so sad and drenched."

A humorless snort escaped your lips as you hugged yourself, shivering slightly. "Timing always has my side doesn't it? I'm just about to head to the closest food place to get out of the rain, so don't worry about it."

"Why?"

"I got kicked out," you shrugged, looking to the ground.

"This late at night?"

"It surprised me too. They found a new roommate and wouldn't let me renew my contract for the next school year, and it just so happens it ended tonight." There was a hint of bitterness in your tone, one that was completely understandable.

Kyojurou's brows furrowed. "They didn't give you a heads up? A two week notice?"

"I'm just lucky they let me pack all of my stuff before I had to leave." You continued to look down at the ground, not seeing the way Kyojurou's face contorted ever so slightly.

He didn't get mad often, but whoever your old roommates are were now on his shit list

"Well that's a shitty thing to do," he stated bluntly, causing you to sputter and blink dumbly at him.

It's been almost a year since you've met the blonde, and in all that time you never once heard him say a single bad word.

"Did you just curse??"

He pretended not to hear, pulling out his own phone to see the time as you mulled over the fact that this sweet ray of sunshine just called someone shitty.

Expression neutralizing as he schemed, he turned back to you. "You don't have to stay in a fast food place for the night."

"Huh?? Are you suggesting I sleep in a box?"

The man smiled, resting a reassuring hand on top of your shoulder, frustration forgotten for now. "You can stay with me!"

"What now?"

Chuckling, he passed the umbrella off to you to hold, beginning to slip his arms out of the jacket he wore. "You can stay with me for the time being until you get back on your feet! Well, us. If you wanted to of course! Sanemi just moved out, so we're looking for a new one regardless."

Baffled at the sudden offer, you started to shake your head, forming the words to decline him. It was too big of a favor, how could you accept that?

He was one step ahead of you, as he always is.

"Before you say anything, no, it would not be any trouble, you're a joy to have around! We can settle the nitty gritty later, let's just get you out of the cold."

"Wait, Kyojurou," you were silenced by a heavy warmth that suddenly engulfed your upper body, including your sight. Moving the fabric from your eyes, you realized it was his jacket.

His once dry clothes was slowly becoming just as soaked as you were as he took back the umbrella, insistently keeping it solely above you.

The gentle way he smiled in combination with the light post that shined behind his head had you convinced he was your guardian angel in disguise.

You hesitantly pulled the jacket closer to your body, not being able to deny how relieving the warmth felt. "But, won't you be cold?"

"My insides are practically pocket heaters, it takes a lot for me to be cold. A little wind and rain won't do anything to me, I promise! Now come on, before you get sick," he insisted as he grabbed your bag, throwing them over his shoulder.

"Little" was an understatement, but you didn't have the energy to argue. It was the middle of the night and you could feel your eyes starting to droop.

Grabbing your luggage to role behind, you let the other wrap his free arm around your form, hand resting on your arm. "Thank you, truly I don't know where to start showing how grateful I am. I owe you big time."

"Never refer to me as Rengoku-san again and I'll call it even!"

A wobbly smile tugged at your lips as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you down the route to his apartment. "You have a deal then, Kyojurou."

The weather broadcasters warned everyone about heavy snowfall, but you couldn’t help but think they could’ve prepared everyone a bit more as you stared out your window and could only see the shadow of snow.

Thank the gods above it was winter break or they’d have to cancel classes, which would just be tuition money flushed down the shitter.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door of the bedroom you were in, which was odd because the door was open.

Low and behold, it was your sweetheart of a boyfriend, holding two mugs and using his foot to knock. “I brought hot coco!”

"You don't have to knock, this is your room you dork."

"Our room technically, my dear." He responded smoothly, shutting the door with his foot behind him as he made his way to you.

"Careful not to spill it," he winked, laughing slightly as he handed you your mug.

"Just for that I should," you scoffed playfully, sticking your tongue out at him as you took the drink. The smile on his face was nothing but adoring, finding you to be adorable. You had to look away to dismiss the butterflies that swarmed in your tummy. “Looks like we’re snowed in for a bit. The snow is above the windows.”

Kyojurou hummed in agreement. “I still don’t understand how tiny snowflakes can become so damaging so fast!”

“You’re funny,” you chuckled, taking a sip of the hot beverage. Kyojurou always made the best hot chocolate.

“... UME! I’m glad I can be amusing!” You couldn't hold down the snort at the realization that he wasn't joking, swallowing and shaking your head. You granted him mercy and switched the subject.

“What are the others up to?”

Kyojurou leaned against the sill next to you, shoulder bumping yours affectionately. “Tengen is in the living room playing video games with his girlfriends, Mitsuri is watching a movie in her room and Obanai is watching with her. I think she's also painting his nails from the conversation I overheard while passing by."

“I see.”

The both of you were leaning against the window sill, basking in the comfortable silence. It wasn't common in an apartment full of unique roommates.

Even now you both could hear the loud victory cheer of Suma as Tengen groaned in defeat.

Taking another sip of your drink, you hummed, lifting your head to face Kyojurou. You were going to say something, but that was forgotten as you covered your mouth with your fingers as to not laugh suddenly.

"Hm? Is something wrong?" Your poor oblivious lover had a whipped cream mustache. He tilted his head at you - not unlike an owl - seemingly confused to your sudden shift in expression. You swallowed your laughter down as you placed your drink onto the sill, stepping closer to the blonde.

"No, nothing's wrong. You just have a little something rigghtt..." you reached out to grip his chin gently, swiping your thumb across his top lip to collect the whipped cream. "-there, all gone!"

A pretty, bright red color spread across Kyojurou’s face, wide eyes blinking owlishly at you with his mouth slightly agape. Laughing quietly at his reaction, you licked the cream off your thumb, patting the side of his cheek teasingly.

"You'll catch flies, hun." A click of teeth could be heard as he closed his mouth.

"RIGHT!" He stopped himself to clear his throat, turning to face the window as his usual smile reappeared, though a bit wobbly. "Thank you!"

All you did was hum, a slight mischievous smirk settling onto your face. You were set to happily go back to your drink when you shivered, the chill of the room finally reaching you through your clothes.

Kyojurou caught it from the corner of his eye, turning back to you. “Are you cold?”

You waved him off, shaking your head. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, you'll just get another sweatshirt.

“I’ll be ok. The hot coco will warm me up in- WOAH!” That plan was thrown out the window when he suddenly scooped you up into his broad arms, smiling determinedly.

"You're not allowed to just continue on being cold, not if I can help it!" The firey man plopped you down onto your shared bed, quickly gathering the collection of fluffy blankets you have accumulated over time.

In the blink of an eye, you were neatly swaddled in said blankets and being held gently to your boyfriend's warm chest. He settled underneath the main blanket, wrapping his strong arms around your body.

“Is that better?” He beamed at you, looking oh so proud of himself.

What did you do to deserve him?

"Much," you all but groaned, snuggling your face into the warmth of his chest. It was like cuddling a big warm marshmallow. “I still can’t understand how you’re so warm.”

“I’m a living-breathing heater, my dear. I’ve explained this before, I’m sure of it.”

You snorted, leaning into his hand as he began to run his fingers through your hair. “I’m not complaining, you’re good to keep around for whenever my hands freeze.”

“I wouldn’t mind one bit," his voice came out softly, planting a warm kiss to onto your forehead. This in turn caused you to melt even further into him, burying your face into his shirt.

Kyojurou laughed with amusement as he turned on the television, looking for something for the two of you to watch for the rest of the evening. You eventually peaked your head out to look at him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Hey, Kyojurou?”

“Yes?”

All of his attention was on you. Even in these small moments he looks at you as though you're the most precious human being in the world. And to him, you were.

You hummed, placing a kiss onto his chin. “I’m happy I spilled my drink all over you.”

The small peck had similar effects from the whipped cream incident earlier, though he seemed to snap out of it quicker this time. He smiled brighter, cupping your cheek with his large, warm hand.

“That's an odd way of saying I love you."

This made you pause, the 'L-word' not being used between the two of you yet. “Wait, what?"

He gave you no time to question further as he placed a kiss onto your lips in return, his other hand finding the small of your back to pull you closer.

The initial shock of being kissed faded quickly, your arms finding their way around his neck as you pulled yourself closer. The kiss was short and sweet, yet the passion that Kyojurou lived by was always present.

The kiss came to a pause with you laying on top of his chest, remote forgotten and blankets wrapped around you as you steadied your breathing.

Kyojurou's eyes crinkled slightly with his smile, brushing the back of his hand across your cheek.

"I love you too."

[critical-goat]

Demon Brothers and What Sets Them Apart From Other Demons (headcanons)

AKA me over analyzing random headcanons about their powers; it’s 6AM and I’ve been up for 24 hours, let’s go (this is also incomplete because I don’t have one for every brother, no it’s not favoritism)

also, uhhh. fuckin spoilers for pretty much everything. I’ll be mentioning stuff from very early in the game as well as stuff in much later game. I also ended up ranting about more than their powers.

Lucifer

- His magic; I know that sounds weird, but magic users among demons is apparently rare. Satan explains this mid 2nd season during the study session (from my memory at least) and that has just. Stuck itself to my brain ever since. While all demons are magical in nature, not all of them naturally control or have magic

- His magic is likely a combination of older Celestial magics as well as Infernal, something he accomplishes given his status as a fallen angel. It gives his magical signature a very unique feel to it

- Lucifer seems to know everything that happens in the House of Lamentation, even if there’s no possible way for him to know. My theory? He has meticulously set up magic to help him keep an eye on things while he is around and away from Lamentation. (Originally read this from one of ThalFox’s theory posts and it lives in my head rent free. Please go check them out)

- Lucifer is particularly skilled with wards, given that he was able to curse a staircase from allowing either demons or angels from being able to access and has some degree of skill in illusion magic, as it had surprised Belphegor that MC had been able to see him without magical help

Mammon

- So most of the fandom seems to know that Mammon has a unique connection to his familiars that the other brothers either don’t have or don’t show off; at the very least he is able to communicate with them, however it is unlikely also possible this ability goes as far as to be able to hear or see things from the perspective of his familiars which is arguably a lot cooler

- An add on to this connection: I actually do not believe that this is common knowledge to anyone outside of Mammon and Lucifer, as the chat it is revealed in Mammon had used this power to spy on the prince of hell, something I highly doubt he would have been able to pull off if such an ability was known

- I like the idea that Mammon is really good at mimicry, both impersonating people and replicating any random noise he’s heard

- Probably the quickest and most agile demon in all of the Devildom, and certainly is among the brothers

- Gets his rank as the 2nd strongest likely from the amount of self control and restraint he has compared to literally the rest of his brothers. If he shows any amount of power, it’s on purpose and you should be concerned.

Asmodeus

- The ability to charm people is not unique to Asmo in the way that only he can do it, as apparently this seems to be a trait most demons possess, but rather, how easily and how completely he is able to charm others

- Literally as soon as he is introduced, MC is warned not to look him in the eyes because he can and will bend your mind as he sees fit. And MC’s immunity is noted very quickly, hinting that the effect on lesser beings (or at least non magical ones) is immediate

- To a lesser extent, he is able to influence the mood of those around him with his presence alone; probably has a calming effect and might explain why he sees to get in trouble with Lucifer so little (also the fact he doesn’t generally do anything to piss the eldest off)

- His domain extends over more than just physical, carnal lust. It’s a side of Asmo less known and rarely seen, but there is a deeply hidden part of Asmo that has an insatiable blood lust. Whether it’s to keep up his reputation or because it gets messy and makes him less presentable, the only people who’ve seen this side of him likely died shortly after (I have very flimsy proof of this one, but after the reveal of the Belphie situation, he says he wants to carve open MC’s heart and see what makes them tick. He seemed seriously so that’s a no from me, never want to see directly ever again)

Belphegor

- Belphie just emanates a very calm, and soothing aura.... whenever he puts the effort into projecting it, which isn’t often. He just cannot be bothered most of the time. This is probably why MC was so stupidly trusting of him.

- It also makes him impossibly more tired when he does use it

- Has easy control of dreams, but only over others dreams. The closest he can come to controlling his own dreams would be lucid dreaming, which is disturbingly easy for him to accomplish

- A dream walker, able to project himself into the dreams of others if he so desires or simply watch as an outsider; this is how he was able to first grab MC’s attention and bring their attention to the attic

- As the weakest of the 7, it is likely that his abilities are more easily shrugged off by his brothers if not outright ignored

- If the subject is weak enough of will, Belphie could direct his victim in a sort of sleep walking trance so long as he could keep them asleep enough

- Rather than charming the viewer, anyone who stares into his eyes will instead be lulled to sleep or become very, very sleepy

[bukojuiice]

rose-colored boy

ೃ pairing: (eren jaeger x fem! reader)

ೃ  tags: college/modern au, fluff, humor, love at first sight cliché, mikasa is your cute little sister, armin, sasha, jean, and connie are your besties, and eren is a himbo who works hard and has terrible friends.

ೃ warnings: strong language and mild suggestive content

ೃ part 1/??? of my (eren x reader) college au!

��� word count: 3000 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist 

ೃ This is my very first snk x reader fic! so i hope you bear with some errors! qwq 

i’ve been following the anime ever since it was released in 2013, and this is the first time i’m  going to be writing for it.  this month’s manga chapter really took me out so why not channel my sadness thru writing an fluff! eren fic? 🤧 i hope you enjoy either way!

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ  in which (Y/N) (L/N), 20, still in school, and regretfully-unregretfully-her little girl scout sister's assistant, meets eren jaeger in an embarrassing too innocent door-to-door cookie sale whilst a humiliating party was going on.

cookies, suspicious maybe-maybe-not pot brownies, meddling little sisters and friends, “oh my god they were roommates” vine on replay 24/7, homework, tears, and fairy lights bring them together.

“I’m going to enter now.”

“Ahhh yes, please!”

“Shut up, please.” Eren muttered to himself as he tossed and turned around in his bed, but still couldn’t get to sleep. “When will they ever stop doing this?” Why did Eren’s next-door roommate and his girlfriend have to do this five times a day? They had a lot of stamina for 21-year-olds who didn’t have anything better to do.

Eren’s thoughts eventually brought him to his parents.

His parents- did they even exist?

For pretty much 14 years of Eren’s life, they had been out of town or out of the country. His older brother, Zeke, blonde, bespectacled, tall, and sometimes too far up his own ass older brother who Eren is able to confide in from time to time, recently got a girlfriend whom he’s hopelessly in love with (they’re even thinking about getting married which isn’t really a problem since the girl is genuinely nice to his older brother so Eren is good with her.), so… things in the family had been a bit rough and busy to say the least.

Communication with his parents wasn’t always the best.

Eren would study late at night back when he was seven, because no one bothered to help him with homework. Along with the fact that he wasn’t the brightest kid in class, and he knew that very well, but he had ambition and he was determined to make it big in the world. He focused more on sports, particularly Soccer in middle school and high school, and tried to balance that with his studies.  After being granted a Sports Scholarship from Shigashina University, Eren decided to rent and share a flat, living with his batchmates who he met at a mixer party (before Uni started as this whole meet and get to know each other kind of thing) and whom he was so quick to call his ‘friends’, just so that he could get out of the hellhole that was his own house.

But things turned out much worse than expected.

Eren thought that the ‘College Life’ was to focus more on pursuing your future career and make a name for yourself but… it was the other way around.

He thought that after Freshmen year, everyone would take things seriously. Sure, have some drinks, get wasted after finals, or have house parties from time to time. But he was unfortunately, dragged into the wrong crowd. After attending around 5 parties in the first few months of being generalized as one of the infamous and pompous freshman archetypes present in every university, he called it a year and spent the rest of his nights doing homework, projects, playing video games, staying at the school soccer field until 10PM while his roommates were probably smoking crack and not caring about the number of units they needed to take for each of their goddamn subjects.

 He was ~living the life~ and now that he regrets most of the decisions he made in freshman year, the only option that he has left was to wait until his third year and move to a different apartment.  

 Now, here he was, Sophomore year, nearing the end of the semester, and very much eager to get the hell out of here and also study for his upcoming finals on Constitutional Law II, as his professor, Mr. Erwin Smith, was going to throw hands if one of his students score below average on the exam.

 “EREN MICK JAEGER! BROOOO!” Eren winces when he hears the shrieky and annoying voice of his flatmate Thomas Wagner, calling out to him. “Wanna go and party with us?” Eren smiles halfheartedly, shaking his head, “Ah, no thanks. I have a game tomorrow and finals coming up on Thursday.” Thomas smirked and wrapped his arm around Eren, “Oh fuck that, live the college life ya spoon.”

“No, really I have to study.”

Thomas frowned and groaned, “Oh god, you’re such a killjoy. Fine, if that’s what you want. Don’t blame us if we tell you to buy some beer down the block.”

Eren cracked an obviously fake laugh and pushed Thomas away from him, “You’re an ass. That only happened once and that was when we first met. Don’t you even dare try to ask me to buy you shit again.”

“Woah. Woah. Woaaaaaah. That was a joke Eren. Loosen up will you?” Thomas raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the brunette’s sudden aggressiveness. He hums Moves like Jaeger by Maroon 5 as a way to spite Eren whilst passing by him down the staircase.

The brunette shook his head, tying his hair into a bun carelessly and sprinting into his room without uttering another word.

Eren just wanted to study. He really did.

Instead, his roommates, all of them, mind you, were all partying in the lounge and the music was too loud and Eren was too annoyed.

They did manage to bring him out and make him stay in the kitchen where he mindlessly glared at anyone who came in. He sighed and tapped his pen restlessly amongst the insane amount of books on the table.

There was a knock.

His roommate, Floch, came in the kitchen with his girlfriend who Eren couldn’t even name with all the women he has brought into the apartment. She was hanging onto his arm and giggling. Floch’s eyes were red and his speech very slow and lazy. "Eren!" he said with a sly grin.

Eren raised an eyebrow, shooting him an irritated look. "What now Floch? Are you here to tell me to take a shot again?" The ginger-haired’s girlfriend giggled once again and kissed Floch’s cheek. Floch laughed and swatted her away, though he missed by a long shot. "Someone's at the door," a thumb pointing to the den. "wouldchumind ge'in it?" another giggle. The girl nodded sloshily. "Yesss! Erenieee get 'em door, please. Be a dearrrrr."

Eren frowned and stared at them menacingly, earning no reaction from the two as they were mad drunk. "You were just in the den," Floch’s eyes widened. "My lovey wovey-we was in the den?" His girlfriend’s mouth went into an O. "Di'nt notice tha'!"

Eren sighed and stood up. He miraculously got through the throng of bodies and to the front door. "Yes?" he called out exasperated, not knowing who was outside.

"Do you want cookies?"

Eren turned and looked to see a little raven-haired girl, a girl scout no less, a blonde-haired boy pulling on a trolley who looked significantly shorter than him, wearing rimmed glasses, and an overall appearance whom his “friends” would immediately label as a nerd they had to be a few feet away from if they saw him and lastly, a girl who looked very tired and very done with life.

Beautiful (h/c)-colored hair, her eyes looked like the starry night sky, twinkling as he catches her gaze and a smile that looked forced, but warm all the same.  

A girl who was just absolutely fucking gorgeous.

Eren was captivated. His heart was beating like crazy and he could feel his ears turn red. He would make a fool of himself if he looked red as a tomato right now.

"Um," The girl peeked inside and grimaced, squeezing the hand that was her little sister's shoulder and catching Eren’s gaze. "Mikasa, I don't think these kinds of guys would want cookies."

“Unless they're pot cookies,” Eren almost said. Mikasa pouted and widened her eyes at Eren.

The older girl crouched down and frantically covered her little sister’s eyes. "Nopenopenope, Mi, don't pull that on him."

"But (Y/N)!"

(Y/N).

Her name was (Y/N).

Eren smiled sincerely (for the first time today) and leaned back inside to the drawer by the door to grab the extra cash he and his roommates put there for emergency pizza and stuff. "You know what? You're absolutely brilliant at selling cookies. I'll take one."

Mikasa smiled back at him cheekily and tugged her older sister’s hand. "See, (Y/N)?! He wants some! Go get 'em!”

The raven-haired girl then turned to the blonde teen, practically jumping up and down. “Armin look! We sold another one!"

“We did!” The boy who was apparently named Armin, clapped his hands together, then gave the little girl a high five. “You’re a natural at this Mikasa!”

(Y/N) looked at Eren, then Mikasa, and sighed. She grabbed a bag from the trolley Armin was dragging around and pulled out a box of cookies. Eren grabbed them slowly from her, their hands almost touching as he gave (Y/N) a small smile. The (h/c) girl blushed lightly, though not visible enough for the brunette to notice.

"Hope to see you again!" Eren called out when the siblings said their thank you's and bid farewell.

And, this time, even for the slightest moment, Eren’s serotonin levels were going straight through the roof. His heart was still beating loudly, almost in sync with the trash music his roommates were blaring on the speakers. and for a moment, even just for a moment. 

He felt genuine happiness that he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

 The three of you continue to walk animatedly, now that the coast was clear and the guy from earlier wasn’t within earshot, your blonde friend just had to break the silence.

 Armin smiles, pushing his glasses up to the crook of his nose. “(Y/N), you did see how he looked at you right?” The blonde chuckles softly, catching his best friend off guard.

 You blinked. “Him?” You try to stop yourself from smiling, blushing profusely. “Geez Armin, I don’t even know his name yet.”

 “I’ll bet you 100 bucks that he goes to our Uni.”

 “Even if he does, it’s not like we’ll talk to him or anything. Judging from the place he lives in and the people he was hanging out with, we’re in two completely different worlds.” You shook your head in denial, holding Mikasa’s hand, your interlocked arms swinging playfully. Armin gives you a knowing look in response.

 Mikasa continued to wave back at the boy whom they had just sold cookies too. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Wasn’t he nice (Y/N)?” Mikasa asks her older sister. (Y/N) returned her sister a small smile, “He was.”

 "I hope we see him again!"

"I'm sure we will."

 The day of Eren’s dreaded finals finally arrive.

He has prepared tirelessly for this. Hours upon hours of hard work. But, before he finally gets his well-deserved sleep, he has a few more hours to cram and absorb more knowledge for his exams.

So, what better way to do so than head straight to the library as soon as it opens at 6 AM?

This time, no one was going to bother him. No annoying roommates and no distractions.

Eren heads over to a table near the coffee and snack machines. He puts down his bag on a seat next to him, and begins to study once again. Looking through the course materials and the lessons that he still didn’t quite understand. Eren was so absorbed with studying and relying on his gut feeling that no other student in this university would think of going to the library at 6 AM on the day of finals… then he’s wrong. Very wrong. 

 “Sasha, should you even be eating mashed potato this early in the morning?” Armin asks the brunette worriedly, a huge tone of concern in his voice.

“Armin! Don’t chu worry! I ate heavy breakfast! Bacon, Eggs, and Toast! Did you not see me in the kitchen!?” She reassures her blonde friend, continuing to scoop up the mashed potato on a reusable cup.

“Liar.” Connie hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I was awake since 4 AM. Not once did I see you sneak into the kitchen until (Y/N) woke you up.”

“Atatata. Can we… stop with the negative vibes for a second?” Jean tries to become the mediator by holding his hands up against his two friends who were about to start an argument. “It’s finals week. We have to keep a clear mind, body and soul-“

“Jean, you know that’s BS.” You yawn widely, still practically half-asleep.

“Oh, come on! Can’t you just let me be positive just this once!? If we fail this exam I’m going to blame you!“

The five of you continue to talk mindlessly on the way to the library. Connie pushes the glass door open, very much excited to have this huge library all to yourselves.

Until…

There was someone already there.

Your eyes immediately come into contact with Eren’s. His radiant jade eyes staring into yours, mouth practically agape, his hands holding on to wooden chopsticks as the hot air of instant ramen breezes through his face.

“Oh?” Connie blinks. “Guess we aren’t the first ones here then.” He whistles.

“(Y/N)!” Armin nudges you in the arm in an attempt to tease you. “Guess your wish came true huh? We did see him again! By himself too!”

“W-what am I supposed to do exactly?” You turn to Armin, speaking in a hushed whisper.  

“Say thank you to him! Offer him to go on a boba date or something!”

“You got the Sasha seal of approval (Y/N)! He’s hot!” Sasha motions you a thumbs up and you can’t help but feel yourself already wanting to die of embarrassment.

The four of them slightly push you towards his table. With your friends cornering you like this, there was no way of escaping this.

All you had to do was talk to him and properly thank him for buying cookies from your little sister.

That was it.

No need for any extra ad-libs or poor and bad attempts of flirtation.

Just thank him (Y/N).

You can do this.

You breathe a hefty sigh then approach his table with confidence. The brunette continues to look up at you whilst turning the page of his reviewer that he wasn’t even looking at.

“Hi again! I just wanted to thank you properly for helping my sister and I, out the other day. Mikasa really appreciated the gesture you did for her, and she couldn’t stop talking about you to our parents since we saw you. You see, none of the other girl scouts want to be paired up with my sister because they think she’s an emotionless and monotonous freak. They’re really mean to her but she really wants to continue being a girl scout so my friend and I accompany her whenever she has to sell cookies!”

“It’s N-no problem!” Eren quickly replies, running a hand through his hair. “Why would they say such horrible things to your sister like that? Judging from the way she acted in front of me, she was quite the opposite. In a positive way of course! Those kids are just assholes who are intimidated because another girl their age is seemingly better than them.”

You giggle in response. “Thank you. I’ll tell Mikasa that you said that!” 

There was short silence for a few seconds until you realized that you forgot to say something. 

“Ah! I’m (Y/N) (L/N) by the way!”

“Eren.” He smiles, reaching his hand out to you for you to shake. You grip his strong and calloused hand firmly, and Eren could feel his ears turning red again while you were about to blush as red as a tomato.

You hear your friends snickering in the background and you took this as a sign to go back to your table. “I guess, I’ll see you around campus?” You ask, tilting your head. For, you actually really wanted to see him again after this.

“Yea! I’ll be seeing you!” He grins widely, watching you leave where he was seated. His smile then envelops into a frown as soon as you went away then he goes back to studying.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Connie whispers loudly, calling you over by waving his hand. Why was this dunce being so painfully obvious? “Ask him if he’s looking for an apartment or if he wants to live with us!”

“Already!?” You ask in disbelief, a bit shocked by what Connie had just said. He scoots to the left, as you take a seat between him and Sasha. “Guys, you’ve known him for like… 3 minutes. Only Armin and I actually interacted with him before this.”

“He has to pass the vibe check first.” Jean shrugs, sipping on an iced expresso. “But, yeah, he does seem alright from a few feet away.”

“Come on (Y/N)! Ask him!” Sasha nods approvingly. “It’s weird that he’s studying alone like this while we’re in another table trying to remain unaware that he looks lonely as hell.”

“UMmMM… maybe he wants to study alone because that’s the only way he can focus? That’s a thing that normal people do, Sasha.” You remark sarcastically, trying to think up of more reasons to not approach him again.

Armin clears his throat, “Look, (Y/N), it won’t hurt to try right? Besides, don’t you feel a tiny bit sorry for him? He does seem lonely and you do have a crush on him so… more ways to interact with him right?”

Your shoulders slump and you breathe a defeated sigh. “Okay okay fine.” You make your way to Eren’s table again but before you do, you turn to your friends. “By the way, I don’t really have a crush on him just yet. I just find him cute okay?”

“Yeah yeah.” They say in unison as you continue to walk back to the brunette’s table.

“Hi again Eren!” You wave and try your best not to fumble or look painfully obvious that you were infatuated by him. He looks up and you try your best not to smile like a weirdo.

“Hm?” He hums.

“Would you like to come over to our table and study with us?”

To be continued.

[nevermindirah]

Dorothy Freeman facts

By facts I of course mean headcanons, because Nile's mom doesn't get a first name in canon (or even confirmation that her last name is Freeman). All we know about her is the picture on Nile's phone lock screen (which is Kiki Layne's real-life mom and brother!) and a few lines that Nile tells Andy about her. I’ve been collecting my Dorothy headcanons for a while now to eventually make a post, and @mprosperossprite​‘s excellent post giving non-Americans context for what it means that Nile is from the South Side of Chicago prompted me to go ahead and share this. Disclaimer that I’m white and I will absolutely make corrections if it’s pointed out that I’ve caused harm with any of this.

So here have some fun facts about the version of Mama Freeman who lives in my head rent-free:

Her family and growing up:

she was born in the mid-'60s and named after Dorothy Dandridge

I can’t decide whether she was born in Chicago or moved there later on (maybe with Nile’s dad?) and when in the waves of the Great Migration her family left the South

she came of age in the "post"-Civil Rights movement and went to college in the mid-80s when a lot of what are now the foundational classics of Black feminism were being written

she was a young adult when Anita Hill risked so much to report that a Supreme Court nominee had sexually harassed her, and as a result she HATES Joe Biden

Marriage and babies:

she met Nile's father — I can’t decide how they met and I have two competing headcanons for his name, either Gideon for the hefty Biblical masculinity vibes (Giddy for short among family, that man loved to laugh) or Carl, which started out as a shitty Carl’s Jr burger chain joke that turns out to be perfect (it means free man!), and @knoepfchen​ used it in the sequel to if you do take a thief where Carl is alive!! — and Dorothy was a little skeptical of his near-religious devotion to the military but he was really hot and really devoted to her and they made it work

she's a little pissed that she was right but it's unbearable if she thinks about it too often

it's going to be a long, long time before she can look back on pictures of Baby Nile stomping around the house in her dad's combat boots (this is a Gina Prince Bythewood headcanon, whyyyyyyyy can I not find a link to where she said this)

she named their second baby Indus, Indy for short (this is nearly as established fanon in Book of Nile circles as how much Booker loves eating pussy, and Indy Freeman as a young adult is portrayed by either Aldis Hodge or John Boyega I don’t make the rules)

Work:

Dorothy did some office jobs but nothing really grabbed her, and she was probably gonna have to move for her husband's career, so she decided on teaching — high school humanities

she’s been active in CTU (one of the strongest teacher’s unions in the US) her whole career and one year she was on the bargaining committee and her babies know damn well never to trust a boss, not even one who says all the right things — if she ever finds out the way Nile said "like Quynh?" when Andy promised to protect her, she will lose her mind with pride

(Nile was 18 and freshly graduated from high school in 2012 when CTU went on strike for the first time in a generation and she brought her mom snacks on the picket line)

one of her very favorite things is getting her students to laugh despite themselves at her "oh my GOD you're so EMBARRASSING" old-people jokes

she's one of those teachers who can get 30+ teenagers to go dead silent with judicious application of body language

she's known to occasionally go easy on grading subjective things like essays when she knows students are having a particularly rough time at home, but the second she gets the feeling they're taking advantage and not trying their best that shit is over and they better mind their Ps & Qs

she's the kind of person who says old-people shit like that

she gives her students assignments like "help 5 neighbors register to vote" and "write a compare/contrast table about the candidates in this local election" and "research 5 different ways you could get grant money to do X" and other practical civic-minded shit

standardized testing is her supervillain origin story, just kidding it’s Rahm Emanuel, why the fuck did Obama trust that asshole

After her husband died:

she would have lost her goddamn mind if it weren't for her church friends after her husband died, people from the church raised money so they could make ends meet while his pension paperwork was taking forever, church friends watched Indy so Nile could go out for the soccer team, etc etc

she sold her and her late husband's house and moved to a 3-bedroom co-op unit when Nile started high school, it's more affordable and it meant she didn't have to worry about household repairs in the same way, she can use a wrench if she needs to but she doesn't have time and it just makes her grief flare up (co-op housing has a long history in Chicago and other US cities (like Washington DC where I live) as a way for Black people to access decent, affordable housing in the face of entrenched discrimination)

the move meant putting a longer commute between her and church, but she didn't even bother looking for a church closer to their new home, she loaded the kids into the car on the weekends, parking is hell in their new neighborhood but it's worth giving up a hard-won parking spot to not have to wait so long for the L on Sunday mornings

Indy lived with her through college and he was gearing up to get his own place when Nile died, Dorothy was planning to move into a one-bedroom in the co-op building because she doesn't need so much space anymore, Indy took a day off from his new job (not so new anymore, her baby's so grown!) to help her sort things to donate when those dress-uniform Marines came to their door

part of her wishes she could've been home more and not had to rely on Nile so much for help with Indy, but he's turned out such a kind young man, and he's a much better cook than his sister is (was, oh God — no wait, is! she’s alive! what do you mean you’ve been alive all this time??)

some of the girls from church are encouraging her to check out this social dancing thing, nobody's pressuring her to date but there's definitely been some ribbing, and with Indy out of the house... maybe? probably not, but maybe

Her feelings and beliefs and likes and dislikes:

she's an absolute badass and also she's a soft human woman with lots of feelings

she's very, very traditional in some ways, and part of her mixed feelings about Nile following in her dad's footsteps is gender stuff, she's proud of her daughter and would never stand in the way of what Nile wants to do with her life, and if Nile came home and told her she's a lesbian she would never reject her, but if Nile came home and told her she's bisexual maybe she can just try focusing on men? “I love you sweetheart and I want you to be happy I just know how hard it is already for us in this world” type shit

she has been on team natural hair basically her entire life and one of the worst fights she and Nile ever had was over Nile wanting to straighten her hair as a pre-teen

Indy takes more after her and Nile takes more after their dad, she's so proud of both of them, but Dorothy's activism was mostly wearing her natural hair to work and daring bosses to give her shit, Indy's out there marching in the streets like her parents had and she WORRIES

she teases Indy for going to so many protests like he's using it as an excuse to meet girls, but she WORRIES

when she turns 60, she gets box braids with streaks of dark purple, subtle enough that it's still work-appropriate but it makes her smile, she may be old now but damnit she’s still pretty!

she loves Grey's Anatomy and Star Trek and she watched Bridgerton all in one day

she has a dirty-old-lady celebrity crush on Chris Hemsworth

if she's ever masturbated thinking about Donna Summer, well, that's nobody's business but her own (do non-Americans know about the queen of disco??)

If you want to read fic featuring Dorothy:

I won't have to leave alone, 1000 words, Nile has a nightmare and decides to go tell her family she's immortal

I See Your Eyes Seek a Distant Shore, 65k, Nile adjusts to immortality and does a lot of soul searching about what it means to "do what we think is right", Booker goes to grad school for trauma studies, the working title of this fic was Booker Reads Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and Goes Down on Nile and the final product has an annotated bibliography in the author's notes if you’re into that kind of thing, a lot of my Dorothy Freeman headcanons were born of my process writing this

Gather round the table, we'll give you a treat, 2279 words, college AU, Nile brings her Jewish boyfriend home for Christmas

a contribution I made to Shitty Old Guard Deaths: (Booker, USA, 2025, cause of death: a mother’s righteous wrath)

[wedreamedlove]

Xu Mo vs. Mo Yi [Character Study]

I can never get over the aesthetic of these two pictures placed side by side LOL. But, anyway, the point of this post is to nip any undue comparisons in the bud and claims of copying organize my thoughts and compare these two characters to highlight their similarities, differences, and further explore each character through these contrasts.

Q) If you like Xu Mo, would you like Mo Yi?

Honestly, I think this depends on what you like most about Xu Mo. I already knew beforehand that I gravitate towards characters who think 5 steps ahead, are predominantly logical, and scholars/gentlemen, so it’s not surprising I bias both Xu Mo and Mo Yi.

However, as I got to know Mo Yi further (Themis is around 6 months old now), I find that he’s distinctively different from Xu Mo on three crucial points that’ll determine whether people from either camp will like the other character.

1) Stance on Others

In a post for Xu Mo, “Into Your World”, I argued that Xu Mo is an alienated genius who had troubles getting along with others, until he mastered the social game as an adult. However, you can still see glimpses of this as he tries to understand MC’s world and shares his own.

To be fair, Mo Yi’s past is still under wraps but I feel confident in saying that, while he was probably highly intelligent compared to his peers [SR Sculpted Heart], his isolation doesn’t seem to come from his innate nature but rather his social position (there’s heavy implications that he’s like some sort of noble or something) [SR Snowy Pine Fairytale].

IMO, these backgrounds really shaped the way these two men interact with the world.

Xu Mo has a detached and indifferent view towards other people. They simply exist and don’t bring anything positive or negative to him. His ambition to ensure the survival of humanity reflects this too because it’s pure utilitarianism; everyone (apart from MC) can be sacrificed equally for the greater good. If anything, he probably finds other people to be interesting subjects to study, no matter what kind of person they are. IIRC the only time he expressed dislike to people, or a group of people, was when he told Hades he enjoyed killing thieves LOL.

Meanwhile, Mo Yi has an elitist streak to the point where he and his MC actually clashed opinions and debated each other [SR Warm Fingertips]. It’s incredibly ironic because he’s a psychiatrist who treats his patients without judgment, but at the same time he looks down on so many things and people (PUAs, people who betray love, hypocrites who only seek power and fame) [Ch2; Personal Story Ch1-3; SSR Moonlit Ball].

One of the things I noticed early on is that Xu Mo draws from the Eastern scholar archetype, “Xu Mo Character Study”, while Mo Yi actually draws more from the Western gentleman archetype.

So, just to summarize this section, Xu Mo is detached from the world naturally and likes to observe people and try to blend in. Mo Yi deliberately draws a line between him and others and, at times, has the casual cruelty of someone born as nobility (arrogance is carved into his bones, even if he tends to keep it low-key because he generally has a “gentle and polite” attitude).

2) Stance on Love

Xu Mo didn’t understand love, or really even emotions. Love is grown between him and his MC (there’s multiple analogies throughout the game about how their love is like a seed). I think [Ch25] pretty much sums it up for Xu Mo, where he goes through that emotional rollercoaster and muses about how, at the end of human evolution, emotions should be discarded. He also admits that MC taught him the “fear” of a normal person, because now he has someone he cannot give up no matter what, which goes against his previous utilitarian beliefs.

Compared to this, Mo Yi fell in love at first sight. Yes, you read that right. The “scientist and logical” archetype fell in love at first sight LOL. Not only does he acknowledge it right off the bat, but he fully embraces it too and believes that real love makes people better versions of themselves [Personal Story]. Mo Yi is a through and through psychiatrist in that he never underestimates how primal emotions (and love) can be.

Heck, not only is this central to his personal story, but we also have hints that one of Mo Yi’s parents fell in love at first sight with the other person (and he inherited their predisposition for that). Unfortunately, their love had a tragic end and Mo Yi seems to have a huge grudge against his father for whatever happened to his mother (again, Mihoyo is keeping this a mystery LOL), but Mo Yi explicitly confirms that even if his love leads to a tragic end he will still walk down this road and attempt to change it [SR Cool Summer].

IMO one other difference between them re: love is this exchange that lives rent free in my head which I saw in a Xu Mo/Reader/Mo Yi fanfiction LOL. Bear with me here.

Mo Yi: Wearing a mask for a long time will tire you.

Xu Mo: It’s enough just to wear one in front of the necessary person.

Xu Mo and his MC make great efforts to understand each other’s worlds, but this understanding comes from the doors he chooses to open to her. He reveals himself as much as possible, but I think he’s an inherently private person (and there’s all that Ares stuff) so there are times where he hides things so that he doesn’t worry his MC. I think this is enough to count as a “mask”. Sometimes he pretends he’s okay when he’s not.

On the other hand, while I think Mo Yi shares the sentiment in not wanting his MC to worry unduly, he tries to reveal himself as much as possible. There’s an amazingly relatable conflict in him here where he wants her to know every side of him, but he’s also terrified of how she’ll react if he shows her his ugliest sides and imperfect sides (he has some sort of phobia or fear about imperfection, but Mihoyo has been keeping mum on the exact details of this so far) [Personal Story; SR Sculpted Heart].

It’s pretty ironic that Mo Yi wants to be perfect, but he realizes that the more perfect he is the more of a sense of distance there’ll be between him and his MC because of the subconscious pressure someone “perfect” brings LOL [SSR Border of Light and Darkness].

3) Stance on Growth

If you haven’t realized that one of Xu Mo’s greatest themes is the phrase “Take your time in growing”, then what have you been reading? Jkjk, but seriously this gets repeated in multiple places, although my brain always goes back to [Blossom Date] for this.

Even if he and his MC start off with fundamental differences (she believes all people have inherent worth and can’t be involuntarily sacrificed), he wants to personally watch the journey of her maturation. He also subtly guides and teaches her. Unfortunately, due to circumstances of the main story, he doesn’t get his wish and she grows up a lot out of his eyes, but their relationship still revolves around him wanting her to have as much time as possible to grow.

He’s, for a lack of better word, extremely gentle about this (setting aside as much of the Ares and story parts as we can, because LovePro’s story is tragedy on tragedy LOL). I think [Autumn Blaze Date] shows a good analogy for this, because he holds the bicycle steady for MC until she can get going on her own, and he also catches her the first time.

Meanwhile, Mo Yi... ha ha ha. I just came out of chapter 3 for his [Personal Story] and let’s just say his philosophy is tough love. It’s ironic because, in many of his other dates, he wrestles with an internal conflict to protect his MC but also to let her experience all sorts of things to both test and temper her.

This is going to touch on the previous topic about love for a moment, but a part of Mo Yi’s love at first sight experience is also “testing” the other person through all sorts of situations and, after seeing all their different sides, he can determine whether his love at first sight is one that’ll last for the rest of his life or if it’s just a fleeting moment of beauty and emotion.

He also extremely respects his MC’s sense of justice and pursuit of the truth in the world, no matter what she encounters, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this is what drew him to her in the first place. But MC’s occupation and beliefs will make her confront a lot of dark and dangerous things and so, whenever possible, Mo Yi lets her confront these in “controlled” situations to train her. If I had to make an analogy, IMO, he’d let his MC ride the bicycle and pick her up only after she falls, or when she’s like 0.1cm away from the ground LOL.

Mo Yi is (perhaps rightfully) called out on this by another character, who believes Mo Yi is too arrogant in believing everything is under his control and he can prevent MC from getting hurt whenever he lets her get into dangerous situations, and I’m interested to see if Mihoyo will let him experience failures with his philosophy so he can grow more, like the things Xu Mo went through re: his personal beliefs [Ch24].

Overall

I don’t know how well I explained myself, especially for people who don’t know anything about Mo Yi, and each section goes back and forth between the two characters LOL so here’s another section that attempts to describe their overall atmosphere.

If, like I said in my Headcanon Notes, Xu Mo makes me immediately think of all the words for soft, gentle, light, still, water, etc etc., then the words I constantly think about for Mo Yi is messily human. He’s like a bundle of contradictions, but coherent because it’s being intentionally done.

Mo Yi doesn’t discriminate against his patients, yet he can be elitist and looks down on others. He wants to let MC have dangerous experiences, but also wants to protect her. He wants to be perfect, but he also wants to reveal himself entirely to his MC because that’s real love.

In contrast, Xu Mo has a very clean and orderly personality LOL. You can draw clear cause and effect lines from his personality to his actions.

So, anyway, these are two interesting characters who start off with similar archetypes as scientific logical men of scholar/gentleman dispositions, but yet they’re also on opposite ends for a lot of things such as their approach to emotions and the world.

Oh wait, lastly, because I don’t have a good place to put this—but I think it’s funny—is that both characters are pretty possessive and greedy, but while Xu Mo does things in a sneaky, cunning and fox-like way Mo Yi gets ridiculously open about his jealousy and it’s hilariously cute but also almost childish? I often forget Mo Yi is older than Xu Mo by a year, because Xu Mo honestly feels a bit more mature than him LOL. If we count them actually aging by when their game came out though, then Mo Yi is 28 and Xu Mo is 29 now.

[galacticlamps]

im sorry im sorry im sorry i know it’s been well over a year but i accidentally thought about Short Trips: Deleted Scenes (again) and it’s killing me (again) so i think im just gonna go ahead and post all these stupid thoughts that have been plaguing me about it since i first heard it & maybe that’ll help clear up some space in my head for like, real life things.

Spoilers I guess? It’s like a year and a half old but also high key the most recent 2nd doctor content i believe we’ve gotten which is like, the only negative thing I can say about it

The TLDR version is this:

I literally cant believe how sweet it is? Painful, but sweet. Like. I don’t honestly know what’s more likely - did they set out to write Jamie a nice little straight love interest and just fail miserably at it by constantly likening her to the Doctor AND paralleling the Doctor’s perspective with her ex’s AND putting Jamie’s relationships with both of them in direct tension with each other while constantly letting his with the Doctor win out?

OR - did they do a very 1960s thing and say hey we’re gonna write what’s essentially a story about how much Jamie and the Doctor love each other and release it on Valentine’s Day thinly disguised as a one-off romance with a french lady?

Now, as a general rule, my attitude toward questions like that is usually “don’t know, don’t care, doesn’t matter” - and while I 100% stand by that, I also have to admit that this particular audio seems to pay enough attention to detail that I’d kind of think I was selling it short if I assumed too many of these things were just meaningless coincidences, you know?

Anyway, that’s the most coherent/overarching thought. And here’s a disorganized list of things I absolutely cannot get over about it (they don’t form any kind of argument, mind, they just all happen to live rent free in my head):

- Celine is first taken in by Jamie being an idiot (specifically him claiming not to speak French, in perfect French); likewise, her entrance in the scene where they actually kiss is marked with a little anecdote about her hat getting stuck on a doornail and her scolding it as she attempts to fix her un-tameable appearance, and the narration says Celine “would often clown for Jamie like this” - all of which, while undeniably adorable, don’t exactly strike me as entirely original traits to have been assigned to Jamie’s love-interest (but also Celine is so cool and her perspective on film/media/time is an excellent addition to the long list of dr who characters)

- When they’re in the present, describing Jamie’s relationship with Celine in 1908, they call him her “companion” and highlight his going nearly everywhere with her, which earns a laugh from the 4th doctor (and me as well, though probably for slightly different reasons - but like, is that really all it takes to have a fling with someone in 60′s era who? bc if so...)

- Celine’s ex-fiance is still in love with her and is jealously watching when she kisses Jamie ... and then the Doctor appears beside him, evidently doing the exact. same. thing. They have the following conversation:

“You know, it’s not prudent to spy on people. But then, people in pain can’t be expected to act prudently.”

“Pain, monsieur? You mistake me.”

“Ah, do I? Good, because I rather thought you’d lost something.”

“What would you know about loss monsieur?”

- I’m sorry doc but who do you think you are, saying stuff like that and smiling sadly at the floor to boot? I 100% had to pause it here the first time I listened, just to not throw my laptop across the room. 

- Then when I recovered continued, the Doctor closes the door so they can’t watch anymore and explains “Possessing things comes so terribly easily to some men that losing them can feel cruel, intolerably cruel. In my experience, only the very best of men cannot be tempted to answer that cruelty with more - I do sincerely hope that you are the best of men.” (guess who gets described as the best of men by the end of the audio?)

- Jamie and the Doctor apparently develop a habit of walking along the river in Paris in silence

- During one such walk, Jamie suggests Celine come with them since she already figured out about the Tardis - and when the Doctor’s worried by this, he says he only allowed Jamie & Celine to grow closer “because of Victoria.” Jamie takes offense at the ‘allowing it’ comment and also refuses to admit he knows what the Doctor means about Victoria, which leads the Doctor to say that he knows how fond Jamie was of her - he was too, of course, but with him, “it was different, wasn’t it?” Jamie only says maybe that’s true and maybe that’s not, but his voice catches until he changes the subject

- Jamie doesn’t see Celine for days both times that she’s recovering from the shock and depression of her work being destroyed. In contrast, when the Doctor’s not well, Jamie’s "afraid” and “guilty” and hardly seems to leave his side at all, if his being there “rushing to embrace him” the second he wakes up - after a period Jamie describes as “at least a week” - is anything to go by, anyway. so either bf writers need to learn how to write a committed straight relationship or admit that’s not what they ever intended in the first place

- Oh yeah, and the Doctor spends that week "asleep” in Jamie’s bedroom - no, there’s no explanation as to if that’s where he was when he first collapsed or if it’s where Jamie decided to take him bc why would they feel the need to explain him being there? why was it even relevant to tell us it was Jamie’s room in the first place?

- The Doctor somehow manages to control the Tardis enough to take Celine on one trip to an alien planet and then return to the correct time & place for her to use the footage she recorded there in her new film - and while the audio doesn’t do very much to explain how that was possible, it does treat this as A Pretty Big Deal, and immediately afterward the Doctor has to spend a week communing with his past self (and/or the Tardis?) debating how likely it is that the Time Lords could use this to trace him. When he decides it’s not worth the risk and they have to stop the film from ever being shown to the public, Jamie asks why he agreed to it in the first place, and all he can say is “Because, Jamie, you asked me to!” earning awkward stares from the crowd.

- Oh, but, lest we forget, that little outburst is also immediately followed by him putting his arm around Jamie’s shoulders, and, shockingly, apparently beginning to actually explain the truth about the danger from the Time Lords - until they’re interrupted, of course idk why exactly but the idea of a 60s dr wanting to come clean with a companion but not being allowed to bc the show demands the war games be something of a reveal hurts me in a very good way

- The mental image of “the Doctor and Jamie, resplendent in borrowed evening wear”

- The audio admitting that Jamie’s not very good at subterfuge, and the Doctor asking if he’s going to be alright with them having to steal the film back from Celine - and Jamie’s little “Aye, Doctor” as he feels a ‘glass arrow piercing his chest’ glad to see bf is reading all my letters about exactly how i feel any time something sad happens to james robert mccrimmon

- The Doctor’s anxious to get out of there for obvious reasons, but he hangs around bc Jamie wants to see Celine again - which doesn’t happen, because of her aforementioned shock & depression, but she does leave Jamie a note that ends “you and that Doctor of yours - look after him Jamie, he loves you dearly, as do I.” yeah, if you didn’t want people to draw a parallel there, you could’ve picked, like, any other wording in the world.

- In case you weren’t fully convinced I’ve been reading too much into this whole audio already, consider this: Celine dies in Long Island in 1968, three days before her birthday - 1968 is when this story would’ve taken place in the show’s history (between Fury & Wheel), and dying three days before/after a birthday in America seems a bit... well I had some deja vu from it, anyway

- Four of all people being the one to bring back the film - I know he does it bc Sarah Jane makes him, but personally, I often feel like despite the length of his run, 4 is the Doctor with which we might’ve gotten the fewest glimpses into his interiority, so the fact that it’s him and not one of the more overtly sentimental Doctors makes it feel like it carries even more weight somehow, to me anyway. I think I wrote a post saying roughly the same thing about 4 & Fate of Krelos/Return to Telos but maybe I only did that inside my own head lol. Still, I’m all for any opportunities for Jamie to be one of the few characters to draw some noticeable emotion out of Four, but in fairness I haven’t touched too much of his EU stuff to really be able to compare the frequency with which this happens with other past companions

- Is Four referring to Two or Jamie when he says he got the film from “an old family friend”? Two did the actual stealing, but he probably means Jamie’s involvement - either way, it’s an interesting way of describing old companions - or selves?

- When Jemima goes to call Jamie a thief, Four is “roused” to defend him: “he really was the very best of men” again, any time four freely shows he cares about someone, im over the moon about it

- Oh ha ha, there’s an audio called “Deleted Scenes” featuring the Doctor who’s most affected by junked episodes. And at the end of it, a character who’s spent her life researching and lecturing about a lost film gets to watch it be ‘rediscovered’ after it’s gone unseen for decades. I feel marginally less stupid for reading into the other details of a story like this when it ends up deciding to be to be clever & slightly meta like that

But yeah

all in all, it’s kind of amazing to me that this genuinely reads like they sat down and said okay boys it’s valentines day, let’s write an audio where jamie kisses a girl, since that hasn’t happened except as a plot device in one story in 1967 - but then when they got down to business they accidentally(?) wrote a story all about how important his bond with the Doctor is and how easily that can be compared to a legitimate love interest (even if the love interest in question is a one off character & the extent of the relationship appears to be like one kiss & then having Jamie spend most of his time around the Doctor instead)

I realize there’s something slightly illogical about writing the words “shipping aside” after a post like this but seriously - no matter how many categories you’re able to see two & jamie’s relationship fitting into, this is 40 minutes of big finish just hitting you over the head with how powerful/special/important that relationship is, and with them being two of my favorite characters, i really haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since

[upside-down-uni]

Hey! Idk if this is too much t9 ask, but could you rec me 2, 19, 20, 45, 55, 63, 69, 71, 72, 75, 86, 104, 111, 116, 131? sorry if it’s a lot but thanks in advance if u can rec me some! :)

Hi, you're in luck! I have an essay to procrastinate on and this ask is just the right thing to distract me! Here you go, I hope you'll find something that you like:

2. a book with a blue cover

Radio Silence by Alice Oseman. When i read it for the first time I was just on the brink of going to uni, still figuring out what I even wanted to study and this book just wrapped me in a warm blanket and said "it's going to be okay". I love the main characters Frances and Aled, their arcs and especially the really nice and quiet queer rep in this book.

19. a book that put you in a reading slump

The Knife Of Never Letting Go by Patrick Ness. When I start a book I generally have the feeling that I can't put it away until I have finished it. With The Knife Of Never Letting Go my problem was that I did want to read it but it didn't fit my mood, so I couldn't bring myself to read it but also beat myself up about not reading it until I put it back onto my shelf. So, I basically pushed myself into a reading slump over this book.

21. a book with a red cover

Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers. I enjoyed this book so much but probably not for the reasons most people would think I enjoyed it? The wlw romance was definitely nice and I really liked them being dramatic but also kind of mundane? What really got me though was the strong theme of found family of young adults and queer friendships, that really yanked the yearning hours wide fucking open for me. (I also liked that in the end the book wasn't as much about romance as it was about finding yourself after surrendering yourself to academia for ages and working through your issues.)

45. a book featuring the friends to lovers trope

The Priory Of The Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon. I adore this book. It's so long and there's so much incredible world building and history in it that it made reading an untter delight! Coming in it was a bit hard to acclimate to the slow paste but after a while I just settled in and enjoyed the ride. It's a breathtaking story in a breathtaking universe and afaik there's a second part coming!

55. a book with a satisfying ending

Yolk by Mary H. K. Choi. Yolk doesn't really have an ending in the sense of a "happily ever after" but I really loved where the author chose to leave the characters and how she did it. The book is quite different from what I usually read, tonewise, but especially that ending made me leave the book with a warm feeling. (also the cover is yellow and really really gorgeous)

63. a book that actually made you laugh out loud

I would've reccd Red White and Royal Blue but judging by your url you've read that already...sooooo, it's Snapdragon by Kat Leyh! Super cute graphic novel, with a weird and adorable storyline and such lovable characters!

69. your favorite mythological retelling

I haven't read a mythological retelling in ages, so basic Percy Jackson by Rick Riordan will have to do.

71. your favorite LGBTQ+ fiction

now that's just rude how am I supposed to choose?? I'll say it's Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire and Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir and Loveless by Alice Oseman. I feel very strongly and very distinctly about all of them, if you can get your hands on them my only comment is READ. (and maybe make sure you're okay with gothic sci-fi horror for Gideon The Ninth)

72. a book with a gorgeous cover

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth. It's her adult gothic horror debut after The Miseducation of Cameron Post and not only is the hardcover just stunning in black and red, it also got illustrations inside!! (And all teh women are queer and it's deliciously fucked up!)

75 a book featuring the I'm not like other girls trope

I think the closest I can come to that is The Lady's Guide To Piracy and Petticoats by Mackenzi Lee. The main character has to unlearn a bunch of stuff really fast if she wants to get along with the only other people that will help her. We have road trips in the 16th century, kidnapping and asshole husbands to be, piracy of course and friendship!

86. a book with an insane plot twist

Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand. Sawkill Girls was my first touch with horror and I have to say I have no idea whether there was heavy foreshadowing. I think I remember thinking that there was something else to come but when the shit hit the fan I just sat there with big questionmarks over my head because I had read the book in a frenzy in one evening and truly did NOT anticipate it. As someone who did not read horror or thriller before this I have to say I was already insanely confused and disgusted by a bunch of stuff that went down. But then...uh. the thing happened and I was just lost. (In a good way though.)

104. a fluffy sweet read

Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann. It's been a while ever since I read it but it's essentially a cute summer story about Alice who's a disaster bisexual when she sees people she finds cute. Which is a little inconvenient because the new guy at her job is really, really, really extremely cute and she ceases to function around him. There's best friend drama, eating pizza iirc and figuring shit out!

111. a book writing a book

I assume it's either "a book about writing a book" or I am literally supposed to rec a book that is writing a book...I'm going to rec a book that is about books! (because I can.) It's The Girl Who Reads on the Métro by Christine Féret-Fleury and it follows a young woman called Juliette wo gets sucked into an old bookseller's world of life saving, life changing books. A really quiet, really cute book.

116. a book with multiple povs

the Reckless books by Cornelia Funke! Simply divine stroytelling, a vibrant world and amazing characters! I have to say that I only know the German original so I don't know what the English translation might be like.

131. recommend any book you like

um. so knife gang members and people who follow my main, you'll once again be subjected to me being a mess because of lesbian necromancers in space! I've mentioned it before, it lives in my head rent free, it is the one, the only Gideon The Ninth by Tamsyn Muir! It's an insane sci-fi horror fantasy blend where Gideon has to play cavalier to Reverend Daughter Harrowhark I-love-being- an-absolute-pain-in-the-ass-to-Gideon Nonagesimus to help her become an uber-necromancer (like Harrow needs motivation to become even more of a nerd and shockingly good at necromancy) for the Necrolord Prime/Undying Emperor. There's BEAUTIFUL WRITING sprinkled with MEMES when you least expect it. There is incredible toxic codependency and repression. There's MURDER. There's fancy necromancy theorems and DUELS. There's enemies to begrudging allies to ??? Staple your socks to your feet or this book will blow them clean off!

[meat--grindr]

another trans man fixated on Martin here!! 💕

could i request some NSFW of an ftm S/O teasing Martin while hes on the phone trying to do another interview as The Count? not a lot of talking from the S/O while hes on the phone, mostly physical stuff & feeling him up thru his clothes. the rest is up to you >:)))

(def going to use as a drawing prompt im just so so embarrassed to request off anon 😔😔😔)

Alright, so, this prompt has been living in my head rent-free ever since I first read it and I am so freaking excited to finally get to it. I’m sorry it took so long. I will admit this was a bit of a challenge for me because I am notoriously bad at writing dialogue. But I feel like it was good practice. Sorry if it sounds a little stilted in spots, I’m still learning.

Please, please, please link me to that art if you ever get around to it! You knocked it out of the park with this prompt and I’d love to give the art some love if you’re comfortable with sharing!

The Count Didn’t Count on This – Martin Mathias (Trans-Masculine Reader) – NSFW.

·       It’s late, and for once, you’re exactly where you feel you should be at this late hour—not sprawled across a chair reading, or gazing out of the window, watching the cars pass and counting the neighbours’ lights as they flick on and off in lieu of stargazing. And for the first time in at least a week, you’re not trapped at your desk, frantically typing the final draft of a paper, hindered by the slow keys of a typewriter that does not care a whit about the deadline steadily hurtling toward you. No, thankfully, this night has brought with it far more comfortable circumstances—you find yourself in bed, tired bones sinking into the plush mattress, consciousness caught in the bleary space between sleep and not.

·       Even better, you aren’t alone.

·       Tonight, your bed is warmed by another body, long and thin, curled tightly against your own, as though it were some sort of crime to leave even an inch of space between you. A bony hip digs into your thigh and you’re sure the press of your head and shoulder against his chest must make breathing difficult for him. But he’s made no attempt to shrug you off or shift your weight to a more comfortable spot, so you likewise let it be. In all honesty, you’re simply too comfortable to bother and you feel it’s safe to assume the same is true for Martin too.

·       The slow, even beat of his heart pulses against your cheek, and his long fingers stroke absently over your bare shoulder. The rough texture of burgeoning callouses catches against your skin—the sensation, though not wholly unpleasant, makes you shudder. Sometimes, you forget Martin works with his hands. When you hold them, they seem so delicate—his long fingers better suited to playing the piano than tightening screws or hammering nails. But he’s good at repairs and more importantly, he seems to find enjoyment the work. It certainly keeps him busy enough on the few afternoons that Cuda isn’t running him ragged in the shop, much to your personal dismay. But his nights—the nights like this—belong to you and you alone.

·       Your eyelids flutter closed, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, maybe even longer, you feel like you can rest. Really rest. Dimly, you find yourself wondering if it had more to do with finished papers and diminished responsibilities, or the reintroduction of the physical intimacy you’ve been missing so dearly. Though you can’t say for certain, you have a sneaking suspicion it’s the latter.

·       The longer you know Martin, the more you’re convinced that there is a preternatural bubble of calm that hangs around him. You can feel it in the way even the grouchiest old women in the store seem to soften toward him—hiding small smiles behind their sleeves, sometimes even calling him ‘dear,’ or in the way Cuda’s volatile temper deflates when his cruel words slide off Martin’s back as though he’s heard it all before from people who frightened him far greater. You’ve seen it at work on the feral cats that roam the neighbourhood—while they hiss and swipe at the children who chase them through the dusty streets, they sit willingly at Martin’s feet, rubbing against his legs with a familiarity that borders on friendly. And it’s in the way he looks at you—looks into you with those dark eyes that seem far too old for that handsome, youthful face—intense and all-seeing, but never judgemental. He is a point of unflappable calm in a world which never seems to slow for even a second. That calm has settled into you now, seeping into your bones as you lay there, listening to his heart thumping in the darkness.

·       The low crackle of the radio hovers at the edge of your hearing, a burst of static cutting through the droning voices. You’d stopped listening properly ages ago—the third time the DJ had made an attempt to dismiss his latest caller. It was an old man who was seven shades of pissed about the ‘teen-age hooligans’ who were ‘tipping over his bins every night and eating his trash.’ Of course, everyone with half a brain, including the host himself, knows it’s an animal—probably a raccoon, or a family of raccoons, but this old geezer has somehow convinced himself it’s a gaggle of ‘Satan-worshipping teenagers who have been brainwashed by heavy metal music and Pepsi Cola.’

·       Okay. Sure.

·       It’s utterly ridiculous, and just the sort of thing you’ve come to expect from the people who live in Braddock. Or the ones who call in to a show like this anyhow.

·       In a way, you feel bad for the poor DJ. Sure, he welcomes strange callers of all kinds, from alien abductees and bigfoot hunters to bereaved parents who teenagers are ‘just growing up too fast,’ or ‘a little too interested in the works of William Shakespeare.’ He even encourages them at times, but you’ve got to draw the line somewhere, and in your mind, this, funny as it may be, is probably it. You’re sure whatever the station is paying the guy, it isn’t enough to suffer through being called a ‘brainless sack of human garbage’ by a crazy old man.

·       “And that’s about all the time we have,” Despite his cheery tone, the poor guy sounds exhausted. “Thank you for calling!”

·       Another burst of static drowns out the old man’s reply, but you’re sure that whatever he’d said, it was not ‘radio-friendly.’

·       “…our next caller. You are on the air, Sir!”

·       “Yeah, uh…hi, Barry.” The man sounds young—probably not much older than yourself—and very nervous. He must be a first-time caller. As he and the DJ share opening pleasantries—what’s your name, how old are you, where are you calling in from tonight, is that a cat I hear in the background? —your attention begins to drift again. You teeter for a moment on the edge of sleep, the clean scent of your linen sheets and Martin’s shampoo filling your nose.

·       “I was just wondering if you’ve heard from the Count again since last time?”

·       And just like that, you’re awake again, attention fully focused on your radio and the funny little show that whispers through it.

·       The caller is asking about Martin. A cold shiver rumbles through your body. People ask about Martin on the show all the time—of course, they don’t know that’s who they’re asking about, but you do. It’s so strange, to hear a stranger talk about someone you know so well—even worse when they speak about him like they know him too. Sometimes, they make you laugh with their outlandish theories, but sometimes they make you sick—sick with worry: when he’s threatened with violence or exposure, sick with fear: when they make guesses that hit a little too close to home, and sick with jealousy: when they claim to have had an ‘encounter’ with him, or worse, try to set one up on air.

·       You know about Martin, of course—that he is a vampire, or at least he thinks he’s a vampire. Whether or not you believe him is another question entirely. He certainly does not abide by the ‘vampire rules’ as you know them from stories and television—he doesn’t sleep in a coffin, filled with dirt from his homeland or otherwise, rather he sleeps in a bed (curled up beside you more often than not these days). He cuts a handsome figure in mirrors and the photographs that you have pinned up above your desk. He walks about in the sun most days without complaint despite his pale complexion, and though he may not be a sleek. Predatory creature that oozes confidence, grace, and sex appeal, he’s no slouch either—lithe and handsome in a boyish sort of way, all knees, elbows, and wide dark eyes.

·       In fact, the only requirement he seems to meet on the proverbial ‘vampire checklist’ is his fixation with blood—and the need to consume it. Maybe that means something, maybe it doesn’t. You’ve come to the conclusion that what you think really doesn’t matter in the end—your opinion isn’t going to sway him on the subject one way or another. This is a truth about himself he believes perhaps more deeply than anything else. Who were you to try and change that?

·       So, you do your best to take everything in stride, and when you can’t, you humour him. Still, every once in a while, something will trip you up—you still can’t quite decide if he’s joking about being over eighty years old or not. But you do your best. You had even let him feed on you once. Though only once. In the end, it was Martin who had decided the experience was not one he would like to repeat.

·       He had laid you out on your bed, “I don’t want you to get hurt if you faint.” Though you’d told him nearly a hundred times that you’d be just fine, that you’d had blood taken before at the hospital, he had insisted.

·       You had expected things to be different. For a start, you had expected him to climb into your lap, to press his lips against your neck, seeking your pulse the way it’s done in the movies. Instead, he’d taken out a little white kit from his bag. He had unzipped it and laid it out on the bed, revealing a little bottle of clear liquid, a row of sterile, hypodermic needles, and a pack of fresh razor blades.

·       His long fingers fell upon the needles, caressing them lovingly one by one. Much to your relief, he did not pick one up. As if he could sense your apprehension, he’d said, “Don’t worry, I won’t need these.” He’d glanced up at you, measuring your reaction, “I won’t need them because you’re not going to fight me. Are you?” It wasn’t really a question. You shook your head, and the corners of his lips quirked up into a smile, “Good. It’s so much easier when they don’t fight me.” Those words had made you shudder. He really had done this before, then. Part of you hadn’t believed him—he seemed so…harmless

·       He’d picked out a single blade from the package, meticulously removing the white paper wrapping, taking extra care not to tear it, or let the blade cut into it. When he was through, he folded the paper into a neat square and dropped it onto the comforter. He lay the blade flat on his palm for you to see. “I don’t have pointy teeth, you see.” He took your hand, opening his mouth and guiding your fingers along the edges of his flat, dull teeth. “They aren’t sharp, so they don’t cut deep enough. You understand?” You’d nodded and he had kissed your fingertips gently, one by one.

·       “I’ll be careful, I promise,” He’d said, “I’ll only take a little. Just enough to take the edge off.” Despite the hungry glint in his eyes, you’d known he was telling the truth. He didn’t need to reassure you of that. You trusted him. Besides, you had asked for this. At least, he’d stopped asking if he still had your permission every five minutes. Of course he did.

·       And yet. Your heartbeat had kicked up, jittering like a frightened bird when you’d seen the needles and the razor. It was as though actually seeing them had made the whole situation feel more real. There was no denying you were afraid, but you didn’t tell him to stop—you didn’t want to. You had made up your mind. You wanted this; wanted to help.

·       He’d held your hand in his own like it was a thing made of glass. His fingers gripped the razor with a practiced grace as he held it just above your palm. Watching him, you were struck for the second time by just how rehearsed this seemed. How many times had he done this, with or without permission?

·       “Take a deep breath for me, okay? There’s a good boy.” Did he talk to the others too? Even the ones who fought back? You could picture him, chattering softly against the skin of some poor soul, sprawled limp across the floor.

·       Limp or lifeless?

·       The thought unsettled you, but you did as you were told, filling your lungs nearly to capacity as the sharp edge of the blade bit into the meat of your palm just below your thumb. As promised, he had been quick, pressing only as hard as was necessary. Even so, the sting of it made your flinch, your hand jumping in his own. His fingers tensed around yours, the tightness of his grip reflected in the grimace that flashed across his face as he bent his head to seal his lips around the wound.

·       You had expected to feel him pulling the blood from you, but he simply let it flow into his mouth, the coppery taste heavy on his tongue. He exhaled through his nose, long and low—a pleased sound. Something about that set you more at ease. He hadn’t recoiled or wrinkled his nose at the taste of your blood. You hadn’t even realized you were worried about how you tasted until that moment.

·       You had started to feel dizzy beneath him—dizzy not from a loss of blood, but the wet heat of his mouth against your skin. Your heart had stuttered in your chest as his tongue probed gently around the edges of the wound, soothing your sparking nerves, even as the blood continued to drip down his throat.

·       When at last, he pulled away, his face was flushed, and his breath came hard; his chest heaving as though he’d just run a great distance. Immediately, his hand shot to his front pocket, fingers searching for the roll of gauze bandages he’s swiped from Cuda’s first-aid kit.

·       He’d wrapped the clean white fabric around your hand with such care it made your heart ache almost as much as the wound itself. When he was finished, he’d flipped your hand over and pressed a gentle kiss against your knuckles. Then, he spoke. His voice was small, barely more than a ragged whisper, “Thank you.”

·       “Was that…was it okay?” Your skin felt feverish, as though the heat of his mouth had seeped into your flesh and was burning you from the inside out. And the dizzy feeling had only grown worse, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut for a long moment.

·       Martin was still struggling to get his breathing under control, “Yes. I-It was good…better than good, actually. But…”

·       “But?” Had you done something wrong? Had you tasted bad after all? You cracked open one eye, then the other. The spinning had mostly subsided, but you still felt unsteady. “What can I do better next time?”

·       He’d gone stiff all over then, and his reply had come sudden and sharp, “No!” He cringed, the force behind his words clearly surprising himself as well. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, “No ‘next time.’ I…I can’t stand hurting you like that. I won’t do it again.”

·       You’d gazed up at him, blinking in confusion for a second. Then you realized what he’d meant—you had flinched when he’d cut you. Oh.

·       You reached up, cupping his cheek, “Oh, Martin. You didn’t hurt me. Not really.” It wasn’t strictly true—it had hurt a little, but you had been prepared for it to. You brushed a stray droplet of blood from the corner of his mouth with a careful swipe of your thumb.

·       “Yes, I did. I saw it.” You had tried to protest further, but he’d cut you off, much to your surprise. Martin almost never talked back like this, though perhaps you’d simply never given him a reason before. “I saw you flinch. I won’t put you through this again.”

·       And he hadn’t. Though you’d brought the idea up more than once, he had dismissed it each time with the same stubborn shake of his head. If Martin was anything, he was true to his word.

·       “…and it’s been such a long time since we heard from the guy.”

·       The DJ hums in agreement, “It has indeed, my friend. Maybe we’ll hear from him later tonight. If you’re out there listening, Count, don’t be a stranger! Give us a call,” He begins rattling off the stations toll-free number. “We’re all dying to hear from you again!”

·       You feel Martin stiffen up against you. You knew about the interviews he had done; you’d even heard one of them, back when Martin was little more to you than a silent, sullen face behind the counter at Cuda’s shop. And even when he’d started talking to you, he sounded different over the radio—his voice was deeper, and he sounded so confidant, so sure of himself when he talked about his ‘sickness.’ He almost never sounded like that in day-to-day life. You weren’t embarrassed to admit you found it attractive.

·       Martin on the other hand, was mortified to know you had heard him. He had known that people were listened to him, obviously, but they were supposed to be strangers. You actually knew him, and he’d talked about sex. Of course, reminding him you’d done a lot more in your time together than simply listen to him talk about sex did little to lessen his horror.

·       Of course, you also knew he’d been doing fewer and fewer interviews now that he had you to talk to and share his life with. But on occasion, when the pleading from the DJ gets too desperate, or he was simply that bored, Martin could be coaxed back onto the other end of the phoneline once again.

·       You glance up at him, but in the darkness, his expression is unreadable, eyes cast down toward the end of the bed, long lashes throwing feathered shadows across his pale cheeks. From the very beginning, he’s been hard to read. As you’ve come to know him better, you’ve needed to get comfortable with the idea of asking when you want to know something you could easily intuit if speaking to anyone else. He’s very good at hiding his thoughts and feelings behind a neutral expression and placid silence, but he would tell you almost anything if you asked him directly; so long as he had the words to explain it to you.

·       Do you want to make a call, Martin?”

·       For a long moment, he’s silent, turning the idea over in his mind a few times. You had never actually been with him when he’d done an interview in the past. He’d usually wait until you were three days deep in an assignment with no quick end in sight, or out of town with family. Maybe he would be too embarrassed to do it with you here or maybe he’s just not in the mood tonight. But, after a minute, he tilts his head down toward you and says, “Why not?”

·       The radio crackles out a jaunty tune—a commercial for some small business or another. “I’ll call in a few minutes. He doesn’t seem busy tonight.” Martin sits up, bracing his back against the headboard of your bed, and dislodging you from your perch. You grumble a little, irritated by the loss of your comfy spot, but you crawl into his lap anyway.

·       You press soft kisses into his skin, beginning at his hairline, and trailing down over his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his cheeks—the right then the left—the very tip of his nose, and finally his lips. He smiles against your mouth, leaning into the kiss with his whole body.

·       When you pull away only a moment later, you can practically hear the pouty turn of his mouth. He whines softly, but you pay him no mind, trailing kisses down his chin. “Are you nervous, Martin?” The question comes out muffled by the soft curve of his jaw.

·       “Not really, no…” He trails off, eyes cast to the ceiling, “I like the attention, I s’pose.”

·       You pull back to look at him, barely stifling a snort of amusement, “Don’t I give you enough?”

·       His eyes slide from the ceiling, falling upon you dark and wide. For a moment, you think he’s taken you seriously, but the pouty turn of his mouth breaks into a blinding grin, “You give me lots, sure, but I’m a creature of the night, remember? We always want more.”

·       The two of you sit there for a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes, the silence stretching on into the night. Then, you collapse into each other in a fit of giggles. Martin buries his head into the crook of your neck, shaking with quiet laughter. Sure, when he’d said wasn’t untrue, but when he put it like that, it was hard not to laugh.

·       “Welcome back, everybody. It’s almost the top of the hour at 01:57! I’m your host Barry…”

·       You hadn’t even heard the ads end! Martin scrambles for the chunky landline phone that rests on the beside table, nimble fingers punching in the numbers at speed. Though his calls had become less and less frequent, he evidently kept the number somewhere in his memory.

·       Martin’s voice is hushed as he speaks to whoever manned the phones down at the radio station, muttering something about ‘the Count.’ As he speaks, he winds the coiled phone cord around a delicate finger. It’s a simple, distracted habit of Martin’s but it makes your heart flutter whenever you catch him doing it.

·       You stretch your arm as far as you can, reaching for the radio, unwilling to give up your perch in Martin’s lap for even a second. Your fingertips brush the cool metal—once, twice—then you manage to curl your fingers around it. Pulling it into your lap you turn the volume down low so only you can hear it.

·       “I’m just getting word that we have a special guest on the line,” the DJ sounds positively elated, “Folks, it looks like the Count is back in town. Hello, Count! Where have ya’ been?”

·       Martin hesitates for a moment, his jaw working as he searches for the words, “Around.”

·       There is a definite lag between the words in his mouth, and those same words coming through the radio. The dissonance confounds your ears and makes your head ache in a dizzy sort of way, but you want to hear both halves of this conversation, not just Martin’s.

·       “So, what trouble have you been getting into since we last spoke, Count? Murdered any pretty ladies recently?”

·       There’s a smile in Martin’s voice, “Not ladies, no.”

·       “Oh really? Any men then?”

Martin glances down at you, though he makes a non-committal noise. The DJ takes a breath, as though he’s going to say something, but Martin cuts him off, “I wouldn’t call what I do murder, anyhow.”

·       “No? But you still need to drink blood, right?”

·       “Oh, yes.”

·       “How have you been getting your food, then? Don’t vampires uh…kill with every strike?”

·       Martin laughs, a soft, breathy sound that sends a shudder through you. “I’ve been managing.” His tone is damn near conversational. You gaze down at him, marvelling at how easy this seems to be for him. The Martin you’ve come to know and love rarely (if ever) speaks to strangers, and when he has no other choice, he’s never this talkative. It’s strange, but by no means an unwelcome change. You nuzzle against him, letting his voice thrum through your skull as it vibrates around in his chest.

·       “Enough talk of blood and guts, Count. What about your other problems, huh? Tell me, are the streets of Braddock safe at last from the real terror stalking them? Have you…” He pauses conspiratorially, “Found yourself a girl yet?”

·       Those words drive an icy spike of hurt deep into your guts. No, he had not found himself a girl. Martin must have felt your jaw clenching, as his free hand begins to card through your hair—soothing and soft.

·       “I’ve found…someone.” The implications of that word settles you almost as much as his touch. ‘Someone.’ Not a woman, but someone of significance, nonetheless. He bends down to press a quick kiss into the crown of your head. “Someone special.”

·       The DJ gasps, sounding scandalized. “Someone special! Well, I never. Good for you, Count.” You can’t say you’re a fan of the man’s tone—pleasant enough, but with a sharp edge that borders on condescending. But there’s little you can do but grit your teeth and bear it. “How long until you suck this one dry and move on?”

·       Wow. Fuck this guy. On some level, you’d known he was an asshole—sure you felt bad for him when people were rude, but he could dish it out just as well as he could take it. Every once in a while, he’d push a caller too hard or make a snide comment the conversation could have done without. You didn’t like hearing it when strangers were involved, and now that you were the subject of such a comment, you like it even less. He makes it sound like you’re some random conquest, or worse, little more than a meal to Martin. How wrong he was.

·       Suck this one dry and move on? Fat chance, Buddy. Though, his wording did give you an idea…maybe you could make this night just a little more interesting for the both of you.

You sit back, uncurling your legs and dropping your knees to either side of Martin’s hips, straddling his lap properly. Settling your weight back into his lap, you pull a face, pointing to the radio in your lap and mouthing, ‘What a jaggoff!’

·       Martin’s lips press into a thin line as he tries to stifle his laughter. He nods sympathetically but doesn’t say anything about it to the DJ. He’s slow to anger, preferring to divert the conversation rather than cause a scene. You can’t help but admire him for that. You lean forward, stamping a kiss against his collarbone.

·       “I…uh…try not to eat the things I love.”

·       “Ooooh, so it’s love, huh?”

·       You roll your eyes at the DJ, though you can’t deny hearing Martin say he loves you sends a little thrill through you—it was the same thrill you’d felt the first time he had said it to you, and the same thrill you hoped to feel for years to come. You trail little, open-mouthed kisses up the column of Martin’s throat, your mouth feverishly warm against his skin. A shudder jolts through him like an electric shock as your teeth scape across his Adam’s apple. You grin against his flesh, sliding up to nip along the underside of his jaw. There is a sensitive spot at the very corner that you love to exploit, and now seems like the perfect opportunity to do so.

·       Your teeth graze over the spot and his body jitters beneath you. His voice catches in his throat, though if the DJ notices, he doesn’t comment. You nip gently at the spot, reddening the pale skin as you worry it with your teeth. You long to suck a bruise there—the purple-blue hue would doubtless look stunning against the pallor of his skin, but you knew Cuda would have a conniption if he saw it, and you didn’t want to put Martin through that again. Not after last time. The pair of you had agreed that perhaps in future, it would be better if any hickeys you left remained under your clothes.

·       Pressing one final kiss against that spot, you pull back to look at him. You can tell he’s getting flustered—there’s a flush beginning to creep up his neck from beneath the collar of his t-shirt, deep pink and blotchy. You know, given time, it will reach his cheeks, the colour blooming high on his cheekbones. When you get him worked up enough, you could make Martin blush to the very tips of his ears. It was adorable.

·       Your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt as you drag your nails down his chest. His teeth catch his lower lip. You can almost hear the whine trapped behind those pearly teeth.

·       “Why don’t you tell us a little about this special someone, Count?”

·       Martin hesitates, “I don’t know about that.”

·       “Nonsense! You can tell your good ol’ pal Barry. Who am I gonna tell?”

·       Martin isn’t that stupid. He knows Barry doesn’t need to tell anyone anything—he’s live on air, he’d be telling them himself. His eyes flick down to yours, searching for something, be it permission or resistance. He pulls the phone away from his ear, resting it against his shoulder as he waits for you to make up your mind. You know he’d hang up in an instant if you asked him to—he’d likely do you one better and never call in again if the DJ was just going to ask questions about you all night long. But you trusted Martin not to give too much information away—he’d managed to stay hidden all this time, after all.

·       You nodded at him, smiling and thumbing gently over a nipple. Though your touch is light, and the sensation is dampened by the fabric of his shirt, Martin makes a sound as though he’s been punched in the stomach. He shifts beneath you, tucking the phone underneath his chin as he moves.

·       You grip the striped fabric of his shirt, working it in your hands. You lift it a little, fingers slipping just beneath it to splay against the flat plane of his stomach. His skin is warm and soft beneath your hands. You look down at him, arching a brow and asking for permission with only your eyes.

·       “Fine.” He says, and though the word is an answer for the DJ’s pleading, he’s talking to you, looking directly into your eyes—granting the permission you were so hoping for.

·       “Great! So, how long have you been together?”

·       You fall into him, hands pushing the soft cotton of his shirt up over his chest. Your lips are on his skin in a matter of seconds, trailing kisses across every inch of exposed skin—stomach, ribs, hips, and everything in between.

·       “It’s been ahh—” His words are cut short by a tight little moan as you bite down hard just below his left nipple. However, he manages a solid recovery as your tongue laves over the spot soothing the sting, playing the whole thing off as though he had needed time to stop and think about it, “—bout a year, maybe a little longer.”

·       Clever boy.

·       You drag your tongue a little higher, flicking over the sensitive skin of his nipple. He arches into your touch, hips canting up against yours, threatening to buck you from your perch. He tilts his head, trapping the phone between his cheek and his shoulder, reaching for you with both hands.

·       He takes your cheeks into his hands, pulling your head away from his chest. You grin up at him, taking in his expression—his pupils blown so wide with want they swallow all but the slimmest ring of brown iris, his lips parted and shining in the semi-darkness, flushed to the tips of his ears.

·       You surge up to kiss him, remembering only at the last moment, he needs to keep his mouth free to carry on the conversation. With a huff, you divert your course, and fix your lips back against the skin of Martin’s neck.

·       He swallows hard as you press your lips back against his pulse, pushing his hips back up into yours. You can’t keep the grin form your face as you feel him pressing up against you—the outline in his pants far more noticeable now.

·       His hands tremble slightly as they search for yours, dragging them down to the front of his jeans. You grin widens as you press down. Even through the thick denim, you can feel his cock throb under your palm. Someone’s excited.

·       You look down at him and he turns his head away, flushing a shade darker. He was so easy to wind up like this, it was almost unbelievable. A few kisses here, and gentle touch there, and he was a blushing, whining mess spread out on your sheets for you to enjoy however your pleased. You had chalked the over-sensitivity up to a lack of experience, and had expected it to fade after a few months, but it hadn’t. He was just that reactive, not that you were complaining.

·       With deft fingers, you pop the button of his jeans, quietly dragging the zipper down. He lifts his hips, wriggling helpfully as you drag his pants and underwear down over his thighs.

·       His cock bobs free, flushed and leaking already. You ghost the pads of your fingers over the soft skin of his shaft, and he shudders, his whole body tensing. His knuckles are white where he grips the phone, and his jaw is tight with the struggle of keeping quiet.

·       You wrap your hand around him, stroking gently from base to tip. His back arches off from the headboard, and he falls forward, burying his head in the crook of your neck. The phone receiver bumps against your collarbone, hard and hollow. The plastic is pleasantly cool against your feverish skin.

·       “Is it different being with a…uh…forgive the expression, normal person?”

·       “They’re a…” His laugh is breathy, almost a moan as he glances down at you, “a real handful.”

·       You barely stifle a laugh. You glare down at him in mock disapproval, and he sticks his tongue out at you. Cheeky little bastard. Though the colour still sits high on his cheeks, and his breathing comes through parted lips in short puffs, he seems to have adjusted well to your pace.

·       “Nothing you can’t handle though, I’m sure. Do they know about your…condition, shall we say?”

·       “They are aware, yes.”

·       The DJ laughs, “And how did that go? Can’t be an easy thing to hear—that your boyfriend might vamp out and eat you whole!”

·       Martin sighs, “I already told you, I don’t eat people…” His voice is much steadier now, even as your fingers brush along the sensitive spots on the underside of his cock. That means its time to switch things up. You can’t have him getting too comfortable. Where would the fun be in that? You tighten your grip—something that usually makes Martin thrash against the sheets and sob into your pillows—and begin to swipe your thumb gently over the tip of his cock with every upward stroke. He almost drops the phone as he yanks it away from his mouth. He covers the receiver with a shaking hand just in time, as a soft whine slips through his teeth, “Oh, fuck…”

·       You press a finger up against your lips, reminding him to be quiet. He presses up into your fist, his hips stuttering as your thumb traces a lazy circle around his head. His free hand flutters nervously about his mouth, as he tries desperately to keep quiet. His breath comes sharp and quick though his nose as he struggles to keep control. You shift your weight, pinning his hips back down with your thighs, and though he tries to buck back up against you, you hold him firmly in place. He whines high in his throat, shooting a pleading look up at you, but you just shake your head and point at the phone, ‘Keep going.’

·       Slowly, Martin brings the receiver back up to his ear. His tongue flickers out over his lips and he lets out a shaky breath, “S-Sorry, I didn’t catch that?”

·       “I said, ‘let’s circle back to what you said before,’ about not eating what you love. Why not? If you don’t need to kill to feed, why not feed on this special someone? Surely if they love you back, they’d be willing.”

·       You slow your hand, wanting to give Martin a fighting chance at answering. You were momentarily intrigued by the DJ’s line of questioning. You knew why Martin didn’t want to feed on you, but you were curious as to what sort of excuse he would give.

·       “W-Well…it’s come up mo-ore than once but…” Martin goes silent as you squeeze down on him, his posture going rigid, his head thrown back against the headboard.

·       The DJ lets the silence hang for a moment, but when Martin doesn’t finish his thought, he cuts in, “But…? You still there, Count?”

·       You let up, and Martin takes a big gulp of air, as though he had only just remembered he needed to breathe. “Y-Yeah, I’m here. It’s…it’s complicated.”

·       “Oh yeah? How?”

·       “Well, it’s not about whether they’ll let me or not…” He takes a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he steadies himself. When he speaks again, his voice is low, barely more than a whisper, “It’s that I want more.”

·       He tries in vain to buck up into your fist, his hips rolling in shallow, abortive little thrusts. His teeth are sunk into his lower lip, his eyes boring deep into your own.

·       ‘I want more.’ Those words were meant for you.

·       You blink down at him, momentarily dumb founded. Then a grin spreads across your face, sharp and hungry. If he wants more, you’ll give it to him—you’d give it to him until he was begging you to stop.

·       Sliding down his body, you know this is risky. Martin has never been good at keeping quiet, especially not when you’ve got your mouth on him. But the idea is simply too enticing to pass up on. When were you ever going to get the change to suck his cock live on air again? Besides, this might be good practice for him in the art of keeping his voice down—not that you didn’t love to hear him, it just might be nice to keep your…activities a secret from the whole neighbourhood for once.

·       You wriggle down onto your stomach, bringing your face level with Martin’s cock. Settling yourself into a comfortable position between his knees, you bend your head, pressing a gentle kiss against the tip of his cock.

·       He makes an involuntary choking sound in the back of his throat. You look up at him, resting your chin on the tops of his thighs. You want to give him the time he needs to make up his mind. If he tells you ‘no,’ or pushes you away, you’d gladly go back to stroking his cock and kissing his neck. You would get just as much pleasure from the shivers and whimpers you could wring out of him that way.

·       But he doesn’t tell you no, rather he pushes his hips up against you, pressing the tip hard against your lips. You flick your tongue out, ghosting for only a moment over his sensitive flesh, but it’s enough to make his eyes roll back, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks. You do it again, and his mouth falls open. Though no sound escapes the look on his face is just as glorious.

·       This is going to be fun.

·       You crane your neck, opening your mouth and gently taking the head inside.  Martin’s free hand shoots to his mouth, and he bites down hard on the meat of his palm to stop himself from sobbing out loud. You press your tongue flat against him, dragging it slowly against his hot flesh. He thrashes beneath you, jostling the phone against his cheek.

·       Carefully, you sink further down on him, taking him in inch by inch. He lets out a long sigh around a mouthful of palm.

·       “What was that, Count?”

·       “Oohh…nothing,” Martin grinds out, “Just…closing a window.”

·       The lie was flimsy, but the DJ, despite his skeptical tone, didn’t seem interested in pressed him on it further, “…Right…so how is your control around this person, huh? Do you ever get the urge to just go to town on them?”

·       Martin’s laugh comes out as a low purr, and he bucks into your mouth once, “Mmm, sometimes.” Ever so slowly, as you’ve sunk down onto his cock, he’s been curling in on himself. His head now rests atop your own, and you can feel the heat of his cheek radiating against your scalp. If that heat is anything to go by, he must be positively scarlet.

·       “And what does that entail for you exactly?”

·       With a little jolt, his cock brushes up against the back of your throat. You swallow down a little choking noise, breathing steadily through your nose in an attempt to calm your gag reflex.

·       The warmth of Martin’s cheeks is suddenly gone as he straightens up again. His head hits the headboard with a thump. “I-I just wanna…” He swallows thickly, his breath coming hard, “Push into…p-push my teeth into their throat and just,” He bucks up into your throat, either unable, or simply unwilling to stay still any longer, “just take what I want.”

·       “Their…blood?”

·       You swallow around Martin and his back arches so far he practically lifts off the bed “Yes! Yes, everything they have to give!”

·       “Right…for a moment there it sounded a bit more, uh, sexually motivated than that.”

·       Again, your throat contracts around him, and a hiss of air escapes through his teeth, “No difference really…”

·       The DJ is silent for a moment, “Now that’s an interesting tidbit about you, Count. I’m sure all the ladies out there would love to hear more about that.”

·       Marin fucks up into your throat again with a soft groan, “I’m…I’m sure they would but,” His breath is coming harder now, “unfortunately, I’m taken.”

·       The DJ laughs, “Hear that, Count? That’s the sound of hundreds of hearts all over Braddock breaking. Sorry, folks but it looks like you’re out of luck.”

·       Oh. He’s taken alright. You can just imagine the anguished looks on their faces when you learn he gets taken almost every other night by another man.

·       Though you’d love to keep him in this position, you’re struck by the sudden, possessive urge to have him on his back. You tap his thigh thrice in quick succession and Martin withdraws almost immediately. He’s always so respectful of your wishes, even if he whines a little when his cock slips from the wet heat of your mouth. The sudden chill of the air on his wet cock sends a shiver through him.

·       You scoot back, grabbing Martin by the calves, and pulling him down into a more horizontal position. He fumbles with the phone, as it slips from his grasp, landing on the bed near his shoulder.

·       “What’s going on, Count?”

·       “S-Sorry, I just…I just dropped the phone is all. I’m…I’m feeling awful shaky these days.”

·       “Oh, yeah? How long has it been?”

·       Martin’s tone is distracted, “Ages.” He is far more focused on you, his dark eyes trained on yours as you loom over him.

·       The DJ asks another question, but you’re not listening as you slip Martin’s slick cock into your mouth, wasting no time in taking him back into your throat where he belongs.

·       Though you can’t make out his words so well over the rushing in your ears, Martin’s voice sounds strained, slightly higher than usual. He’s fighting the pleasure hard.

·       His free hand fists itself in your hair, pushing you down tighter against his cock. You swallow hard, trying desperately not to gag as he rolls is hips into your mouth. He’s come such a long way since the first time you asked him to fuck your mouth. He’d been so nervous that you did most of the work, bobbing your head faster and faster until he’d spilled deep into your mouth. He had apologized for almost an hour after, thinking the rasp in your voice was all his fault. Now? He’s practically asphyxiating you, and you hadn’t needed to say a word.

·       Martin is shaking—his thighs tremble on either side of your head, and the phone in his hands nearly slips from his grasp again with the force of the tremors passing through him.

·       You hollow your cheeks and he’s forced to cover the receiver again as a series of whimpers tear free from his lips. You press your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, and he sobs, his hips canting up off the bed.

·       “I-I’m close,” His frantic whisper comes tight through his teeth, an edge bordering on panic creeping into his voice. You grip his thigh and redouble your efforts, gaining a high whine in return.

·       “Hey, Count? Count there’s a lot of interference on your end…I can’t really hear you. I think this is where this conversation has to end, but call back another night, huh?” Martin doesn’t even respond, he simply slams the receiver back into the cradle, ending the call.

·       Almost as soon as the call has disconnected, he’s a whimpering mess. “Oh, fuck! Your mouth…I-I can’t! Is it okay? Is it okay if I…?”

·       He can’t bring himself to say it, but you know what he means and hum a soft affirmation around his cock. He cries out as the sound vibrates around his over-sensitive flesh.

·       With a whimper, he fucks up into your mouth, once, twice, then he shudders, his whole body going rigid as he cums. His knees clamp around your ears, squeezing your head as he shakes with the pleasure. His fingers pull at your hair, any tighter and you’re sure he’ll pull some out. But you press on, hollowing your cheeks, letting him ride the high for as long as he can.

·       The sound he makes as you swallow around him is nothing short of wrecked. His fingers claw the sheets as though he’s trying to drag himself away from you, from your mouth, but his body remains locked in place beneath you.

·       His cock twitches against your tongue as you slowly pull back, the wet drag of your tongue digging raw little whimpers from his throat, and a shudder passed through him when you pull of and his cock is again exposed to the chilly air of the room. His hips press forward, seeking the tight heat of your throat again. It would seem almost desperate if the motion wasn’t so sluggish, almost sleepy.  

·       He reaches for you then in the dark. His hands, hot and sweaty from exertion and gripping both the phone and the sheets for so long, grasp either side of your face as he pulls you up for a kiss.

·       The salty taste of his cum still coats your tongue, but he doesn’t seem to care as he presses his lips against yours with a desperation you rarely see in him.

·       Pulling back, you whisper against his lips, “Was that enough attention?”

·       He smiles, “For me? Yes.” He presses another soft kiss against your lips. “But now it’s your turn.”

[shelby-love]

KELLY SEVERIDE

Poor Defense

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: none

Authors note: Happy ending obviously! xx

"Babe are you sure that you're alright?" You ask him for the fifth time. You're standing outside his car, watching him join you outside like a hwak.

Your boyfriend Kelly just doesn't seem to be okay. You watch him grab your duffle bag along with his. Usually that's not a problem for him but you see him strain his shoulder. His face says it all.

"No, I got it. You don't have to." You reach for your duffle bag.

"What do you mean? It's not a problem babe seriously. Let me." You sigh in defeat and grab his free hand. You part ways in the locker room and you join Shay in the ambo.

"Did you notice anything weird about Kelly?" You ask her. You're sitting at the floor of the ambulance and spying on him with the jump bag next to you. Making it easy for you to switch your eyes to it and act like you're not spying on him but rather doing your job.

He's at the squad table, bickering with Capp like nothing in the world is wrong or at least slightly twisted.

"What do you mean?" She tries to play it smooth. Of course she knows. The guilt has been eating her alive.

"Hm. That's weird." You suddenly say. The subject that is your boyfriend drops and you focus on the jump bag next to you.

"What's weird?"

"We're missing some painkillers. But I'm sure I ordered them." You sigh. Explaining that to main tower is going to be a pain in the ass. "Never mind. We'll figure it out."

"Okay I can't do it anymore." She sighs in defeat before throwing the last of the towels inside and sitting down next to you.

"Can't do what Shay?" You ask your partner. Shay is stressed and scared. But for what?

"He's not okay Y/N."

"Who's not okay?"

"Kelly!" She exclaims. "He went to check his injury and the doctor told him that they will need to operate and he won't be able to work for a year. Ever since then I've been helping him."

"You took the meds?!" You're shocked beyond words at this point. Not only was your boyfriend hiding a serious injury from you, he was also using his best friend and putting her in danger of losing her job. Hell even you were at risk now! "Les this can cost us our jobs!"

"I know! It's just... He's so stubborn and I was afraid that he was going to take the matter into his own hands."

Damn his stubbornness! "I will take his stubbornness and shove it so far up his-"

"Hey girlies." Brian Zvonecek interrupts you innocently. "Do you have any towels to spear?"

***

"When were you going to tell me?" You just barged into your boyfriend's private room and now you demand answers.

"Tell you what babe?"

"That your shoulder is getting worse and that you made Shay steal meds from the ambo just so you can work and risk your life." You tell him that in one single breath, with ears red as a tomato. You're angry and disappointed in him.

His face said it all. Busted.

"Look baby..." He stood up with caution. "This was just a one time thing. I'm fine now. I really am."

"No Kelly I don't think you are."

***

You have free time and you decide to use it to make up with Kelly. After what happened at the firehouse you didn't exactly find it in you to talk to him without bringing up the injury and starting a fight.

You wrecked your brain for possible explanations and after putting yourself in Kelly's shoes you decided to forgive him. He explained himself enough for you to build up the trust once more.

"Babe?" You walk around your shared apartment in hopes of finding him somewhere convenient enough to talk things out.

"In the shower!"

His reply is loud and clear. His off limits to talk now.

When you walk into the spacious bedroom it's almost like the air is completely different. Something seems off. You notice his jacket that lies on the bed, probably because he's headed somewhere.

While the shower runs in the background you take his jacket into his eyes and instinctively search through its pockets. You were never the type to rummage through his belongings but you felt like it needed to be done.

What you found shocked you. Pills.

Much stronger and illegal medication. 5 times the strength from the ones Shay took from the ambulance. You had one question in mind: Where did he get this?

Feeling your blood boil at the newfound sight you reach for his phone without a second thought. Someone must've gotten this for him and you were going to find out who.

Calls were a dead end and you quickly turned to look through his messages. The newest contact being someone named Anna.

It's obvious the moment you scroll through their conversation. A conversation way to long for your liking that started just a day after you confronted him about it.

You feel betrayed. He promised he would do the surgery.

You throw his phone back on his nightstand and fish through your pockets for your own. The moment you have it you swipe through your contacts and press call. "Yes?"

"Les who is Anna?" You ask her. The human encyclopedia for Kelly's past flings and girlfriends.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because..." You make sure to quickly hide in the kitchen so he doesn't hear you. "I just found out that he's still using pills. Illegal and stronger meds. And I know it's not you because you and I both don't have access to this kind of stuff."

"Uh..."

"I went through his phone and before you tell me how I shouldn't have done that... I had every right to protect him from risking his life because he's so freaking stubborn!" You huff into the phone. You clutch the meds in your hand until they're almost grinded into powder. "The name's Anna."

"Oh Jesus..." You hear her sigh. "An old flame and pharmaceutical rep. They never slept together but he did kiss her."

You start to see red. "I figured as much."

After taking a deep breath you bid Shay your goodbyes and start to pack your bags.

"Y/N-"

"Save it." You place the last of your shirts into the duffle bag. Ready to fly out of the apartment.

"Why?"

"Why?! Are you serious right now?" You ask him angrily. "You know what Kelly? I should've reported you for taking unprescribed medicine the moment I found out! No actually I should've reported you for making Shay steal them for you.

I can't believe I thought you were going to do the surgery. I stayed quiet knowing that your little stunt could cost me my job-"

"But you didn't do anything."

"Exactly! I didn't do anything to stop it. In the eyes of the whole CFD I am a careless paramedic in charge that doesn't take inventory seriously and instead allows firefighters to take whichever meds they prefer to themselves. Add my romantic relationship with the firefighter in question to the mix and my career is gone! Poof."

After a few deep breaths you zip your duffle bag. "I am not mad that you went to your ex fling for help. I am mad that you lied to me. You made me think everything was alright and when I found out you promised me that you would do the surgery. Not for me but for yourself and us. Yet again. You lied."

Knowing that staying in the same room with him for a second longer would make you stay, you decide to stalk out of the room and the whole apartment, leaving your own keys in the kitchen so you don't get tempted to come back.

***

"Shay let me in c'mon." Kelly banged on the door of Shay's apartment knowing that you were inside. "I need to talk to her."

The man you call the love of your life wasn't going to give up and both of you knew it. Frantically, with both hands in the air and if possible both legs too, Shay mouthed "What do I do?"

You nod towards the door, "Open the door."

She mouths back. "Are you sure?"

"Hey! Stop mouthing to each other and open the damn door!"

"Damn you Kelly!" Leslie shouts at him before opening the door and dissappearing into her room with a loud slam of the door.

It's been two weeks since you "moved out". You didn't give him the time of your day at work but the time you spent apart was eating you alive. Killing you actually.

His handsome self barges into the living room and spots you on the couch. Curled in a ball with tea in your hands and a blanket over you. The silent battle of eyes stops when he takes three long strides towards you and pulls you in for a kiss. A kiss that feels like homecoming.

You pull away flushed to the bone and encourage him to take a seat next to you. You place the blanket over his lap like you always do. Some things die hard.

"I'll do it."

"Do what?"

"The surgery Y/N. I'll do it."

Your mouth falls open in an 'O'. "So you're not here to ask me to move back in?Cause I'm still paying rent for that place."

He chuckles in a way that makes you weak in the knees. "You didn't let me get to that part."

"What made you get a change of heart?" You place your steaming hot tea on the glass coffee table and make yourself comfortable on the couch, your eyes never leaving his.

"You." He said simply. It made you blush against your will. "And the pain. It's horrible."

A bubble of laughter escapes your lips. "I love it when I make you laugh."

His statement caught you off guard making you blush even more. "I'm supposed to have a better defense."

"No you don't." With that he placed his index finger under your chin and lulled you into him. He spoke a soft apology in the kiss and you accepted it by kissing him back.

"Let's go home." Kelly whispered. Sorry shining in his eyes.

"Okay."

This time it was you leaned in for a kiss.

MASTERLIST

[cupstealer]

Re: your last ask.

I am also no longer into the fandom side of hockey anymore and hardly ever read fan fic anymore. (A senior thesis will do that to a person 😔) Buut I want you to know that I think about contact high on a regular basis. Once a week maybe type of regular, when I’m wishing I was reading something fun and not a science journal. Is that weird?! I mean I know that sounds a little crazy- but it might be the greatest fic I’ve ever read. While I was reading it I got the sense that it would be one of my favorites, but I had no idea how much it would still ruminate with me a year and a half later. I don’t think I can recall a single other rpf work like I can that one. You are such an amazing writer! And I hope you continue to write- whatever it may be that your writing about! 💕

(Sorry to keep putting these on y’all’s dash, but it’s the only way I can THANK these anons and they definitely need thanking.)

Your timing OP ;.; I really got this ask when I needed it most. 💕 Thank you thank you thank you! Sorry for the delayed response—it’s so hard to figure out how to thank somebody and explain how much words like this mean while not sounding like a flu patient or something.

To answer your question, it’s not weird! There are absolutely fics that live rent-free in my head to the degree that I’m basically sponsoring them on a permanent residency program [cut to footage of bring it if you really want it by staraflur]. And god, what an honor that Contact High is like that for you 🙏 Contact High is my favorite thing that I’ve written. A lot (pfff, all) of the content was so self-indulgent for me, just utter wish-fulfillment, which I usually try to dial back, but I wanted to see what might happen if I really leaned in instead. (The thing with toothpaste/walking in on someone actually happened to me when I was staying over at a friend’s house in high school... Sorry again to her brother, I promise I barely saw anything.) There isn’t a single element of that fic that I wasn’t excited about while I was writing it. And it’s that much more touching when the work that feels the most ‘me’ is someone’s favorite.

Anon, I hope you get some free time to read fun stuff soon! You deserve it. And good luck on your thesis! Defend that sumbitch like you’re Connor Murphy (no idea if it’s the kind of thesis you defend, but you get my meaning). Thank you again 💕

I am still writing, by the way! Just as slow as ever though, and for a very mixed bag of subjects! No hockey lately, though I have a few unpublished 1988 WIPs that I haven’t touched in a long stretch yet haven’t let go of either. Every fall, I pump myself up to roll up my sleeves and edit/finish this genre-confused frankenstein of a haunted house-type fic, and I haven’t given up hope yet! (Plus if I finish it, I can finally read jezziejay’s witch Jonny fic—which got posted while I was writing mine, and I made myself bookmark it for later so I wouldn’t be influenced or in my head about any overlap even though they’re almost certainly totally different in every way. I’m dying to read hers ;.;)

Hmm I hesitate to say this, but... If anyone is really interested regardless of fandom, there’s also an unorthodox fic I wrote as a Christmas present for my sister back in 2017 that she keeps telling me to post. (I know, and it gets weirder from there.) I think I want to but I’ve hesitated for several reasons. First: I need to re-do the ending now that I’m not scrambling to finish it on Christmas Eve. Second: It is a pairing that does not exist and kind of bananas. More info under the cut if you’re interested.

Basically, years ago, one of my sisters and I had a looong conversation about who was worthy of being shipped with Stacker Pentecost from Pacific Rim, and when none of the characters from the movie satisfied us, we reached out into the vast universe of basically anyone from any media to find him love, guess-and-check style. After literal hours, I brought up one of my favorite under-appreciated characters, Linus Caldwell from Ocean’s Eleven (Matt Damon). Which makes no sense, but doesn’t it a little? It became a running joke, and then a running a joke that I was gonna write it, and then not a joke. Ain’t that the way?

So yeah—Third: I’m hesitant to get somebody excited about a new hockey fic only to open the email and see it’s a batshit crossover that literally no one (except my sisters) is asking for. That being said, I started it as a joke/challenge, but ended up making something that I find quite a fun little ride because I was so loose with it (because, like, who’s ever gonna see this, right? Some real dance like nobody’s watching shit). I’ve written a bunch of stuff never meant to see daylight, but this fic in particular feels complete. It just has a lot going on (Hidden identities! Never Been Kissed-style fake student/professor tension! Chase scenes! Cameos! Close-up magic! Heist crew banter! Idris Elba’s North London accent! My total lack of military knowledge!). Also it’s over 30k words. (Yeah.)

Is there any interest in me posting this?? To be clear, I’m definitely not expecting it to be popular or anything, but taking the time to fix it up only makes sense if I know at least two people will lay eyes one it, lol. You don’t have to know both films really well for it to make sense, but familiarity with the Ocean’s trilogy and characters probably helps a lot for context since it takes place in between those movies. Goes without saying that no offense will be taken if there isn’t clamoring demand amongst hockey rpfers for 30k of Pacific Rim crossed over with a George Clooney movie franchise in a fic that has neither giant robots nor giant monsters (nor George Clooney, in any appreciable quantity)... Think I’m capable of taking that sentiment on the chin. 🤙